Have you ever given any thought to how exactly you will break the news of your pregnancy to your husband?
Have you ever daydreamed about it? Planned it over and over again in your head? And did you finally do it as you had planned?
I have... ever since I was old enough to know I am a person (and a girl at that) all I wanted to do was to be a mommy! A career mommy of course but a mommy nevertheless.
I had everything planned in my head and in the most part my life has gone according to plan. True, sometimes I needed to push and prod but things went along more or less like I had it planned.
Go to College: Check
Get degree(s): Check
Get job: Check
Be independent: Check
Meet and marry Mr. Right: Check
Buy house, create a stable base on which to raise family: Check
Have loads of children: ehmmm, can I get back to you on that?
I knew what infertility was long before I was labeled "infertile". I had gone through all the procedures, aches, pains, tears, hopes with my best friend and the thought of it ever happening to me terrified me.
I begged my husband to start trying as soon as we settled down and had a normal routine. We both had good jobs and we had been in this relationship for many long years before we got married.
But my husband had other plans. He wanted to wait and wait we did... two long years we waited for the "right" time and when the "right" time came we started trying... and we kept trying for another two long years... but no baby came.
And then I was 27 and infertile!
Be catapulted into insanity: Check, check, check
It was a long haul and I hope it will be another long haul, because somehow, in some mysterious, magical, wonderful way, after stabbing myself in the stomach with needles and expensive drugs, I recently found myself looking in total awe at this little stick with two distinct pink lines on it.
And boom... I was pregnant!!
Now if I had gotten this result two years earlier, this is what probably would have happened:
I would prepared my surprise meticulously. Hubby would be totally unaware when I presented my little two lines stick to him. In my fantasy, tears would fill his eyes and he would hold me tight and we would both cry happy tears. Then we would call everybody we knew, we would prepare the nursery, buy the stroller, buy a bigger car and I would have a blissful and healthy 9 months at the end of which I would come home with a pink, squirming, breathing, laughing, crying baby... This was my fantasy and for the most part that's what it remained. Reality was a little different...
We struggled with IF for 2 years. We saw 4 doctors, tried every non-invasine test and treatment available to man today, I gained 40lbs, hubby and I drifted more apart and on top of everything I had to watch every single one of my friends get happily pregnant and live out the above mentioned fantasy.
When I finally did get my two lines, I cried and then I thanked God, and then I cried like a hysterical person some more. Then I took another test and another and another....
And then I called hubby on the phone to tell him... and he said "I'll wait for the blood test thank-you-very-much".
That's what infertility does to you...
While you are trying to learn more and more about your condition and how to battle it, especially if you are hands on like me (hey its MY body after all and doctors ARE human to begin with!!), you come face to face with a bitter fact sooner or later: getting pregnant does not warrant a pink, squirming, laughing, crying baby at the end of 9 months.
In fact about 25%-30% of the times all getting pregnant means is a miscarriage and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it, except pray, have faith and take it one day at a time...
So here I am, 4 weeks 3 days pregnant, terrified and lost, waiting for yet another blood test to come back, praying my numbers have doubled, my progesterone is good and that I see a little dot INSIDE my uterus at my U/S tomorrow.
When did I come to know so much about pregnancy? How come I am able to quote every statistic on the book and why the heck don't I feel more pregnant? There is something potentially growing inside of me and I can't feel it. How on earth will I survive until the 6 week sonogram? Will I get a baby 9 months from now or an "I am sorry but..." speech a few days/weeks from now?
I don't know... nobody but God does.
So all I can do right now is pray, not lift heavy things, cut back on sugar, eat my green leafy veggies, take my pre-natals, do my tests and have faith that this coming Xmas ... mommy daddy and baby, will make three.