Post Baby Blues...

Not depression...  just...  blue.  

It is hard to believe that after such an incredible, (one of the most incredible) moment it is possible to feel anything but absolutely amazing and high from the idea that this new little beautiful, precious baby has entered your life.  But, I did.  And I think it is a combination of those natural high cloud 9 feelings mixed with the sad blue feelings that make it so confusing and hard to comprehend.  They clash, in a way.  

We arrived home in the early evening of January 1, 2009 and I couldn't wait to introduce my baby girl to her new baby brother.  We walked in the door and my daughter was very happy to see us, but a little weirded out by the tiny little bundle I was holding in my arms.  My mom and sisters had been staying with her so she was having a great time.  And my apartment was spotlessly cleaned and my mom had cooked up a storm.  Something we are all always so very thankful for.  At first my daughter wasn't into the idea of a formal introduction to her brother so we just gave her the space she needed until she was ready.  Which happened to be the very next day.  She sat on our love sac (foam bean bag) and asked to hold her baby brother.  It was the sweetest moment.  I cried.  Of course... 

I will admit, our 1st night at home was R-O-U-G-H.  I was prepared for the nursing on demand and knew that I wouldn't be getting much sleep, but for some reason it was just different than when we first arrived home with my daughter.  Aside from only being a day old my baby boy already required way more attention...  Attention I had absolutely no problem giving, it was just an adjustment phase.  Naturally.  He needed to be changed with practically every wet diaper because if I wasn't fast enough to change him he would leak.  Man, baby boys pee A LOT!  And if you don't change fast enough you are surely to get peed on as well!  So my awesome husband and I spent most of our nights nursing him, changing his diapers AND jammies and then re-swaddling him, only to do it all over again an hour later.  Add to that my baby girl waking up a 5am and wanting to nurse and come to our bed with us...  Of course we let her.  That 1st night/morning my husband offered to take my baby boy to the couch with him while my baby girl and I nursed and cuddled, but I wasn't about to let that happen.  Nope.  We all cuddled in our bed and my babies took turns at my breast.  And then we tried our best to sleep until at least 7am!  Sometimes we'd stretch it to 8!  By then I had to get up to make breakfast and start our day...  This all sounds pretty normal right?  Why would I be sad at all?  Well...  there were a few bumps in our road ahead.

Because my husband is completely dedicated to his family AND to his job he wasn't able to get out of the already scheduled inventory at his company.  Especially since he is the manager and had to be there to supervise his dept.  So about 10 days after we returned home he had to go back to work for 3 nights - starting at around 8pm and not returning until somewhere between 2-4am.  Which meant I was on my own at bedtime and throughout the night...  My daughter was still nursing to sleep as was my son (of course!) and I felt like a complete failure at managing my time between my babies.  They both needed me so and I had to make them both feel 100% loved and soothed.  I settled for nothing less.  Most nights I ended up on the couch, nursing them both after neither one of them would go to sleep.  Once my husband was home and in bed he never once hesitated to still get up to help me, which I felt so lucky to have, but of course I made him rest up as much as he could.  Mornings came and I would do my best to juggle a crying newborn while making eggs for my baby girl.  I wasn't smart enough to have a sling back then so I would just hold him and cook with one hand or put him in his swing and hope and pray he wouldn't cry.  Once breakfast was made and my daughter was eating peacefully I could sit and just swoon over my son.  And by then my husband insisted on getting up to be there for us and with us throughout the day.  

By this time his parents had flown into town to visit their brand new grandson.  They were (still are!) so proud.  They were staying at a nearby hotel and as soon as everyone was up, dressed and able we would go visit them at their hotel for breakfast or lunch or to simply hang out and visit.  Admittedly it was difficult for me to muster up the strength to leave the house...  healing after the birth was rougher than I had anticipated.  And I was just plain exhausted.  Never the less getting outside always felt nice and the fresh air was something we all most definitely needed.  And when I felt I just couldn't do it they had no problem coming to us.  They spoiled us with love and support and I secretly hoped the birth of their grandson would persuade them to move closer to us...  I still haven't given up on that hope. 

