Just Plodding Along

This past week has been a conglomeration of unusual events. I'm working from home today, a rarity. I went to a mandated company outing yesterday which was OK, but being the sober person among many drunk people is never my idea of fun. Mr. L. is incapacitated. And I had another unbelievably normal doctor's appointment last Thursday.

I'm at home because of the incapacitated Mr. Lyrehca. While this is my blog, not his, suffice it to say that my boy has had excruciating sciatica pain (running from ass to ankle) for the past few days. He was in a few car accidents SIX years ago, which caused back and leg nerve problems, but this latest crisis developed over the weekend appropos of nothing.

We went to the local ER on Saturday night because he was in agony, and I couldn't find much online to give him help. The ER gave him Percoset, he had an MRI the next day, and he was pretty much sent on his way. Yesterday, I came home from the company outing to find him in agony, commanded him to take more Percoset, and left a cranky message with a doc's office telling them he needed an appointment ASAP.

Which brings me again to why I am home today: the appointment's in the midafternoon, and since he's been dutifully taking the drugs every four hours so they don't wear off and cause him to utter disturbing things, he's too doped up to drive.

I must say it's a pleasure working from home. My boss (another person on the company outing who resents the implication of enforced fun and doesn't drink like she's still in college) sent me work to do, and I've been getting it done in the quiet privacy of my own home. No overbearing coworkers discussing their hangovers the next cube over. No intrusions. It's glorious.

Now if I could only figure out how to do it full time.

I went for another fertility clinic checkup last week, at the eight-week mark. Once again, we met with SuperAwesome Nurse, who again told me I was progressing along beautifully and that I had an A-plus ranking from her. The heartbeat measured at 160 beats (although I honestly couldn't see it on the screen the way I did at six weeks), and the growth was supposedly right on schedule "even perhaps a bit bigger than eight weeks, one day," SAN said.

"Is that bad? I'm a type 1 diabetic and I'm trying to eat well."

"Oh, don't worry," she said. "At this stage, you're doing just fine. You have enough to worry about with your own diabetes care and what you're eating is not affecting the baby in that way at this time."

I asked about the handful of M&Ms I'd been eating at work everyday, the ones I bolus for and don't seem to have high blood sugars from. The ones I crave because I've given up eating or drinking diet Coke/cold deli meat/delicious soft runny moldy cheeses/pepperoni/bacon/sausage/hot dogs/tuna fish (which I never particularly craved before and now I'd like to get a sandwich now and again/salty lox atop a fat sesame bagel. How I've never smoked/drank coffee/drank any kind of alcohol/used any recreational drugs. How food is really the vice of choice, and I eat oatmeal every morning and organic veggie sandwiches nearly every day when I'm working.

"It sounds like you're doing really well, and if you're only eating a handful of M&Ms and not a full bag, and you're keeping your sugars under control, I think the M&Ms are fine," said Blessed SuperAwesome Nurse.

And with that we were released from the fertility clinic to meet with a high-risk ob/gyn in two weeks for the next round of ultrasounds. You know, among the rest of the pregnant folk who likely didn't use shots and drugs to get that way.

The appointment's just more than a week away.

But I must admit I don't feel anything. Still no nausea, no sickness. I still get up to pee at night (with blood sugars well under 100. In fact, I've had reactions in the 40s and 50s and well-look-at-that, no real symptoms. The constipation (hey, what's TMI if you've read down this far already?) sort of waxes and wanes. Yep, the pants still need artful layering to hide the fat, and yeah, the boobs are bigger, I suppose.

But what if something's gone wrong?

Sadly, I read a lot of bad news on the infertility and trying to conceive blogs I read, and I just read about another blogger who was doing infertility treatments around the same I was and was a week ahead of me with her pregnancy. Amy just found out that there was no heartbeat at her latest ultrasound and has a d&c scheduled later this week. Unfortunately, her post hit close. Please send her your sympathies.