Wow, I am completely overwhelmed by your response, thank you so much for your good wishes! And just to answer Nina's question, yes, we do call him French Fry around the house. I started calling him that immediately and eventually Stéph chimed in as well. It will come in handy in the coming months when we pick a name, as we won't be sharing French Fry's name with friends and family until he's born (and will likely remain French Fry here on the blog!).
Since I couldn't say much about what we were going through, I started keeping a short diary from week to week. In order to better preserve it and to share it as well, here's what the first two months were like:
Week three: Operating on the assumption that my cycle is regular and doesn’t have an extra week (har har), I strongly suspect that I am pregnant. Take the test two days after my “missed period” which results in a farce worthy of a bad sitcom. After seeing a very faint second line, I march into the bedroom where Stéph is still sleeping, turn on the light and ask how many lines he sees. After declaring him blind for only seeing one, he finally grabs the box for the pregnancy test and confirms that he’s not looking for two lines in the test window, but two lines in total. Hilarity and pregnancy ensues.
Week four: Blood test confirms that I’m knocked up.
Week five: My first appt with the Dr. First ultrasound – baby’s in the right place but we can’t hear the heartbeat. Dr suspects that I am not as far along as we think and asks me to come back in ten days for another ultrasound to confirm the pregnancy. Meanwhile, the second blood test comes back positive for toxoplasmosis. Rather – I have the antibodies associated with tp and it seems I had tp recently but before this pregnancy. Second test is ordered for more details.
Week six: Second ultrasound, this time Stéph is with me. We hear the heartbeat for the first time and I nearly burst into tears. Dr confirms what we discussed in last appt that I ovulated a week late, putting me at six instead of seven weeks. Dr wants to see me one more time before we do our declaration, making this pregnancy official. Still waiting for results of detailed tp blood test. Dr suspects that toxoplasmosis caused miscarriage in December.
Week seven: As Stéph says, it’s going better because it’s going worse. Morning sickness is taking the form of making me want to vomit if I don’t eat something every couple of hours. The mornings are perfectly fine, but by late afternoon the nausea starts if I’ve been sitting in front of the computer too long or forget to have a snack. By evening I’m freaking sick of eating and am choking down biscuits (not proper southern biscuits, unfortunately) just before bedtime. Detailed test confirms that tp happened before this pregnancy.
Week nine: Third ultrasound. This time FF is movin’ and shakin’. I think he’s shaking his booty while Stéph says he was waving ‘bonjour!’ Dr gives us the papers for starting our declaration. Later in the week, I swear I hear my breasts scream in pain. Regular monthly blood test comes back positive for tp antibodies again but with “no significant increase.” Still no talk of taking medication*. How did I get tp in the first freaking place, I’d like to know. Bought my first piece of maternity clothes on eBay – a black skirt (though it’s not the first maternity clothes in my possession, as Doc has given me some of hers).
*I had forgotten at the time, but it seems that once you've contracted toxoplasmosis, you're thereafter immune to it, so it's normal that I would still have the antibodies. It wasn't until the secretary reminded me at my last appointment when I asked why I didn't get another perscription for a toxoplasmosis blood test that I remembered.
Next time - month three and where we go from here.
PS - I started the second trimester yesterday. Woo!