There was one more bump in the road...  We had given notice to move out of our apartment and needed to be out by January 15th.  Yep,  two weeks after my son was born we had to pack up and get out.  And nothing in my apartment was packed.  Nothing.  I was so not ready for this. It was our decision to move and something we needed to do for financial reasons, but still, I was dreading it.  Immensely.  I felt at a complete loss.  I didn't want to leave it all up to my husband to take care of, even though he was completely willing and able, but there was literally not one single part of me that felt I could handle the stress of it all.  Which also made me feel horrible.  I am also not very good (at all!) about asking for help.  It's just not in my nature...  something I need to work on, for sure.  So when my amazing friends called and begged to come over and help I repeatedly told him "no thank you".  My exceedingly generous IL's (In-Laws) heard we needed to buy a fridge for our apt. and took us shopping to pick one out.  They didn't even question it.  We needed it?  They were going to provide it for us.  They also offered to pay for movers when they heard we planned to do it all ourselves....  So we graciously took them up on their offers and tried our best to express our heartfelt gratitude.

Our 2 leases overlapped so we could take our time moving in and we were able to kill 2 birds with one stone by meeting the delivery company for the fridge and the gas company guy all in the same day (at the new apt).  My daughter immediately chose the room she wanted and in fact the day we were there waiting she and my husband took a nap together, on the carpet, in the room she still sleeps in today.  I wound up taking a little walk with my baby boy while looking around our new neighborhood.  Things were looking up.

It was January 13th, the last morning of my husbands inventory and ONE day before our movers were scheduled. And there was still so much to be done.  I got a call from a very good girlfriend of mine and I must have been feeling completely vulnerable because after her many offers and persuasions I ultimately gave up and let her come over to help.  She has a son my daughters age and so I also knew they would be happy to see each other.  After visiting with my baby boy for a bit she just took over and packed up my entire kitchen.  In no time at all.  My heart was filled with love and gratefulness.  I have to add that this is also the same girlfriend who had her husband stop by a couple days after we got home with a big ole' box of gifts and homemade delicious food for us.  She knew that if I saw her I would invite her in, but that I wasn't quite ready for visitors so she sent her husband up to drop it off with a note that we would see her soon.  She rescued me that morning.  And I am forever thankful to her.

By the end of that day we were somehow close to 95% ready for the movers.  My husband stepped up huge and practically packed up our entire place.  I managed to pack up a few things here and there, but I take no credit for getting us ready.  I know how tremendously lucky I am to have such remarkable people in my life.  And with that...  moving day fast approached.  Like it or not.  January 14th was upon us. 

New life.

One of the reasons I chose to pursue a VBAC was because I knew that a vaginal birth would "require less hospital" time for me.  And I was in a hurry to get back home to my baby girl.  I was in no hurry to rush any after birth bonding with my son, but I also felt that we, as a family, needed to start bonding right away.  

After my son was born I remember feeling much more awake and alert.  I knew this time around that there was absolutely NO WAY that I would go anywhere close to hours without my son by my side.  I didn't have to overcome any drug effects and I sure as heck didn't have to sleep any off either.  They measured him, weighed him and got all necessary information in the very room he was born in, just as before, but after wrapping him up and bringing him to me they walked away, giving us ample time to bond before they had to move us to post delivery.  I could barely hold back the tears.  I was beaming with a sense of accomplishment that I birthed my son into this world against the overall popular notion that because I had a cesarean before I had to have another.  And the truth is if I wound up having another cesarean I would've been ok with it.  But I knew that IF it were to happen, it would be absolutely because of necessity and not because of convenience.  It was going to be my decision.  You know... my choice. 

He looked up at me with such open eyes and I couldn't believe he was mine.  I couldn't wait to try nursing him.  He was sucking on my finger for a while and a few of my family members came in to visit and to see my brand new gorgeous baby boy.  

