Pregnancy should require a passport...

because it's all so foreign. I don't even recognize myself. I thought I'd be so excited to see my body change when I got pregnant, but really, it's just weird. Don't get me wrong, it's amazing, but it's also really, really weird. People didn't tell me most of this stuff ahead of time. I think I may know why...a lot of it is a little gross. I'll try to leave out the grossest stuff as a courtesy to those of you who know me in real life. I don't want to supply you with visuals next time you see me.

Here are my observations (not complaints, just interesting observations that warrant recognition):

~I'll start with my breasts. They're not mine. They're someone else's that happen to currently be attached to my body. Here's the thing: they're the wrong size now. I've had the same breasts for many years and these aren't it. They're weird and large and well, foreign. And as time has marched on, they've gotten even stranger. My breasts look just like the inside of my wrists. I can see the blue of my veins on them. Not hot.

~My belly amazes me, intrigues me and baffles me. I look forward to seeing it each time I pass by a mirror and yet it still surprises me every time. That strange bump is mine. It's the darnedest thing.

~One more thing about my belly. It now has a fine layer of hair over it (normal, thank goodness). I'm a really fair skinned girl with really dark hair. I'm sure others wouldn't even notice it, but I'm really self-conscious about body hair. It makes me feel a little wookie-ish.

~There are a lot of strange things happening down there. Just a lot more...activity. Spotting and other stuff. And I'll leave it at that.

~I'm out of breath a lot. Yet I'm only 16 weeks. I read up on this and it's because the increased hormone levels relax my systems, including my respiratory system. It's amazing to me how every little thing is connected to the pregnancy. I still can't fully wrap my head around that. I didn't think I'd be out of breath until I'm much closer to the end when the baby would be squishing the rest of me.

~This week, the baby is developing pads on his or her fingertips! Holy cow! That amazes me. The baby is still so small but is developing fingerprints.

~I pee.all.the.time. It's a phenomena. Some nights, I wake up three times to pee (those are not my best nights). So much pee.

~Out of nowhere, I will become completely famished. Like violently hungry. My pregnancy hormones have not been too bad (I think Joe would agree), but when I get overly hungry, look out. I'm an instant lunatic.

~Happy things make me cry very easily. "Do you hear what I hear?" is my most favorite Christmas carol and now I cry when it comes on the radio. Why? Because I love Christmas and I love this song. It's ridiculous. I find myself laughing aloud through my tears because I realize how silly it is that I'm crying yet again from the same song. I am yet to hear the song about the Christmas shoes (do you know which one I mean?). I'm sure I'll be a sobbing wreck for that.

~I recently learned about the mucous plug. Enough said.

There are more pregnancy oddities I could speak about, but I'll leave it at that for now. I've got 24 more weeks of strange things happening....I'll keep you posted.

::whispering because I don't want it to hear me::

but I think it's safe to say (knock wood) that my morning sickness is over. Please let me be right. It really has been a while since I've felt nauseous for no reason (besides pregnancy). Don't get me wrong, I still feel awful if I go more than three hours between snacks, but I think (and hope and pray) that the official morning sickness is done. I am now hungrier than ever. I go from a normal, pleasant human to a raving, cranky lunatic within 5 minutes if I don't eat at a reasonable time and reasonable is sometimes completely arbitrary. In my crankiness, I have no time to wait for food to be prepared (NO TIME!..THERE'S NEVER ANY TIME!!), I just want food to magically appear on its own.

P.S. If you picked up on the no time reference, you're my favorite.

WARNING: Pregnancy can impair judgement

I stole from the dollar store. It's true, I did it. And now, a week or so later, I'm still not even sorry. Oddly, I feel justified...even though I know I owe the Dollar Tree $1.07.

Preface: I'm your typical upstanding citizen. I'm friendly to customer service people, I blatantly pick up litter in front of the people who intentionally dropped it while giving them the I-hate-you face, I return items to the proper shelf when I find them on a store's floor. All around, I'm a decent person.

So, on the day before Halloween, I threw my upstanding citizenship out the Dollar Tree door and into the cool, autumn air when I stole a roll of masking tape. Here's how it all began....

I've been struggling with insomnia as a lovely side effect of my pregnancy for the past 13 weeks. It's not fun at all. I've been unable to nap during the week and randomly wake up at night for hours at a time. There's generally no real catching up on the sleep that I miss out on. On that particular Thursday morning, I woke up at 3:30 a.m. and was up for the rest of the day. By 9:00 a.m., while sitting at my desk waiting for my students to arrive to start the day, I burst into tears of exhaustion while my co-teacher looked on baffled. I just couldn't even process the idea of twenty seven students that day, let alone the next day, the beloved yet dreaded by school teachers everywhere, Halloween.

