I Wanted a Girl....

From the time I thought about having a baby until the moment I found out what sex this little one would be,  I wanted a girl.  In every imaginary scene that played through my mind, I envisioned a little girl, and our interactions were always wonderful.  I wanted a girl not because I dislike little boys.  In all honesty, I just don't know what to do with certain types of little boys, and I am fearful that there is a genetic propensity on my side of the family for such boys.  I know, I know....I need to remember that nurture often times outweighs nature.  

When I think of my husband, I am often reassured that not all little boys are like my relatives.  When my husband was a child, he was extremely polite and kind to other children.  He didn't like competition, and he wasn't prone to aggressive physical behavior.  I mean, my husband's idea of a good time as a small child was watching Dr. Who episodes or Jeremy Brett's renditions of Sherlock Holmes.  He wasn't exactly a GI Joe fan.  He also didn't suffer from that proto-mysogynism that the other type of little boys seem to suffer from (Think "Ewwww, Girls have cooties!"  And "They like sissy stuff!").  Not that girls also don't suffer from gender hatred at that age.  It's just that little boys seem to do so in such an adament way.  

My relatives and many other little boys I knew, on the other hand, were often physical and coercive.  They seemed to think that in order to achieve their aims, they must force other children into doing things.  They were competitive.  Every game or activity was about winning.  And they lacked inhibition.  I think of the time my little brother caught the mattress on fire trying to melt the face off of one of his toys or the time he and another cousin pushed a younger cousin off the top of a barn roof in order to show the younger cousin that he would "safely" land on the pile of hay below."  But he didn't land where they thought he would.  He broke his leg in the fall.  When I think of little boys like these, I recall the poem by Sharon Olds in which she recounts her son's birthday party.  She depicts the little boys as hardened generals.  Her final lines always haunted me:

We could easily kill a two-year-old,
he [Old's son] says in his clear voice. The other
men agree, they clear their throats
like Generals, they relax and get down to
playing war, celebrating my son's life. (Source) 

It is also not that I couldn't love a physically aggressive little boy who is like my relatives.  It is just that I'm not sure how I would go about trying to tame him, trying to convince him to be considerate and kind to others.  I was and am afraid that I will fail. And, in the off chance that my son is like his father, how will I protect him from such little boys?  How can I help him avoid aggressiveness while also protecting himself from harm and ridicule?  

I guess my point is that I know how to be a little girl.  I don't know how to be a little boy.  I could help a little girl work through any of her dilemmas, but I'm not so sure I'll be able to help this little one thumping away in my stomach right now.  I so dearly want to protect him.  

Surprisingly, when I found out at week 19 that I was having a boy, I wasn't disappointed.  A part of me seemed to know that he was a boy.  And how could I not begin to love or already love the little creature on the Ultrasound Monitor?  I automatically began to love all the propensities and traits he was beginning to show.  I loved him.  

At this point, I must simply resolve to be the best damn Mom I can be.  I must help my future little boy negotiate those influences in society that would prefer he grow up to be overly aggressive and narrow minded.  I must help him protect himself if those influences turn violent towards him.  I must help him become a good man, not for any notion I have about appropriate male behavior but for his own benefit--for his own sanity and comfort in this strange world of ours.  

Discrimination....

I've experienced a few types of discrimination in my life.   I've been sexually harrassed, I've been looked down upon due to my social class, and I've been demeaned simply because I was a female.  Usually, I handled such situations with grace and optimism.  Such discrimination bothered me, but it didn't bother me that much.  However, I recently experienced a different type of discrimination.  This time, it really bothered me.  In fact, it angered me, frustrated me, and filled me with fear because it didn't just affect me.  It affected the quality of life of those closest to me--my unborn child and my husband.  Let me explain.

Since I announced my pregnancy at the college where I teach, I informed my supervisors on numerous occasions that I wished to be full-time.  I also, obviously, wished to maintain my current salary.  However, the overall supervisor, the official determinor of my workload this Fall, emailed me a couple of weeks ago asking me to call her.  She wanted to "discuss" my maternity leave with her.  I called her the very next day.  As I spoke with her on the phone, I was determined to be as polite and conciliatory as I could be. During the call, she began by saying she didn't want me to teach classes in the Fall because she didn't want my leave "to disrupt the students' experience."  I said fine and suggested various alternatives.  She shot down every one of them.  Then, she mentioned as an aside that the only alternative available was part-time.  And did I mention that it was at less than half my salary?  I informed her that I wanted to be full time and that I wanted full pay. She abruptly hung up on me, even though I repeatedly requested to ask just one more question before she did so.  