They asked to take him for his 1st bath and since they were also going to move me to my next stop, post delivery, I allowed them to bathe him in the nursery and was assured that my husband would stay by his side the entire time.  And after a few short moments he was back with me in my room. They had him in one of those little plastic see through cribs and rather than leaving him there, I scooped him up and laid him next to me, in my hospital bed.  Where he slept for the rest of our stay.  Swaddled and cozy, right next to his mommy.  

We were successful when it came to nursing and I wondered how my baby girl would handle having to take turns, especially since my son would be nursing on demand, whenever he wanted.  They actually wound up being our most beautiful moments. There were a few instances where I would be nursing them both, at the same time, one on each breast, and my daughter would reach out her hand to hold her brothers hand.  Oh my, it was so beautiful.  So Amazing.  So Lovely.  True sibling bonding.  And all at my breast, where they both sought nourishment, comfort, love and soothing.  I was so thankful for those moments.  

My son was born on New Years Eve and because everything went so marvelously we were able to check out and go home the very next day.  January 1st, 2009 we were all together, as a family, and were eager to go about living our lives. 

Happy New Year! Part two.

We arrived at the hospital and I stayed in the car while my husband ran to get a wheel chair.  I didn't need it, but he wanted to "take care of me" so I let him...  I thought it was cute.  When he walked up to the security guard, rather than telling him he needed a wheel chair to help me in, he told him I was "giving birth in the car".  The guard just about choked on his drink and before he could get up to really react, my hubby quickly corrected himself by saying that I was in early labor and just needed to check in.  I decided at that point that I would just walk in.  Walking was better for labor, anyway. We then proceeded to almost walk the wrong way.  It wasn't our 1st rodeo, but we were sure acting like it! 

We finally arrived to the Maternity Floor and I signed in.  The time on the clock when I signed in?  Midnight.  Exactly.  December 31st.  I wasn't keen on the idea of being there for 24 hours so any thoughts about having "the 1st baby of 2009" went out the window.  There was a lot of chatter about moms checking in and in labor to see who would have that new years baby!  Me?  I just wanted my baby.  And I wanted him to decide when it was time to come out.  And as of then he was doing a great job of it.  

After we finished any paperwork we were showed to our room.  I changed into the gown and my 1st shift nurse introduced herself.  I explained my "situation" to her and she immediately jumped on the support train and was 100% for me going for my VBAC.  In fact, not only did she encourage me going for a natural labor, she assured me she wouldn't mention drugs.  Ever.  I felt so supported.  Between her and my husband I was feeling really great that everything was going to go as planned.  

I wanted to be able to walk around and be free to sit and get into different positions to help alleviate any pain and my nurse was quick to get the necessary "permission" I needed for intermittent monitoring.  She even helped by showing us different positions I could stand in and by showing my husband how he could support me.  She also helped to control my breathing.  My contractions were getting intense and she was instrumental in helping me to get through them.  I had seen my OB a few times by this point and all was going smoothly.  Until...  around 7am, that is.  When my nurse's shift was over.  Noooooooooooo!!!  I couldn't believe she had to leave...  I admit it - I was terrified.  Everything was going so smoothly and I hastily jumped to the conclusion that I wasn't going to be able to do this without her help.  Help that had been getting me exactly where I wanted to be. 

My new shift nurse was very nice.  Also very encouraging and supportive.  In fact when my OB came in to check me and saw that my contractions had "stalled" for a bit he told my nurse to give me a small amount of pitocin to get them "moving along" again...  my nurse winked at me and said she wasn't going to.  That made me feel good and I felt like things were looking up.  Again.  My OB came in a while after and saw that the pitocin had not been given...  so my nurse literally gave me the least amount possible and then soon after that, turned it off.  I know now that I could have easily told my OB I did NOT want it and that it was completely MY decision.  

