Misery

A few nights ago I was contemplating the idea of misery.  I thought about the scene in Stephen King's book/movie where Kathy Bates slams the guy's ankles with a sledgehammer.  I thought about the song "Misery" in "Into the Woods" (the musical) where the princes try to one-up each other with tales of woe -- like Rapunzel's prince laments that her tower has no doors to get to her the normal way. My own misery, the other night, was fleeting, and was somewhere between the horror of Stephen King and the hystrionics of Steven Sondheim.  I had a terrible sore throat, the kind that makes you not want to ever swallow again.  The next day when I went to the doctor, I found that I had a half a degree of fever, which radiated in heat and pain from my ears.  My head ached and mucus was building up in my sinuses, but I was determined not to involve my throat at all in getting rid of it.  Pregnancy or not, I'm never more miserable than when I have a sore throat. So you know what the doctor said, then?  Vomiting.  Of course.  Why didn't I already know it?  The vomiting was eating away the skin on the roof of my mouth and throat.  My babies were eating me alive! I don't really mind.  Within a couple days the red spot on my soft palate turned white and the pain has let up a little.  The rest of the head cleared up and has been easier to live with.  And I haven't thrown up in three days!  My fever is gone and all I've been left with is my baseline nausea and fatigue.  No, I still can't get up, but I'm approaching the sixth week of that, and I'm getting used to it. My friend JShayne told me recently that she'd give anything to be in my shoes.  I'd still give anything to be in my shoes; I'll keep giving for the rest of my life.  I feel so lucky that I crossed the line six weeks ago; I crossed the second pink line, you could say.  It's different on this side.  I had thought that nothing could be more physically challenging than IVF, and that if I got pregnant, it would all be downhill from the IVF.  But in fact, this is harder than the IVF.  I'm still on estrogen and progesterone, so you could say that I've just added nausea and hunger on top of the original state.   But there is nothing, nothing, NOTHING that can rival the fear we have all had that we would never have a baby.  That gnarled tangle of hope and fear that we have all been stuck in for years and years is the worst place on earth.  I know that I'm not out of the woods with this pregnancy yet; I'm still very far from having a child.  But at least now I know James and my eggs and sperm can conceive an embryo.  Unless and until I take on the next challenge of bad fetal health or miscarriage, just conceiving has allayed my fears a whole lot.  It convinces me that future baby(ies) will not be "inconceivable" again.  So even though nausea has knocked me on my ass, the despair has gone. It makes morning sickness, even if debilitating, a glorious walk in the park. And I wish it for all of you.  ______________________And now for some fun facts.On Monday I'll be 9 weeks along.Next Tuesday I go off the estrogen and progesterone.Next Wednesday I'll have my second OB visit.In a little over 2 weeks I'll go for the first bit of genetic testing - the nuchal transparency (translucency?) test when they ultrasound you to measure the babies' necks for Down Syndrome, etc.In a little over 3 weeks we can finally tell James's parents.  He wants to take a trip up to upstate NY and tell them in person.  I HOPE I'll be on my feet by then!