So I’ve been meaning to write a blog post since I learned that I was pregnant, but it just kept getting put off by other things.
Mostly being pregnant and thus being tired at the end of the work day. Unfortunately, my book editing has also been put off. But not for long. A long Christmas weekend gives me no excuse to procrastinate! My editor and I anticipate the release of The Mages’ Circle to debut before March at the very latest. Meaning that it needs to be published before the little one is born!
I just wanted to document this crazy pregnancy journey to get a start on what will be my mommy entries in the future. This is a bit long. Sit tight.
I cannot begin to express how thankful I am that this journey finally got its start. From my Endometriosis diaries (which you can read about in earlier posts) to the recovery/trying to get pregnant part, this seemed like it would never happen.
It’s a terrible feeling being told by a physician that without their help, your percentage chance of getting pregnant is 0%. Not 1% or even 10%, but 0%. And that his help will cost roughly $2,000 each time you try. For us that meant a new credit card or a loan for one try since none of this would be covered by health insurance. What was worse, that even with his help he said our chances only increased to 8-12%. What small percentages! It didn’t seem worth it. I have too many friends who are going through that same struggle, heartache, and financial burden with no end results. So we decided not to.
We both started eating better, exercising daily and decided to stop thinking about getting pregnant. A few of my friends (to my surprise) were concerned and even irritated by our decision to hold off on trying the invasive route. But I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason, when it is supposed to. Instead, I focused on my book, and then out of the blue I got a cycle that shouldn’t have happened on time the way it did. We’d been working on our lifestyle changes for four months without fail. I was really proud of us.
My irregularity is the one thing I can count on if that makes any sense. (the PCOS books claimed that if I changed my lifestyle habits that my cycles would start to regulate, but I was stunned when it did) I instantly called my gyno and asked if we could try the Clomid medication (an ovulation stimulation med) just one more time. She happily obliged, and this time I took a different approach to how I looked at it. Instead of it being a hormone based fertility drug, it was a vitamin. A vitamin that I’d only take for a few days, and that I would forget about. Justin and I decided to stop thinking about it, and we didn’t at all for a long time. We focused on work and going to the park each morning to exercise. It wasn’t until weeks later that I was at work with terrible cramps, expecting to start the most horrendous cycle of my life that I thought something might be amiss. My breasts were hurting so badly that even a thin shirt caused me issues. I remember telling my older sister that I was so mad that my endo pain was flaring up again. It was like a slap in the face and a reminder that my endo could also cause us trouble with getting pregnant.
I’d actually gone to see my gyno the week before regarding abdominal pain, but their pregnancy test came up negative. I am an impatient person. I was pissed about it of course, so Justin and I were talking about maybe bypassing the whole treatment route and going straight to in vitro fertilization (IVF) or even adoption. We just didn’t want to be that couple, ten years later, deep into debt with no results. And what good is getting a baby if your bank account is severely in the red? You have to pay for that baby somehow! After research and many phone calls to clinics, we weren’t sure what to do. Adoption was going to set us back 20-30k, and IVF was going to put us in the hole anywhere from 13-20k. I could cut the cost in half if I donated some of the eggs they retrieved (and yes we were really considering this despite the outcry of some of our friends and family).
After finding a clinic with good reviews we decided to go do the IVF route. It was going to be cheaper than adoption, and we were going to start with applying for a bank loan. That house would just have to wait. I had decided that I would tell my boss the next day so that he wouldn’t be alarmed when I began to miss work due to the many appointments that would ensue. Not to mention the potential days I might be missing because of negative side effects from the many drugs I’d be placed on. I’d heard horror stories that terrified me.
All day my brain was encouraging me to just take a test. Now this sometimes happens to me. A lot of sometimes actually. I’d make jokes to people that First Response and EPT might actually know my first name because of how many tests I’d purchased in the past on a whim. It became a “this will make me feel better” expense, often like chocolate to some people or fried chicken. So I gave in, bought the test, and went home. I even told my older sister that I was going to take one, and she told me not to get my hopes up as I had so many tests before. I sat on my couch and downed a large cup of water, deciding not to take the test until after the show Black Box was over.
When I took the test, I didn’t even look at it when I set it on the ground. Normally, I would stare at it, willing the line to change into a plus sign. I’d wait the full time listed on the box, all the while checking it every few seconds. I even came up with little unspoken rules in my head. Maybe if I didn’t look at it until the time was over, it would work. Or maybe if I stared at it the entire time, not blinking it would work. This time, I just wasn’t in the mood. I was tired. It was my millionth or so test. I hadn’t even bothered to mention that I was testing to Justin.
So when I glanced down from the book I’d started reading and saw the plus line staring up at me, stunned doesn’t begin to describe the feeling. I blinked. I shook my head. I picked it up and stared. I screamed. I laughed, and then I started hyperventilating with joy. I won’t lie and say that I told Justin first. Yes, shake your heads at me. Justin was upset with me for it, but forgave me. In my defense, I had to wait three hours for him to get home, and I was NOT going to tell him that news over the phone. So I called my sister, crying and laughing at the same time. I scared the shit out of her. She thought something bad had happened.
I couldn’t wait to tell Justin. He’d been having a terrible day. A manager at work had quit earlier that week (no notice), leaving them short handed, and he’d had to work the entire day. Open to close. Back in September of 2013 I’d bought this mug from Etsy.
I hid it in the closet, and pretended it wasn’t there so I’d have it when I needed it. I grabbed the mug, rinsed it out, and got ready to fill it with hot chocolate to surprise Justin. This video is from that night when he found out. (in the video he’s trying to take off his shoes and work stuff, while I’m pestering him to drink the damn drink! I made an excuse in the video that the cup is for his french press, which he knew he would be getting for our fourth wedding anniversary only a few weeks away.
Once Justin knew it was just a long wait for the 12th week to pass. Each day I prayed to keep the baby safe and sound because our chances of miscarriage with PCOS were 40%. Many close friends and family told me not to get excited until after then because of that chance. I was just happy that my body had figured it out.
Finally we were able to tell Justin’s grandmother who had been recently relocated to Florida from Texas due to the loss of his grandfather only months before. We were so sad that we couldn’t visit in person to tell her, and even sadder that we wouldn’t be able to tell his grandfather. We bought her a quail egg with a note inside that read “We’re Pregnant! Estimated March 2015” and watched her open it over Facetime. It was SO special. His grandmother had lost the ability to read due to having Dementia and Parkinson’s Disease, but she was able to read this note. It touched us even more. Here is his grandmother finding out with the aid of his aunt Shannon, who was in on it.
For my parents we told them on their wedding anniversary which matched up perfectly with our 12 weeks date. We bought them each a mug that said “Grandma – Est. March 2015” or “Grandpa” same thing. They were both so confused! Only a week before, my father had asked how long we planned on trying before I would decide to get a hysterectomy since that’s one of the few things you can do for Endometriosis that has some permanent effects. Weren’t they surprised! 🙂 This is the first grandchild in the family on my side.
Since then our little girl has been growing and thriving by leaps and bounds each day. Sometimes I look down as my stomach and I can’t believe she’s already so big! Or that she’s going to get bigger! Check out the cute photos of our Lilly, expected on March 12, 2015.
We’ll have a more updated one in a few weeks. Right now we’re at 29 weeks.
Here are some fun photos I’ve uploaded comparing her size to fruits and vegetables.
This last one was taken on Christmas. 🙂
We can’t wait to see how the rest of this progresses. More updates to come! Thanks for being a part of it with us.