My contractions did indeed pick up and within a couple hours I was smack in the middle of the most intense and powerful pain.  I had forgotten everything my 1st nurse told me or rather I remembered and was unsuccessful in trying to breathe through and relax.  My husband, god bless him, tried so very hard to help me, but nothing was working.  And I was giving up on myself.  The worst thing I could have done.  I know it. I tensed up and I didn't allow myself to give into the pain.  Add to that the anger I was feeling for letting the pain get the best of me and I was a wreck.  I turned to my husband and told him I wanted the epidural.  I uttered those words that I am sure every mommy utters at one point or another... "I can't do this".  But instead of saying it and doing it anyway, I said it and then proceeded to ask for my nurse to page the anesthesiologist.  And the moments I sat there waiting and waiting were the worst.  The pain got even more unmanageable and the anticipation of it going away only made things worse.  The anesthesiologist arrived and "hooked me up" and it was only a matter of time before I realized that I had just taken away any ounce of freedom I had.  I made it completely impossible to walk around anymore.  I couldn't even go to the bathroom on my own.  The numbness was overwhelming and I was so extremely disappointed in myself.  I knew that my body would now have a chance to really relax and "open up", but it wasn't supposed to happen that way. 

We were making our way into the early afternoon and I decided that I was just feeling "too numb".  I didn't like it.  I hated it, in fact.  I asked my nurse to page the anesthesiologist to come in and turn my epidural down.  All I wanted was to take the edge off, I did not want to be this numb.

I waited patiently for the drugs to wear off, but when they didn't wear off enough I paged her again and asked her to just turn it off.  Completely.   By this time I had been moved to "Active Labor" because I was at 4cm when my OB last checked me.  It seemed to move quicker and quicker this time and now I was anticipating the drugs wearing off and having my baby!!  My OB came in to check me and my nurse was by my side telling him we wanted to hear good news!  "How about 7cm"?  he quickly replied.  And then he turned to me, smiled and said, "you're going to do this, Anita".  I was going to have a successful VBAC.  I was thrilled.  It was almost time to meet my baby and I wasn't going to have to do it from an operating table.  I would be able to hold him from the moment he was born.  I was indeed ready.

7cm quickly progressed to 10 and the epidural was wearing off.  Slowly, but surely.  My nurse was so excited for us and she talked to me a bit about how I needed to push when the time came.  She paged my OB and he was on his way, but while we waited she wanted to go over a "practice push" with me.  I did everything she told me to do and gently pushed...  as this was happening my OB walked in and said, "hey, wait for me", in a half joking way.  Basically my son was so ready that he was on his way out with just my practice push.  And in that moment I was overcome with happiness.  I asked my nurse if there was a way I could see my son being born and she grabbed the standing mirror and put it in place so I'd be able to see him coming into this world.  My OB was just about ready.  It was all very casual.  Nothing like I had been through with my c-section.  There was no sense of hurry or worry.  I was in labor and almost ready to have my baby.   It was only a matter of minutes before I was going to be holding him!!  My miracle baby boy.

FIVE. MINUTES. LATER. my son was born.  I did it.  And as soon as he was born he was immediately placed on my chest and in my arms.  All I could do was stare at his gorgeous face.  He was oh so perfect.  My beautiful baby boy.  My son.  I burst into tears as my husband and I kissed and just stared him.  I couldn't wait to bring him home to meet his big sister.  My babies.  My loves.

In just a few short months I had gone from not knowing I was pregnant to finding out, to holding my baby in my arms.  I felt so lucky.  So blessed.  So happy.  So incredibly fortunate.  Time stood still, for just a moment.  And in that moment it was just my baby boy and I.  And our life as mommy and son had begun.  

Happy New Year! Part one.

Happy, indeed.  The happiest, in fact.  Ever.