After she hung up, I sat there in shock.  My first reaction was to find a way to accept the reduced pay, but I couldn't.  There is no way that my husband and I could survive on his graduate assistant's salary and the meager pay she had mentioned in the phone call.  I began to panic.  Then, I started thinking about it.  I had read about pregnancy discrimination, but I wasn't sure if this was actually such a case.  From there, I decided to be proactive.  I visited the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission's website, I looked up lawyer referalls, and I read the 1978 Act on pregnancy discrimination.  This is where I discovered the following language:  "(k) The terms 'because of sex' or 'on the basis of sex' include, but are not limited to, because of or on the basis of pregnancy, childbirth, or related medical conditions; and women affected by pregnancy, childbirth, or related medical conditions shall be treated the same for all employment-related purposes, including receipt of benefits under fringe benefit programs, as other persons not so affected but similar in their ability or inability to work, and nothing in section 703(h) of this title shall be interpreted to permit otherwise." The Act then goes on to say: "It shall be an unlawful employment practice for an employer -...(2) to limit, segregate, or classify his employees or applicants for employment in any way which would deprive or tend to deprive any individual of employment opportunities or otherwise adversely affect his status as an employee, because of such individual’s race, color, religion, sex, or national origin" (Source).  Note the underlined and italicized language. Reducing my pay by more than half and cutting my hours in half would definitely be construed as an "adverse effect."

So, I had a case. But I'm not a litigious person. I don't want to go to court. I want to head this problem off, to nip it in the bud before it becomes uncontrollable. After reading the relevant parts of the Act, I thought about what I should do. Should I wait and see if she actually tried to do what she mentioned? She spoke about it in such a way that she was obviously trying to avoid such legal action. I decided it was time to grow a backbone. The best thing to do was to bring it all out in the open through a polite and forceful letter. I sent her an email phone record stating exactly what I heard her say, and I politely mentioned that cutting my wages and forcing me to work part time might warrant legal action on my part. In short, I played the blinking game with her. Who would blink first? She did.

She emailed me back claiming that she only had my best interests at heart by suggesting part time work. Apparently, according to her, a lot of pregnant women want to work part-time during their final trimester. I informed her that I wasn't one of those women. If I really wanted to work part-time due to pregnancy-related issues, I would have asked for it during the first trimester when I was worshiping the porcelain god every day.

My college still hasn't decided what they are going to do with me. At first, I was worried about it. I offered alternatives and I made suggestions. I did everything I could to be as helpful as possible. But after this situation, I fully consider it to be their problem.

Being pregnant is not a disability. I can be just as effective as a professor even if I am pregnant. But this brings up a few questions for me. What do pregnant public school teachers do? And why haven't I met another pregnant college professor in my multiple years in higher education? I don't know. The whole situation still leaves me with uncertainty and doubt, not only for my family's future, but about academia as a whole and its role as a bastion against inequality and discrimination.

Baby Started Moving!

Beginning week 13, people began to ask if I could "feel the baby moving."  I was not terribly worried about it, so I would say, "Who knows.  There's a lot of stuff going on in there.  Who can tell what's what?  Could be bad gas.  Could be the kid...."  When I said this, they would invariably look at me funny.  After a brief pause, they would say, "Well, you should begin feeling it move soon."  I never knew what to do with that.  I already have obsessive fears, and their strange reactions just added to it.  So I worried.  Was it normal not to feel the baby move?  I managed to keep the worries in check, though.  I remembered all the materials that said a first-time mother may not feel movement until week 22.  Baby Center reports that women may begin feeling movement from week 16 to 22.  WebMD reports weeks 16 to 25 as the weeks in which "quickening" begins.  Mayo Clinic reports week 20 as the week mothers "may feel" movement.  In short, I had nothing to worry about.  So I tried to go with the flow.

