Holy heck, it's been over a year since my last post! If I can lure my followers back, I promise never to let that happen again. I also promise not to make every single post about my beautiful baby boy...THAT'S RIGHT! The IVF worked and I am now the world's proudest mommy of the world's most wonderful baby. (Yeah, I know, gag gag gag).
I'm going to go all Reader's Digest on the last 15 months. In April of 2011 we learned that all the shots, pills, and hoo-hah invasiveness had paid off. We were going to have a baby. There aren't even words to describe what it felt like to watch the second line turn pink on a pregnancy test. I didn't cry; I didn't laugh; I didn't do a little dance next to the toilet. I just sat there on the tile, the same spot where I had watched 36 months of pregnancy tests refuse to change color. The same spot where I had pried apart said tests to hold the strip right up to the light, at times convincing myself I saw something that wasn't there. It was also the same spot where, during the three minute waiting time, I would bargain with God that if he would just let me be pregnant I would never ask for a single thing, ever again, for any reason.
I just sat. Then I raised up, headed out to the living room and continued to sit. I just drank it in. I remember experiencing a very calm, yet euphoric feeling. Soon, John came home from work and I kept my little secret until we went for our after dinner walk. About twenty minutes in I mentioned maybe we needed to slow down the pace, since it might be too brisk for a pregnant woman. John kept walking and said nothing...after about ten seconds he asked, "Did you take a pregnancy test? Are you pregnant?" I gave him a coquettish little smile and he responded with a grin so big it took over his entire face. That is one of those moments I will never forget.
My pregnancy was largely uneventful until the third trimester. Many negative changes had occurred at school and the stress was overwhelming. That in addition to the fibromyalgia made being pregnant quite a challenge. However, my OB-GYN felt differently. Here are some of my favorite quotes:
"Being a parent means having to persevere despite whatever little discomforts you may be feeling." (Really lady? Thanks for the sage advice. P.S., debilitating conditions, especially not multiple ones, are not generally referred to as "little discomforts."
"Hmmm...I've been trying for a while and I can't find a heartbeat anywhere. That's pretty unusual. I don't want you to worry though, we'll just get you down to ultrasound in a couple hours and see if we can locate it that way."
"Leaking fluid? That's totally normal at 37 weeks. It's not even worth checking."
"Contractions? That's just Braxton-Hicks. Totally normal."
Which brings us to December 14, 2011 37.5 weeks. John and I headed into Silverton Hospital for an inversion, since the baby was footling breech and didn't appear to want to turn around. Our doctor felt confident that she could maneuver him into the correct position for a vaginal delivery. That is if she felt like showing up. We had to be there at 5:00 AM, and she still hadn't rolled in by 7:00. A very nice nurse kept checking up on us so I mentioned to her that I was leaking fluid. She decided to take a sample because if it was amniotic fluid it would look like crystals under a microscope. She was convinced it was nothing but wanted to be thorough. About five minutes later she came bombing back into our room and announced we were having a baby. Today. Early. My water had broken days before. I was having actual (non-Braxton Hicks) contractions. John and I stared at one another. We stared back at the nurse. Curse words that I am not proud of were uttered by both of us involuntarily. It sounded like a bunch of sailors had taken up residence in our hospital room.
What I have learned from this post is that I am actually incapable of Reader's Digest versions. So stay tuned! Posts will be coming much more frequently now that my writing gene is getting it's freak on.
No comments:
Post a Comment