My pregnancy was pretty much uneventful, in the best possible way.  No unnecessary testing and no concerns.  It was a definite variation from my daughter.  I wasn't worried about missing out on the testing that is normally done in the 1st trimester.  And I wasn't concerned that my daughter was still nursing.  In fact she continued to nurse throughout my entire pregnancy and I made the decision to allow her to tandem nurse if she hadn't weaned by the time my baby boy was born.  I wasn't about to push her aside for her brother.  And from what I read about breastfeeding and it's countless benefits, I knew it would help them grow closer together.

The holidays were upon us and my due date was fast approaching!  We celebrated Christmas and I tried very hard to make it as  memorable as possible, considering it would be my daughter's last one as an only child.  She was, no doubt, spoiled rotten and I loved every minute of watching her open presents. 

New Years Eve was right around the corner and the idea that we would soon be welcoming a new baby to our family was both miraculous and overwhelming.  Overwhelming because we had plans to move mid-January and the idea of packing up and heading out with a toddler and a newborn was not something I was looking forward to.  Our decision to move was based solely on our financial situation and we really had no other choice.  Fortunately we found an even larger place for less money.  Hallelujah!

December 30th, 2008...  My sister was visiting and I had just completed a long day at work.  I was ready to go home to my baby girl.  My husband was working late so it was just my daughter and I at for bath time and bed time. We went through our usual routine and after some nursing and cuddling she was fast asleep.  I had been experiencing contractions on a nightly basis, but nothing consistent in one night.  Did that make sense?  I would feel contractions pretty much every night, but never for long periods of time.  So I never paid too much attention...  just waited for them to pass.  On this particular night I felt a really big and painful contraction, the only one of it's kind so far and I wondered if it meant anything...  and after not feeling another one for a while, I didn't give it much more thought.

That night, and like most nights, I got hungry and instead of cooking something I simply called my husband to ask him to bring home Carl's Jr.  I was craving it.  He took our order and showed up moments later with our grub.  We ate, relaxed and he treated me to a fabulous foot massage.  Good man. 

I got up to go to the bathroom and afterward, walked over to my kitchen counter to open a hazelnut chocolate bar...  I barely unwrapped the tin foil when all of a sudden...  I felt a burst of liquid and quickly realized what had just happened.  "Oh no, I think my water just broke!"  I couldn't believe it!  This was it!!  My body was indeed making all of the decisions. I ran back to the bathroom to sit and think about what our next move should be.  I wasn't used to having so much liquid come out either.  When my water was broken with my daughter there was hardly any at all.  My husband brought me the phone and I called my ob's office.  The on call Dr. suggested I go to the hospital.  So my husband and sister rushed around gathering my things and brought me some clothes to change into.  The plan was my sister would wait at my house for my mom so she could stay with my daughter.  My bag was pretty much packed, aside from a few toiletries, so there wasn't much else to do.

Once we were ready to go we went in to kiss our baby girl goodbye...  We had never left her overnight and while we knew we were heading out to have a baby, we were still sad we wouldn't be home when she woke up in the morning. 

We headed out of the house and my sister let us know she would text me when she was on her way to the hospital.  She was on video duty so it was imperative that she get there fast.  The camera we were going to use belonged to our good friends and since I went into labor earlier than I expected I hadn't yet borrowed it from them.  I sent a widespread text letting everyone know what was going on and my girlfriend, the one with the camera, immediately texted back that she was on her way to drop off the camera with my sister.  It was around 11:15pm at this point...  and she even stopped along the way to buy tapes for us.  I was very unprepared.  Thank goodness for amazing friends! 

I couldn't believe we were on our way to the hospital.  To have a baby.  I had no idea what was in store, but I was ecstatic to get there.  I was ready.  And I couldn't wait to meet my baby boy!!

My Birth. My Body. My... Choice?

After my daughter was born I, thankfully, found myself constantly surrounded by other mommies and our conversations almost always ended up being about birth, breastfeeding and all things baby.  It was just what it was... we were (are) mommies and our babies were (are) our lives. 