My day carried on with me mostly in an exhausted stupor. The kids eventually went home, I left as well and headed to the glass store to get new panes for two of the windows in my house. I stumbled through that process and got back in the car to go buy stickers for my Halloween costume for the next day's parade at which point a slew of obscenities flew out of my mouth. I had forgotten the masking tape and mailing labels at work that I needed for my costume. Now, I would not only have to buy stickers, but the masking tape and labels as well. Damnit.

I went to Staples first. Masking tape was only available in a 4-pack for $8!!? No. I'm not paying that much for something sitting in my desk drawer at work. While in Staples, I called Joe who quickly found mailing labels to bring home from his office. Unfortunately, his office does not use masking tape. Odd, no? Staples also did not have the stickers I needed but I wasn't really expecting them to. Right around this point is when I start realizing that I have to eat. I'm starting to feel a bit nauseous. Damn having to eat every three hours.

Next stop, Dollar Tree. As I walk in, I'm stunned by the week-before-Christmas-length line. And the Christmas items on display and the many people who are actually purchasing them. What the hell? I've fast forwarded to December 20th. Maybe the line will be down by the time I have to pay. I find my roll of masking tape but no stickers, which means I still have to drive to the craft store two towns over. Damnit.

Done shopping, I head up to the front of the store only to find that the line is still just as long as when I arrived. I cannot bear the idea of standing in that line. It is so long, I am so tired and I feel like crap. I stall, thinking that if I wander the store for a couple minutes the line will go down. Doesn't work.

And then it hits me.

I have to steal the tape.

I have no other even slightly reasonable options. I need the tape for my costume. I would like to throw up. My eyes are half closed. The line is not even a choice to me right then. I am going to steal the tape.

Right at this moment, my phone rings. I pick up and it's one of my good friends.

"Hey, Jacki! What are you doing?"

I throw the tape in my bag and head out the door.

"Stealing a roll of tape from the dollar store," I whisper into the phone. The sound of her dying laughing on the other end of the line makes me erupt into giggles. And I begin telling her the story of why, even though I have money sitting in my purse, it was completely and totally reasonable that I took the tape.

Easy Silence

I've entered into this odd, almost Zen-like stage of queasy, sleepy quietness. Simply put, I don't have much to say. I've witnessed this with many other infertiles' blogs. In the depths of my own infertility, I couldn't imagine having nothing to say. I was astounded that these women could lapse into silence. How am I no longer privy to their innermost thoughts, especially at a time when I want to share in their joy? Embrace their celebrations?

And yet, here I am...or not, essentially. It seems I've got nothing but crickets in my blog lately.

I've spend a lot of time analyzing this. Why so quiet, Jacki Jaguar? I haven't really pinpointed any solid answer yet, but I have a few ideas bouncing around.

1) I'm pretty damn tired. Once I'm done work, I'm generally useless for the rest of the day.

2) My thoughts are so disjointed lately. In my infertility, I recognized so many poignant moments, snapshots that captured my thoughts and feelings perfectly. Something would happen and right in the thick of the moment, my main thought would be: I have to write about this. But now, now things are different. I'm still working on wrapping my head around this pregnancy, still processing that I've crossed this enormous hurdle in my life. It's like I can't get my own thoughts together even in my head, let along type out anything remotely cohesive.

And so, I guess I'm asking you to bear with me. I'll be back with something funny or heartwarming or just plain sad at some point, but that point just isn't right now.

Here's some other quick follow up stuff:

~ I didn't keep the dog who went to crappy counselor therapy with me. I found Brownie's owners and he was happily reunited with them later that same day.

~ I did not go back to crappy Beverly for more crappy counseling and I did speak with the intake counselor about the fact that Beverly is not your go-to girl for all things infertile, or anything infertile for that matter. Beverly will however always have a small but special place in my heart as a fellow dog lover.

~ Sadly, my co-teacher's IVF was not successful. And so now, we're gradually making our way through dealing with my pregnancy, in some ways together and in some ways on our own.

Last but not least, this week is INFERTILITY AWARENESS WEEK (October 19-25). Spread the word, you just may change someone's world for the better.

Late but still sobbing

I heard this song on the radio a few weeks ago and I feel like it's speaking directly to me about my infertility. Every time I hear it, it brings me right back to where I was ten weeks ago, not yet pregnant and feeling so lost. I can't listen to this song without tears.

