It has been a long 2+ years. While we have enjoyed [almost] every second of it with our little man, Connor, that is also how long we have been trying to add to our family. The struggle was a big surprise as it took no effort at all to get pregnant with Connor. I will not go into our full story, but the bottom line is that both Brian and I have "issues". It was after a year of monthly disappointment that we found this out. It was devastating. Connor was/is a miracle child and the chances of us having another baby on our own was about 2%.
Really? What happened? How could a couple go from getting pregnant without even trying to being essentially infertile?! What do we do now? What steps are we willing to take to have another baby?
Without going into many details, I clung to a promise that God gave me in high school for being obedient. "Your childREN will be greatly blessed." Although I have a solid relationship with God and I believe he "speaks" to us all in different ways, I have never been more confident of a direct promise that was given to me. It was not an audible sound, it might as well have been. At 17, I knew I wanted to be a mother and that is all I needed to hear to remain obedient to His plan.
You have no idea how much I have clung to those words in the last 26 months. I honestly never doubted that there would be another baby....I just had no idea when it would be. Brian and I always just assumed that we would have children about 2 years apart. That was OUR plan. For the first time in my life, my plan and God's plan for me/us have not been in alignment. It was a pretty tough pill to swallow. All I could do was cling to His promise to me. Of course there were tough days filled with doubt and thinking about how much we wanted Connor to experience being a big brother and to have a sibling throughout life.
Then there is the struggle of fertility assistance. How far should we go? I wasn't keen on IVF. I feel that it is a wonderful tool for some people, but we just weren't at that point. However, the doctors told us that it might be the only way. Seriously? How could they say that while I was holding living proof that we COULD have a baby on our own. It is called "secondary infertility" and is way more common than you would think. We are not alone. I assumed, as many others do that if you have one baby, then you could have 5 if you wanted. This is not the case. There is not a specific medical cause, it just happens. At the fertility center that we went to in Grand Rapids, 25% of the patients already have a child. I will never look at an only child the same way again. I always just thought it was because the parents only wanted one....
We decided that I would take an ovulation boosting medicine (Femara) and we would do an IUI (intrauterine insemination). We did this for 2 months. Didn't work. On the second one, I just knew it wasn't going to work before I even left the office. From an optimist, that is saying a lot. We took a break. I had one dose of Femara left and I just held onto it. The doctors told us that the next step for us would be for me to take a lot more hormones and try it again. I wasn't ready for that. (This is all in the late winter/spring of 2011.)
Without the medicine, my body/cycle was very unpredictable. Although a weird thing to pray, I asked God to tell me when to take my last dose. My "sign" was a 42 day cycle in June. I took my last dose of Femara the following month.
To my amazement and absolute delight, about 23 days into the next cycle, I just knew I was pregnant. I was so confident and yet terrified to take a test. (I even bought Connor a "Big Brother" shirt.) Sure enough, that super early morning test when I was only 2 days "late" confirmed what I already knew....I was pregnant! With tears streaming down my face, I crawled back into bed to tell Brian the good news. What a wonderful day.
I popped out in a hurry, and the pregnancy insomnia was almost immediate. (I had completely forgotten about that part from when I was pregnant with Connor.) I felt good, and I was ecstatic. We were going to be seeing both of our families in person soon, so we wanted to be strong and wait to tell them ourselves. I was about 7+ weeks along when my parents found out and about 8+ when Brian's parents found out. What an incredibly tough secret to keep, but it was also very fun getting to do it in person. As I said, I felt good and I couldn't believe how much my belly had already popped out. I've heard you "show" faster with the second baby, but sheesh! We were so excited about our ultrasound at 9 weeks.
That day was not so fun. It was a Thursday. In my mind I was exactly nine weeks. As soon as the wand was placed on my belly, I knew it wasn't good. I vividly remember what my early ultrasound was like with Connor and about how big he was (the pictures is actually still hanging in his room). This baby did not look like that. There was actually a struggle to find anything at all. And then she found it. It was tiny. Measuring at a little less than 6 weeks. She continued to look around and then we heard, "there's another one". Oh my goodness....TWINS! However, I couldn't get passed the knot in my stomach about the size of the baby. Although I hate it, my first thought when I heard there were 2 was "maybe this one will be bigger". I was very confident of my "dates" and these just did not match up. The ultrasound technician left the room. Of course I had tears streaming down my face. I was trying to be hopeful, but I already knew. These little ones weren't going to make it. Why?! Why would God torture me like this?! I had no signs that anything was wrong and I just knew that these babies were such a God-thing....why would he take them away? Especially after wanting them for so long?! Thursday was the hardest. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I wrote out a message to those that knew I was pregnant asking for prayers and filling them in on what was going on. I couldn't talk without crying, so I just didn't talk. However, I was still Connor's mom and I didn't want to scare him or make him worry. THANK GOD for our little miracle baby. His hugs and kisses sure did make me feel better during that incredibly difficult time. My follow-up ultrasound confirmed what we already knew and I had to induce the miscarriage with medicine to speed the process up (early September). Although not a fun experience at all, I was glad I didn't have to have a D&C.
