More Waiting. And Waiting. And Waiting.

So, I'm on day 40 and it feels like each day is a week long. Why? Well, when you've been through infertility, you are desperate for those "safe"milestones, like 12 weeks. Speaking of 12 weeks, is it 12 weeks pregnant, or 12 weeks fetal age - since those two are different? Apparently, because they normally can't tell when you got pregnant (this makes me laugh, since I wasn't romping four times a day for weeks on end - no, I was racing at 80 mph to get a sperm sample to the lab in time and then lying on a table staring up at a flourescent light) so they time it from the first day of your last period.

Well, whether I'm six or eight weeks pregnant, it's starting to feel real. If I don't eat approximately every 1-2 hours, I start to feel sick, and I get tired - I mean exhausted - really easily. This morning I got out my workout clothes, and felt like I'd just run a marathon.

My sister told me that she started feeling tired at week 7 - and it was like clockwork for me too.

As annoying as the nausea is (I wake up about every 3 hours having to pee, and by 3 a.m. I'll throw up if I don't eat something - bizarro) I am so glad for it, because it tells me that I'm still pregnant.

I go to see my doctor for the first time this Thursday for an ultrasound, and the whole thing will be such an enormous relief (if everything is okay).

I thought that once I got pregnant, the endless waiting game I played on the infertility treadmill would be over. Ha! Not to complain - I feel incredibly lucky to be waiting to have an ultrasound to see if the little thingy (that's the technical term) inside me is okay, instead of waiting to have an ultrasound to see if my ovaries are reacting to stomach injections of hamster hormones. But the waiting continues, and is definitely the hardest part.