We were happiest when we were watching our babies play together and when we could share our countless stories.  Mainly, our birth stories.  One of my girlfriends was heavily into natural birth and in fact had her baby girl at home.  That amazed me.  It was never anything I thought about doing and yet I found myself intrigued.  And full of questions.  

Since my daughter was born via c-section, I was under the, (heavily misguided), impression that once you had one c-section, you were automatically headed toward another.  And if it weren't for my mommy friends who knew better and helped to teach me to do the research and fight for my choice, I seriously doubt I would've made the (right) decisions I did.  

It turns out there is a term for a woman who has a vaginal delivery after a cesarean section... It's called a Vaginal Birth After Cesarean or VBAC.  When I first heard this term I had may questions and I wanted answers.  For the 1st time I felt like I could actually have a real say in how my babies were going to be born.  And that wasn't a slight on my ob, at all, just a realization that I didn't have to conform to what medical doctors often recommended.  I told myself that if I ever got pregnant again I was going to have a VBAC delivery.  And if my ob wasn't on board with it, I would find one who was.  

Around the same time I found out I was pregnant, or even a little before, a new movie/documentary about birth was released.  It is a film made by Ricki Lake and is called, 'The Business of Being Born'.  I highly recommend it.  It is a much needed educational film on child birth and how most major hospitals/doctors today push women to have unnecessary c-sections.  It is incredibly informative.  Of course, not all hospitals and doctors are the same and I actually believe my ob is an exception to the rule, but the truth is that there is a wide spread epidemic of unnecessary medically induced births and it was time we as women, took back our bodies.  Our choices.  

I knew, from the moment I heard of a VBAC, it was the way I planned to go with my next baby. And after watching the movie I was even more convinced that not only was my body capable of going thru a vaginal delivery, but that I would stand up and stand strong for what I knew was right.  And at my next appointment I told my ob about my birth plans and he, fortunately, was supportive.  I was painfully aware that a lot of doctors and hospitals did not allow VBAC deliveries, so I was thankful to be apart of a medical team who warmly welcomed the idea. 

I also had to get my family on board, most importantly my husband.  It became my responsibility to help inform them of the actual truths and statistics of having another cesarean verses a vaginal birth.  It wasn't an easy task with a husband who grew up solely relying on doctors and medicines and naturally he was hesitant to hop on board.  I wore him down, gently, and provided him with articles to read.  And after seeing how important it was to me, he changed his tune and started supporting the idea.  100%. 

And so, our decision, my choice, had been made.  I was in charge and I called the shots.  And it felt damn good. 

The Afterglow.

I was aglow.  Overnight I had grown  a big ole' preggie belly and I needed to wear my maternity pants.  "I told you so" never felt so good to hear.  

I couldn't stop thinking about the previous 5 months and that fact that I only had about 4 months to prepare for my baby's arrival.  We estimated my due date around January 6, 2009.   I was having another baby.  As incredibly excited as we were, I was also very nervous.  How was I going to do it?  Would my baby girl be ok?  We were still nursing and I was worried about her having to "share me" with another baby.  Was I ready?  Haha, ready or not...! :-)

I had another moment of realization soon after I found out (there were many!).  All of a sudden it made sense that my milk supply had dipped so low - to almost nothing.  And that's why nursing became so sensitive!?!  At one point I was so worried about my milk supply I started drinking Mother's Milk Tea.  All along...  it was a baby in my belly.  Thank God.  Our little miracle.  And thank goodness my daughter wasn't affected at all by it.  She continued to nurse for comfort when she wanted/needed to.  For as long as she wanted/needed to.

We did miss all of the recommended 1st trimester testing, but we were in time for our 2nd trimester screen.  Here is the ultrasound picture we received at that appointment -

 

  

Oh sweet sweet baby boy.  

I could stare at you for hours.  

And I pretty much did.