I had my ultrasound on May 31.  At that time, I found out I'm having a boy.  The doctor reassured me that it might be week 22 before I felt movement.  I told her I had felt "something."  I wasn't sure if it was the baby or not.  If it was the baby, it sure didn't feel like feathers--or butterflies.  It felt like quivering jello.  She laughed and said, "Yes, that's the way it might feel."  The next day, I was sitting at home alone on the sofa.  My husband was at work.  I began feeling this quivering movement again.  Except, this time it was very persistent.  And it was in only one spot--the same spot my OBGYN said my little boy's feet were positioned.  Not really knowing if it was him or not (I still wasn't convinced), I jokingly said aloud, "Okay, okay.  I get it.  You're in there."  As soon as I said it, the movement stopped.  About ten minutes later, it started again.  I decided to conduct an experiment.  I said something aloud again.  It stopped quivering.  This continued on for about an hour and a half.  I would give it a ten minute interval, and it would start up again invariably.  So, that convinced me.  I officially felt the baby moving.  He was reacting to sound, which is amazing.  I instant messaged my husband to tell him the good news.  He asked me how I knew for sure, and I said, "Well, gas doesn't usually stop when I talk to it.  Wish it did, though!"  

To Control the Uncontrollable....--Originally Published June 6, 2011

I've made a few realizations as I have journeyed this pregnancy.  My realization involves what it means to be a woman and how women feel about their bodies

All of my life, I've had a profound distrust of my own body.  I think it is because of the asthma I suffered as a small child.  I couldn't figure out why I had difficulty breathing--what made me predisposed to be miserable as opposed to my relatively healthy siblings.  As I grew older, my distrust grew, too.  Why was I heavier than other girls?  Why wasn't I as pretty as other girls?  Society had taught me to distrust my physical body and to blame myself when my physical body did not meet society's expectations.  

When I was 25, I began to change.  I began to "forgive" my body and accept it for what it was.  By the time I was 30, I very much loved the way I looked and the way I felt.  I began to trust my body to do what was right for it instead of trying to control what I had no control over.  Of course, I realized that the human brain is very much involved in the functioning of the body.  I knew that eating healthy and exercising where the best and kindest options for myself mentally and physically.  However, all of this certainty in myself and my body began to change.  

I may have mentioned previously that I miscarried in June of 2010.  It was a very early miscarriage.  I took the test on a Sunday morning and started my period that Sunday night.  I was devastated--surprisingly devastated.  I took it personally.  My body was apparently not good enough.  My body was, again, not doing it's job.   And I blamed myself.  What did I do wrong?  Did I eat the wrong food?  Did I work too hard?  Was I sending the wrong vibes to the potential life inside me?  

My husband and I tried to conceive for a while after that.  We were successful again this past January.  While trying to conceive, my expectations for my physical form were unbelievable.  Every month I didn't get pregnant, I thought that something must be wrong with this physical form.  Something must be wrong with me.  Looking back, these thoughts are ridiculous.  The Mayo Clinic suggests trying to conceive for a year.  If a couple is unsuccessful after doing so, then they are considered to have fertility issues.  Yet here I was expecting this pregnancy to happen overnight.  If I willed it enough, why wouldn't it happen?  I think once again societal expectations distorted my thinking.  My mother was a very fertile woman.  She managed to get pregnant four times in a 4 year time span.  My sister, too, managed to get pregnant three times in a 3 year time frame.  But what I would not accept is that this may have been because, at the time, both of them were significantly younger than I am.  I was comparing myself to other women when doctors will tell female patients often that each woman's experience is slightly different.  

After I got pregnant, the worry and self doubt didn't end.  Every week, I kept searching for signs of miscarriage.  It just seemed to be too good to be true.  My body reacted as a body would to an extra life growing inside of it.  I became nauseous.  I cramped.  I bloated.  I was miserable.  All of this seemed like I wasn't a "good pregnant woman."  But every time I had an ultrasound, the news was always good.  My baby was great.  He was right on target for heartbeat, organ development, weight, and size.  My body was sending me a strong signal:  It was doing the best it could, and for the time being, it was doing a damn fine job.  Around the 13th week, I let go of all that anxiety.  This could be because most pregnancies are considered viable after the 12th week.  But I think I let go because I realized what I could do and what I couldn't do.  All I did was the following:  

1. I made myself aware of miscarriage signs. 
2. I read books by respected obgyns, talked to my doctor, and visited credible websites like Mayoclinic.com and Webmd.com in order to determine what I should and should not do. 

I allowed myself to monitor my signs, and I followed the doctor's orders.  Other than that, I let go.  I just went with the experience.  

