Five Things

1.


One of my coworkers gave me some things to compare my next bout of laser eye treatment to.

Because the light flashes are going right into the depth of the eye, prison torture was my first thought, but here are some alternatives to such negative-thought:

I’m a celebrity in the middle of being photographed by the paparazzi. The flashbulbs are blinding.

I’m center stage in the middle of a huge production, starring me, and the spotlight is shining directly on me.

I’m playing hide and go seek at night with flashlights. (I personally have never done this, but it’s sort of comforting.) Then again, I’m full-of-myself enough to enjoy the thought of the first two scenarios. The right eye’s skedded for late next week, so I’ll keep my celebrity thoughts at the forefront of my mind.

2.

Just got back my latest blood work from my endo: A1c was 5.6, but my TSH, the numbers that regulate my thyroid, were a tad high at 3.2. The IVF clinic had wanted them under 3, so now I’ve emailed my endo to ask if I should worry. I was 1.7 a few months ago, and am not sure why the numbers might be increasing, or even what that means. But I’ll up my dose one day a week and keep an eye on things.

3.

I’m running out of regular clothes to wear. Seriously. I’m 12 weeks this week and a lot of my clothes that fit OK or were perhaps a tad snug from gaining ten pounds in a year of TTC are now just not happening.

I wore a pair of maternity jeans yesterday for the first time, and they were comfy. Today I just have large pants on (to accommodate said weight gain before the pregnancy,) and they fit fine, but the sweater set I’ve been wearing for years today feels… a bit short. Like I have to keep pulling it down to cover my belly.

And while I’ve read on other blogs that people feel their tummies are tight and hard, mine, already covered with a pillow, still feels pillow-like. I do suspect that maybe something hard is pushing the pillow out a bit, but I still think I just pass for fat and soft.

4.

Yesterday I was craving a trip to Manhattan, land that I love. Mr. Lyrehca was like, “pick a weekend and go. I don’t mind!” and I was making lists of people I’d like to see (Violet, you were on there) and how I could tell friends I was with child. And then there was the crazy news of the plane crashing into a building and the death of the Yankee pitcher. I was glued to my monitor at work. My former eye doc’s office was four blocks from where the plane hit. Thankfully, the people I know/knew in the neighborhood are either just fine or have long since moved out of town.

5.

I’ve actually chilled out a bit about being pregnant. I don’t think every moment that something bad could happen (though it still could!), nor do I wonder why I don’t feel all that different (though I still don’t.) I’ve also been checking my blood sugars regularly (clocking about 15 times a day, which isn’t unusual for me) and looking forward to next week’s High Risk Ob appointment, where we’ll have some tests to find out how this fetus looks chromosomally. Perhaps I’m not thinking too closely about it and how it may have devastating news, but I’m eager to hear exactly what the results say. Mr. L. and I haven’t talked about whether we’ll tell people if the news is bad, but have focused more on how to tell people we know should the news be all positive. I hope I don’t end up looking back on these words with horror or regret, but instead with happiness and pleasure.