I continued working at the baby boutique and all of a sudden my 30% discount took on a whole new meaning.  I couldn't stop looking around the store at things I wanted!  And all of our friends and family were so eager to offer any and all help we needed.  We were so lucky.  So blessed.  We had gotten what we wanted and all we had to do now was wait.  And watch my belly grow...  

I didn't know I was pregnant...

Yep.  I was "that" girl.  Granted, I didn't go all the way and find out when I went into labor, but I did go 22 weeks...  That's just over 5 months.  Whoa.

So, I went to work on Friday and did indeed purchase a test during my lunch break.  I decided to wait until I got home that evening to take it.  My SIL was visiting (good luck charm, perhaps?) and when I got home I immediately went into the bathroom to test.  Holy. Moly.  It was positive.  I was in shock.  Disbelief.  In the most amazing way!!!  Don't you know what this means???  This means that my husband and I created life, completely on our own.  Without any medical intervention.  We did it!  "Highly unlikey" my ass!  :-)

And then I started to wonder... How far along was I?  I was already feeling movement so I had to be far enough along.  I estimated the 1st day of my last period was April Fool's Day (how funny is that!?!) and so in my mind I was calculating that I was around 5 months already.  FIVE MONTHS???  Are you kidding me??  Sooo, I finally get pregnant naturally and I wind up missing out on the entire 1st half?  And then some? Dude.  Not cool.  But oh so remarkable!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I had remembered 2 incidents that happened before this...  one random incident with a stranger at a Whole Foods check out.  She was ringing me up while I was holding my baby girl and she said those words to me...  You know, those forbidden words you NEVER, EVER, EVER say to a woman.  "Are you pregnant"?  My initial thought was to say, "no, but I have gained some weight".  But instead I just looked up at her and said, "I don't know."  And then she said, "I think you are".  I just smiled and took my groceries and left.

The other incident was at a friends wedding in August.  Just a week and a 1/2 before I found out.  The groom saw me standing in the bar area and since there was loud music playing he simply looked at me and patted his own belly...  as if to ask me if I was pregnant.  I just smiled and nodded my head "NO" and went to find my husband. 

Those were the only 2 times in my life that has ever happened to me.  And as it turns out...  they knew before I did.

I know you all have seen or heard about that show on Discovery Health and have had that same thought...  "How is it possible to not know"!??!?!  Well, I completely understand now.  Remember...  I had been pregnant before.   I knew what fetal movement felt like.  But even still I did not think I was pregnant.  I was stuck on "highly unlikely" and would not allow myself to get past it.  And up until my pregnancy was confirmed I was literally forcing myself to fit into my regular work pants, changed my diet and began working out to handle the "weight gain".  I can totally understand how someone who has never been pregnant, hardly gains any weight and isn't even thinking about it can go a whole 9 months.  Man...  I was almost there.

I walked out of my bedroom to find my husband in the kitchen and quickly pulled him into the bedroom.  My SIL was playing with my daughter in the family room.  He walked in and I showed him the pregnancy test.  The positive test.  He smiled and said, "na ah!", but in that tell me it's true kind of way...  I just ran into his arms and told him I was pregnant!  We hurried out to tell his sister and then we called our families.  Everyone was so happy for us.  We were so happy for us.  And I was also so very curious!!  I wanted to know everything!!  What was I having?  When was my due date?  I couldn't wait to get all the details!

I called my OB's office the next day and told them I needed to come in to confirm a pregnancy.  I made them aware of the "special circumstance" and we scheduled our appointment for the following week. 

I couldn't wait to get to his office to see my baby on the ultrasound screen!  I was also looking forward to talking to his nurse... we had developed a bit of a friendship and I was excited to see the look on her face when she heard that we got pregnant on our own!  Naturally she as very happy for us!  She took my blood pressure and we talked for a bit and then we all sat and excitedly waited for my OB to walk in.  My husband and my baby girl were with me and we were all filled with anticipation of the "official" confirmation.  He walked in and as he turned on the machine, he asked how I was feeling and if I had felt any movement...?  Um... yes.  A lot.  His response?  Laughingly... "What am I going to do with you"?  He assumed, like I did, that I was far along, and in his world, that meant that I had missed out on all 1st trimester testing/screening.  I didn't care.  I just wanted to see my baby. 