Reading books and websites and talking to Obgyns helped me move past this fear because I learned a few things about pregnancy that may surprise some women.  This information helped me realize how often a pregnancy's success is out of a woman's hands.  Mayo Clinic writes, 

"About 15 to 20 percent of known pregnancies end in miscarriage. But the actual number is probably much higher because many miscarriages occur so early in pregnancy that a woman doesn't even know she's pregnant."  This is the average for miscarriages, regardless of how many weeks a woman has been pregnant.  Most miscarriages occur before or at 7 weeks.  Some sources that I am still searching for report that 75% of miscarriages occur at this time.  In short, miscarriages happen often to a lot of women, some of them perfectly healthy women who seem like ideal "baby makers" and women who may not be healthy at all.  

The Mayo Clinic also reports that "Most miscarriages occur because the fetus isn't developing normally."  In short, a miscarriage often occurs because there is something seriously wrong with the fetus.  It is our body's way of trying to do what is in our and our potential life's interests.  

My last realization regarding miscarriage also comes from my biggest fear about miscarriage--That the fetus would experience this as a traumatic, painful last moment in his or her short life.  But as I read, I came across more information that helped me to allay my fears.  Women like to characterize their little peanuts from an early age--some as early as the date the mother discovered she was pregnant.  We like to think that the fetuses are aware and that they are happily floating about in our well-constructed cocoons.  By the seventh week of pregnancy, though our fetus' outside physical features are developing so that they look more human, the brain itself is just gearing up (WebMD).   WebMD also reports, "The nervous system is functioning and muscles are responding to stimulation from your baby's brain."  To me, this means that a fetus does not have a fully developed brain at 7 weeks.  In fact, sleep per se doesn't begin until the second trimester.  This is usually a time when a fetus is considered viable anyway (www.whattoexpect.com). I was greatly relieved to hear this. The development of the brain told me that if I were one of the many women to unfortunately miscarry by the 7 week, my fetus would feel little to no pain.  They could go peacefully.  I would still mourn for the loss of that potential life, but it helped to know it wouldn't feel anything.

I think that I've grown more trusting of my body, and I've grown more knowledgeable about what I do and don't have control over.  If I decide to have a second child, I will go through that 7 week period more relaxed.  Should the unfortunate happen, I will know that it was not my fault and more than likely not my body's fault.   I will allow myself to monitor for troubling signs, and I will visit the Obgyn when I see them.  But I now know how to trust myself and to appreciate my body for it's ability to perform the fantastic feat of creating and nurturing a new human being.  




www.mayoclinic.com
www.webmd.com
www.whattoexpect.com

In a Span of 12 Weeks....--Originally Posted 6-1-2011

I thought a timeline might be helpful for those who have never been pregnant before and who may be experiencing the same feelings and doubts as myself.  However, I must warn you that I am in no way a medical expert nor is every woman's pregnancy exactly the same.  So take any of my "solutions" with a grain of salt, and if you try them, you try them at your own risk:  

5 weeks:  This week was terrifying for me.  I began spotting.  I held my breath every day hoping that this pregnancy wouldn't go the way the past pregnancy had.  The doctor's office had me come in for some blood tests to see how my "Betas and Progesterone" numbers looked.  In short, if they are too low, this is bad news.  Here's what I posted to my pregnancy board:

My estimated due date is October 23 so my first prenatal visit was scheduled for the second week of March. However, this morning I noticed that my cm looked pink. I was worried about a possible m/c, so I called the doctor's office and they told me to come in for a blood test. They said that 2000 hcg was considered high enough to come in for an ultrasound and probably meant I was more than 5 weeks along. But my results came back at 13000 hcg. Is this something to worry about? What in the world does it even mean? I will be going back for another blood test Thursday to be sure my hcg is increasing like it should be but I would like any insight that anyone can offer.

Later on, I wrote:

My HCG was 25,000 last Thursday. My progesterone was 43. Apparently, the average is 15. I must be building some kind of superhuman baby. :P The good news is that I had no signs of spotting this weekend.

Because my HCG levels were so high, the doctor had me come in for an ultrasound. They thought I was at least 7 weeks. I was more like five or six weeks. The ultrasound technician held her cards close to her chest and wouldn't tell me what she was seeing in the ultrasound. I told her I would like pictures if it was good news and I would like no pictures if it was bad news. She didn't fall for it. She said it was "ambiguous news." I opted not to keep this picture, but I later found out that I was too early to see a fetus or hear a heartbeat. All they could see was a fetal pole and yolk sack.