Each day that went by, my body and my heart healed. We were also given some "good" news that I clung to. My OBGYN told us that they aren't sure why, but that the pregnancy rate following a miscarriage is significantly higher than normal....regardless of a woman's history. Good. We hoped to be back in his office very soon. I still don't pretend to understand God's will and I don't pretend to like it, but deep down, I know He is in control of our best interests. That, I accept and hold dear even when it doesn't make any sense to me.
3 months went by. No luck. I really wanted to get pregnant "on our own"....without any medicine. Although the miscarriage was devastating, we learned 2 things. We didn't HAVE to go to the fertility center to get pregnant and we were indeed still capable of making a baby....even if the chances are super slim. I was impatient and asked for another dose of Femara (this time from my normal OB). I took it. It didn't work. I have no definitive reason why, but I just didn't get the next month's refill filled. I honestly can't tell you why. Looking back I think it was partial laziness and partially I just wanted to see if my body was all out of whack again like it was pre-miscarriage.
It is not. :)
Day 28 was on Thursday. Of course this only matters if my cycle was actually "regular". I hate day 28. Until day 28, 29, 30, I am extremely hopeful. Maybe this will be the month?? Then, just as it has happened for so many months in the last 26, I start. Both ways are devastating, but I just don't take pregnancy tests. I would rather "start" on my own than look at a negative pregnancy test. Brian doesn't really understand this philosophy. I just don't like giving up the hope I have for that month. I swore I wouldn't take a test until I was a whole week late....especially if I hadn't taken any medicine.
Brian went to Arizona to see his brother on Friday. I still hadn't started. He asked me when I was going to take a test. I told him Sunday....even this was earlier than a normal plan for me. I had a lot of "signs" that I was going to start at any moment. But I never did. Some neighborhood friends were planning on coming over for a craft night at my house that night. This usually involves a lot of crafting and enjoying some good wine as well. The girls were coming over at 7:00. At about 5:30, I started to panic a little bit and decided on a whim that I would take a test. I didn't want to drink irresponsibly if I actually WAS pregnant. And if it was negative, I could get wasted....well, that wouldn't be responsible (and not my style) but you know what I mean. I took the test. And left the bathroom. I got Connor in his jammies and we picked up all of his cars. This is seriously the first time that I have not stood over the test to watch it work.
I went back into the bathroom to see.
Oh my goodness. Pure elation. I ran back into the living room/kitchen (can't remember) and I scooped Connor up. My eyes were weepy and he asked me if I was okay. I told him I was great and SO HAPPY. He proceeded to run around in my delight as well. I did not tell him exactly what I was so happy about, but he didn't care. He was just happy to be happy! A few minutes later, we sat down together in the middle of the kitchen floor and prayed. We always pray together before bed, but this was special. I thanked God for miracles and asked for protection and growth. Dear God, PLEASE let this one "stick".
I called Brian knowing that he was still in mid-air on the way to Arizona. I sent him a text, "Call Me."
Several days prior to this, Brian found and consumed a stash of Valentine M&Ms that I bought to display in a canister. He ate WAY more than I wanted him to and I was beyond irritated. I have gotten mad at this sort of thing before, but even more my my reaction was a bit extreme.
I just couldn't wait to tell him. Text message is pretty impersonal, but I wanted to tell him in some sort of "cute" way without just saying "it is positive". So, I wrote him a text...."Now you know not to take a pregnant girl's portion of chocolate."
He got it. Super excited. He sat in front of Screech (Dustin Diamond) on the plane, got this awesome news, got to meet Grady Sizemore and hung out with his brother in Arizona.....pretty much one of the best weekends ever for him. :)
I called the doctor's office on Monday and am scheduled for my first appointment on Valentine's Day. I should be 2 days shy of 7 weeks at that point. They called in prescription prenatal vitamins for me and I need to stop by the hospital today to do bloodwork. I have done all of these things before. There is a fine line between being super optimistic and also very cautious. I'm very hopeful because we got pregnant all on our own....no medical intervention whatsoever. Maybe my body couldn't handle twins (much more likely when taking a medicine like Femara or Clomid) or maybe it didn't make enough hormone by itself if I took the meds? Who knows. I don't really care. I just hope and pray that this one "sticks"....that this is the baby that God chose just for us and chose us to be his/her parents.
Because we are being so cautious, we are only telling immediate family. Our parents and siblings know our fabulous news. (And I told my friends that came over on Friday.....because I was so excited and because I am going out on a Girl's Night Out this Saturday and I am going to need their help hiding/faking the fact that I will not be drinking. In my hood, if I don't drink anything, they will KNOW for sure. I am not a lush at all....but that is just a sure give away.) The other day, I went ahead and put some of the week markers into my calendar. It just so happens that my week marker is on a Thursday, just like it was back in August. As I put in the first few weeks in the calendar. It came to my attention that on what would have been my due date, March 29, I hope to be 13 weeks pregnant. My hope and prayer is that this day will be bittersweet: bitter because I mourn the loss of the twin babies that were not meant to be, and super sweet because I will be far enough along with this sweet bundle that it is "safe" to shout our wonderful news from the rooftops.
The insomnia is back in full force, but other than that, I feel really good. I hate to say it, but I'm actually hoping for some symptoms just so I know that everything is okay and that the little one is doing good....
