I’ve been absent for a while. My last post divulged my
fertility issues. I laid it out there, short and sweet, yet still raw. And,
clearly, therapeutic because several weeks after I put it all out there, I
discovered I was pregnant. And it was the most incredible feeling. Nearly 2
years of trying had brought me to a low point. It was a frustrating journey, to
say the least. To be frank, I haven’t wanted to sit down and write about it;
I’ve talked about it with people but it was too painful to see in writing. I
also felt like there are many others who have a bigger struggle and struggle
longer and my own journey was insignificant in comparison. But, I am owning my
feelings and my journey is my own.
Therefore, I have a story to tell.
It began with the final decision to go off birth control. I
finished out the two months of pills I had. (Side note: I am on birth control
to regulate my hormones because, without it, I don’t regularly menstruate; it
is normal for me to have only four periods a year). Thinking back, I had been
off birth control for a year and half before I got pregnant with Olivia.
Granted, we weren’t trying to conceive at the time but it was certainly telling
information in hindsight.
Shortly after I stopped taking the birth control pills, it
became painfully obvious that conception was not going to be easy for us.
Within weeks, I started bleeding. For weeks at a time, I would bleed. I tried
to give my body the benefit of the doubt. Maybe my body was readjusting its
hormones. But irritation turned to frustration and frustration turned to
desperation as the breaks between bleeding became shorter and shorter. What do
you do when you won’t stop bleeding? How are you supposed to even try to get
pregnant if your body won’t let you do thing that causes pregnancy? This went
on for months. I spent my free time researching possible causes and sending
emails to my doctor all the while my husband doing his best to keep my spirits
up.
At my yearly OB/GYN appointment, I discussed the problems
with my doctor. She told me to schedule an ultrasound so they could check for
abnormalities in my uterus. But, because of my young age (28 at the time), she
couldn’t address fertility treatments until we had been trying to conceive for
a year. Again, the frustration was boiling over at our inability to even try to
conceive since I was bleeding too frequently.
I made the ultrasound appointment. But I knew they wouldn’t
find anything. I knew this was all related to my hormones. I almost wished
there was something physically wrong that they could point to as the cause
because not having answers is a worse condemnation. I knew this had to be done
so they could move on to the next step in the process. Unfortunately, the day
of the ultrasound, I had to bring Olivia with me. My sweet 3-year-old daughter
wanted a sibling more than anything and I knew taking her to this appointment
would get her hopes up but I was out of grandparents to watch her. As we left
the appointment, she held my hand and looked up at me and asked, “Is there a
baby in your tummy now, mommy?” I cried when we got back to the car. And I
cried again when I saw my husband.
Of course, they didn’t find anything wrong with my girly
parts. The next step was to have a sample of the lining of my uterus taken and
tested to see what kind of hormonal issues I was having. But I had had enough
of appointments and doctors at that point, so I never made that appointment. Instead,
I wanted to sit in the shower, hug my knees and cry. Or, at the very least, not
hear from or go to the doctor’s office for a while. I powered through on my
own. I let up on my workouts and diet. I have low iron and low blood pressure
so I thought maybe the extra workouts and my diet were putting an extra strain
on my body. I figured any little bit had to help.
Slowly, the bleeding began to subside over the next month.
We spent the next few months trying as often as we could and I tried to take my
mind off of why we were jumping in bed every chance we could. I knew putting
too much pressure on myself would only stress my body out more. But the
question kept creeping up in the back of my mind: What if I can’t have any more
children? What if Olivia was my miracle baby? My husband and I always talked
about having multiple children and I’ve dreamed of a family since I was a small
child. But that dream was slipping away and that was the heartbreaking truth I
was trying to not face. I didn’t want to get to the point of fertility
medication. I felt if we got to the point that we were spending money on
fertility treatments that we would just put that money towards adoption.
By the spring of 2014, I started to refocus myself. We had
passed the one year mark and I started emailing my doctor about my options.
That was an irritating month or so of back-and-forths with no results. So, I researched
and ordered some supplements that were supposed to help naturally balance my
hormones. I took those through their cycle and continued clinging to hope that
my body just needed to balance itself out. But, summer slowly crept in and
still no baby. I read an article on the benefits of drinking 3 liters of water
a day. I thought I was drinking enough trying to get in 64 ounces but decided
to give it a go. What the hell? It’s not like it could do any harm. I started
drinking 3 liters of water a day around the middle of June. The third weekend
in June, we left for the Police and Fire Games to watch my husband play in the
softball league. Even with Olivia and our dog Daisy in tow, we still managed
some hotel hot stuff.
It was 2 weeks after that, that I noticed my body wasn’t
quite right. My breasts were gigantic and painfully tender, I was incredibly
bloated- six extra pounds of water weight to be uncomfortably exact- and I
really just felt off. At which point, I pulled out the extra pregnancy test I
had in my desk at work and saw the most beautiful little positive line faintly
appear. But that is another story for another time.
I don’t know what finally did the trick. I don’t know if it
was anything I did that helped this process along or if it was just time for
baby #2 to finally come along. Whatever the case may be, we have a sweet baby
girl due at the end of March.
That is my story.