6 weeks:  The spotting continued but it was very light.  I then began to feel nervous because I had no morning sickness.  I thought women were supposed to experience morning sickness earlier.  However, I soon learned to be careful what I wish for.  By mid week, the morning sickness kicked in and grew progressively worse.  At first, 7 up and saltines seemed to work.  I later tried a cough syrup like medicine you can buy in a store.  In the end, only jolly ranchers and fruit juice quelled the nausea, if it could be quelled.  I never opted for a prescription med, though I now know I could.  I feel good about toughing it out, though.  I began to struggle constantly with constipation, too.  It seemed like no matter how hard I tried, I would get constipated.  That made my morning sickness even worse.  On top of that, I developed gas that would just sit there.  My stomach was so distended.  

7 and 8 weeks:  These weeks were a blur of morning sickness, which was actually worse from 5 pm to bedtime than it was in the morning. Morning sickness is a huge misnomer.  Water from the tap became my enemy.  Every time I drank it, it smelled fishy and tasted like lake water.  My husband had to go out and buy a water filter pitcher.  I also began to develop a strange urge to gag when I used my toothbrush.  This was not fun.  My bladder was also not feeling terribly comfortable.  I was up 3 or 4 times a night and the cramping often confused me because I couldn't tell if it was in my bladder or uterus.  Looking back, I'm almost positive that about 40% of it was my uterus stretching and the other 60% was bladder pain.  I have interstitial cystitis so my bladder is usually pretty sensitive even when I'm not pregnant. However, I did have fun at my 7 week ultrasound.  Here is the post I made at my pregnancy discussion board regarding this event:  

 

Update!!!
Today, what I affectionately referred to as my "little possibility" became my "even stronger certainty" when I saw her or his little heart thump, thump, thumping away on the ultrasound. I was very relieved. I was even more relieved when the doctor affirmed that, no, I am not having twins. I think my husband would have died of a heart attack right there in the doctor's office if she had said we were having twins. But, boy did my hcg and progesterone #'s have us sweating for a while. Thanks to everyone for your support thus far. An ultrasound will be posted under the October space as soon as I figure out how.

The evening of this ultrasound, my morning sickness hit me with the hardest force.  I had to begin driving to a conference the very next morning.  When I woke up, I had breakfast and promptly lost it.  I had no choice, though.  I had to go to the conference.  So my husband tentatively said goodbye as I loaded up the car for a 4 hour road trip.  He gave me a bucket to use in case I felt the urge.  He also worried about me the whole time.

9 and 10 weeks:  During my 9th week, the morning sickness grew less prevalent.  Suddenly, during the beginning of the tenth week, it disappeared.  I felt great!  But then I began to doubt myself again.  Morning sickness is seen as a generally good sign that a woman's body is carrying her child well.  I suddenly began to fear that this was a sign that things were not right.  Three days later, I once again regretted this worry.  My morning sickness came back.

11 weeks:  Morning sickness leveled off to a bearable level.

 

12 weeks:  My husband and I had discussed the fact that I was 33 and he was 30.  We decided that a Nuchal Translucency Scan, which screens for Down Syndrome and other abnormalities, was in our and the baby's best interests.  Here's what I posted to my pregnancy board about the scan:  

 

I had my nuchal translucency ultrasound to determine the risk for down syndrome. Everything came out great! I just need to wait on the blood results. The baby was so cute. I was surprised to see it moving around so much at 12 weeks 5 days. When we first looked at the ultrasound, I could swear that the baby was staring right back at us even though I know its eyelids are still fused shut. And it became so visibly irritated when the lab tech tried to get it to turn over so she could examine its. It was like "Nope, I found this comfy position and I'm not leaving it." It started kicking its little legs and throwing out its arms in protest as she tried to push it around with the ultrasound wand. I told my husband that it's already showing a stubborn streak, which it obviously gets from him. Anyway, just wanted to share my good news! I wish I could post pics but I have no clue how to do this.

13 and 14 weeks:  During the 14th week, I came down with a cold.  I don't think I've had a cold for 4 or 5 years.  I think working around a lot of people and their germs has helped me develop a pretty stout immune system.  But, unfortunately, pregnant women often have immune systems that are a little weaker.  After all, they are working for two.  This cold made me very sick.  The gag reflex was not happy about the perpetual phlegm in the back of my throat and caused me to lose my food more than once.  At that point, I realized that I was not a good pregnant woman.  My body didn't enjoy being pregnant at all.