Broken by Lifehouse
The Broken clock is a comfort
It helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow
From stealing all my time

And I am here still waiting
Though I still have my doubts
I am damaged at best
Like you've already figured out

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart
That's still beating
In the pain, there is healing
In your name, I find meaning
So I'm holding on, I'm barely holding on to you

The broken locks were a warning
You got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded
I'm an open book instead

And I still see your reflection
Inside of my eyes
That are looking for purpose
They're still looking for life

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart
That's still beating
In the pain, is there healing
In your name, I find meaning
So I'm holding on, I'm barely holding on to you

I'm hanging on another day
Just to see what, you will throw my way
And I'm hanging on, to the words you say
You said that I will, will be okay

The broken light on the freeway
Left me here alone
I may have lost my way now
But I haven't forgotten my way home

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart
That's still beating
In the pain , there is healing
In your name, I find meaning
So I'm holding on, barely holding on to you


I think of a million different things when I hear it. The barely holding on to your day to day life, like how some days you're just going through the motions. And the idea that you feel like this huge part of you has died but you're still here, walking and talking like everything is fine. But also about how we hurt and heal and hurt again. We do gain things along our journey; strength, endurance, empathy. We change, hopefully for the better in the end.

And we wonder, where's God in this whole thing? Is He around and what's He doing? Is this part of His plan or is just He riding this out with us, His arm around our shoulders? And in our darkest moments, many of us wonder where He is at all.

I know this song is talking about holding on to our faith, but I also think of us holding on to our spouses. Our marriages face such huge challenges through infertility. We jump hurdles over and over, only to face more. And sometimes, we're barely holding on to each other because we're so consumed in our own grief.

And so, I guess this post is for my infertile sisters, especially my 6+ nesties. I love you, guys and you're never far from my thoughts.

The leaf turns

and I finally begin to truly let her in. The spotting has stopped. My fear piece of pregnancy seems to have settled down. I still have a wave of 'what if' panic on the way to an ultrasound but I'm pretty sure that's normal. I'm starting to look forward.

I'm in the eighth week of my pregnancy and the super news is that I'm back to work! I went back on Monday on limited activity...sitting as much as possible, no lifting or twisting. This coming week, I won't officially be on limited activity but still have to try to take it easy for one more week. My right ovary at last check was still ten centimeters but the RE seems to feel I've turned the corner. He kicked me out! I'm officially an obstetrician only girl.

Work this week was...a whole new definition of exhausting. A friend was asking me what it's like and I responded that it feels like I'm coming down with something all the time. Like you will probably have to call out of work the next day, but you won't because you're pregnant, not sick. From the moment the alarm goes off, I'm beat. When my mom and I were discussing this, she reassured me that it will only be like this for another month or so. That concept is too overwhelming. At this point I try not to look past tomorrow when I think about work. Still, it's so great to not be stuck on my recliner anymore. It was a crazy, hectic, busy week, but I'm so grateful to be back at work.

My morning sickness seems a bit better now that I'm back on my feet. I definitely have to eat every couple hours and it's worse at night, but smells are no longer bothering me all day long and I'm not having as many food aversions. I think being busy helps because I'm not just laying here thinking about how I feel nauseaus. Currently, my body is not so impressed with the idea of sleeping though it craves it more than anything. You know when you're tired but not sleepy? That's me. I try to nap after work and stare at the ceiling. I go to bed early but remain awake. I randomly wake up in the middle of the night for an hour or two at a time. Good times.

You know what is funny about pregnancy? Everything makes me cry. Things that fertile women do without a second thought leaves me sobbing. At my first OB appointment, the nurse brought me this big baby-decorated bag filled with samples and pamphlets. My response? Crying. Why? Because I get a bag. Not every other women in the office while I leave with some sh!t pamphlet on PCOS or alcohol swabs for my injections. I get the bag. These moments are milestones for me where other women don't even recognize the significance. And you know what? Those moments make me appreciate where I've come from. The long journey makes you so grateful for where you are.

Remember to breathe

I will be seven weeks pregnant tomorrow. I've seen the heartbeat, heard the heartbeat and had my first OB appointment. So when will I let myself begin to feel, celebrate and embrace this pregnancy?

The truth is, I've been terrified to acknowledge this baby. Even typing "this baby" feels uncomfortable to me. Because I'm...scared. Of getting to know and love this baby and then lose her. Yeah, I've been calling it her the last few days.

Last week, my husband was leaning over me as I lay in the recliner (like always). He kissed me and then lifted my shirt a bit, kissed my belly and said hello to the baby. And you know what my first reaction was? To tense up. How f*cked up is that? Because I'm so scared of losing her that I don't want to get too comfortable with her. I don't want to let her in and then have her be gone one day. My beautiful child, my dream, slipping right through my fingers.

People have been asking me all the time, "Are you so excited?" And I say yes, but in my head my response is no. Not yet. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like this pregnancy is too good to be true. Like I've spent so much time and energy in my infertile shoes that I'm scared that they truly are the pair I'm meant to walk through life in.

I've spotted five times in the last couple weeks. Two more if you include the fact that my cervix is bleeding from my OB appointment. The doctor tells me everything looks fine but the bleeding certainly doesn't help me embrace hope or excitement.

But...

I'm beginning to let her in, a bit, here and there. Sometimes, I immediately kick her right back out, but at least I'm peeking out the door through the crack rather than barricading myself behind it.