15-19 weeks:  During this period, my belly continued to grow and my morning sickness grew weaker.  If I get nauseous now, it is because I'm hungry.  So, I feed the hunger and it goes away.  My constipation is totally bearable now and even my bladder is feeling a little better--but just a little.  The pulling and stretching in my stomach is also uncomfortable.  I've noticed that when my skin stretches out, I develop a little rash on that part of my stomach.  Lotion usually helps sooth it.  The Tuesday of my 19th week, I had the gender ultrasound.  Here's what I posted to my pregnancy board:

What have our partners been drinking?....

Because it's a BOY!!! Yep, another boy. Being as men's sperm determine the sex and being as we seem to have a large amount of boys for this birth month, I've been wondering if it's something in the beer....I had my ultrasound this morning. I was more excited to actually see the baby and know he's okay then I was to find out the sex. When the doctor first started the examination, the baby was opening and closing his mouth like he was trying to talk. The doctor said girls do this more than boys, but mine just looked like he was chattering away. His parents are both English majors so he comes by it naturally. Then, she noticed that his legs are very long. They are longer than the rest of his body! This is obviously a mommy trait because my legs are the same way. They've always been longer than the rest of my body, even though I'm 5'4. He also had my toes! My second toes are longer than my big toes and he has these strange toes! It was hilarious. When she started the gender portion of the exam, he was bashful like I thought he would be. His mommy and daddy are also bashful. He did not want to spread his legs to show off his bits and pieces, but with a little persistence on the doctor's part, he finally gave us the money shot. My husband and I can't wait to meet our little David Joseph 21 weeks from now. He's named for the philosopher, David Hume, and for my husband and his father, who both have Joseph as middle names.

 

My pregnancy board had a preponderance of women expecting boys, which is unusual.  Globally, females slightly outnumber males.  It seems to be the biological norm.  But our board currently has 14 boys and around 7 girls.  That's pretty darn unusual.  I also developed a plan for controlling my constipation.  Each day, I have a serving of raisin brain, a big serving of fruits, and a big serving of vegetables.  I also use a fiber supplement in my coffee in the morning and a fiber supplement in my hot cocoa every other night unless it looks like my system is slowing down.  I also take a stool softener every night.  I take Gas X as I need it.  So far, I feel great.  I don't have nearly as many intestinal issues.  I have also developed a ravenous hunger.  It seems that I must have snacks between each major meal.  My weight gain has been perfect so far, but we will have to see what happens as the pregnancy progresses.  In regards to fetal movement, I think I feel little flutters on occasion, but because of my previous intestinal issues, I'm not sure what's what in there.  I just assume the baby is fine and take it day by day.

Later, I will try to post the realizations I've made regarding myself, my body, and pregnancy in general.  

Original Post From February 17, 2011--4 weeks and my fingers are crossed....

As of today, I am four weeks and four days pregnant and boy has it been a journey. My husband and I first began trying to conceive in June of last year. I quickly became pregnant. But, sadly, it was a chemical pregnancy. I tested too early. Had I waited until the actual day my period started and paid attention to the big sign, spotting, I might have saved myself the trauma of getting my hopes up only to have those hopes dashed.

As of February 17, 2011, I'm five days late for my period. I tested the second day my period didn't show up and I got a faint positive. I tested the third day and got a darker positive. On the fourth day, the line was slightly darker, and today, again, the line is even more pronounced. Other than the missed period, the only other symptoms I've had are a little bloating and some irritating and frightening "period" cramps. At first, I was pretty worried about the cramps. Every time I would feel one, I would hold my breath, hoping against hope that this wasn't also going to result in a miscarriage. So, I contacted the nurse of my intended OBGYN and she told me that period cramps were pretty common complaints at my stage of pregnancy. She also asked me to pick up a book called Pregnancy 411. It had a helpful section on cramping. Essentially, it let me know when I should be worried.

So, as of now, I am not as worried about the cramping. It seems to have subsided. My symptoms of today were irritability and fatigue. But I doubt whether or not they are a result of being pregnant. Maybe I'm just in a bad mood. But that's not really like me. Maybe I'm overworked. That could be a viable reason. In any case, I am worried that I haven't seen other signs like morning sickness and painful breasts. My breasts feel a little uncomfortable, but otherwise, they are the same old twins they have been (except for a little darkening around the areolas).

So anyway, for any readers out there, wish me luck. My bean, my husband, and I are trying to make it to April 20, the end of the first trimester. At that point, we will be certain enough to tell people.