And finally we did.  Oh my goodness...  there it was.  My little being, growing in my belly.  Thank goodness I wasn't going to miss another day of this little wonder growing inside me.  We asked if he could see the sex and he asked if we wanted to know.  We most certainly did.  It's a boy!!!!  A BOY!!!  We were having a boy!!!  We told our daughter she was going to be a big sister and that she was going to get a little brother.  It was such an incredible day.  To say the least. 

"Highly unlikely"...

It wasn't long after I began working, we're talking weeks, that I got sick at work.  It was completely reasonable to chalk it up to the fact that I waited too long to eat and just wasn't feeling well because it wasn't at all uncommon for that to happen to me.  It was a 1-time deal and I moved on.  

My work schedule and my home life were working out perfectly.  Well, as perfectly as possible when I had to spend 2 days/week away from my baby girl.  My husband and I were enjoying her so much.  With every new little thing she did we rejoiced.  I even thought to myself that I was ok having one baby and that she was just our little miracle.  People would often ask me if I was ready for another and my most common answer was, "I don't know...  I am just enjoying her so much", (most of the people who had asked me were customers at the store and had no idea of my past).  I loved going home after my long days at work to see that face light up when she saw me.  We would immediately embrace and she would lay on my lap to nurse.  I cherished those moments.  And at bed time my husband and I would give her a bath and then I would nurse her to sleep.  Most nights she slept in her own bed, but like clockwork, every morning, bright and early (around 5am) we would bring her to our bed to sleep with us.  We very much enjoyed co-sleeping, but she was such a great sleeper on her own we would only get mornings to cuddle.  

Everything was going so smoothly that after a couple months I was asked if it was possible to add a 3rd day to my work schedule.  They had offered me a full time, management position, but that much time away from my baby girl was just not something I could handle.  Especially since we were still nursing.  I told my boss when my daughter turned 2 I would maybe consider it then.  So instead I told them we could make a 3rd day work.  

I worked at a baby boutique...  we sold,  among other things, car seats, strollers, double strollers, and all things heavy.  We also had a flight of stairs to our stock room where I often lifted said heavy items up and down those stairs.  Never giving it a second thought. 

In June, I had plans to host/attend a "union" of several mommies I had become close friends with thru an online group and couldn't wait.  We spent a day picnic'ing , a day at the beach and one day at Disneyland.  All of our children were the same age and it was so nice to get out and have a great time.  Sure, I was tired, but I was chasing after a toddler.  Isn't that normal?  I did get sick one night after dinner, secretly, (one of my friends and her daughter was staying with me and I didn't want her to know) but just assumed it was something I ate.  Easily.  

It was around the middle of July when I started to feel...  well, really run down.  My boss caught me leaning on the desk in the office and asked if I was ok.  And then she asked if I was pregnant.  I laughed it off, telling her that I was probably just tired from having a long night or not taking my vitamins.  I actually felt disappointed in myself for being so out of shape.  I was always an active person, having done sports my whole life and working out was just something I had no problem doing...  I ran 2 marathons for crying out loud.  How on earth could I explain this out of breathe feeling I'd get from simply walking up a flight of stairs?!? I started going on daily walks to work up my endurance.

I began to experience an intense feeling of pressure in my lower abdomen and after mentioning it to my husband and sister I got the same question/concern... "are you by any chance... pregnant"?  My responses grew shorter - "NO.  I can't get pregnant".  "I am not pregnant".   I was so adamant about it because like before I would not allow myself to go there.  Not even for a moment.  The idea of getting the least bit excited about possibly being pregnant only to get a BFN would've destroyed me.  So, I steered clear of the idea.  No matter what anyone said to me.   There was always an explanation for everything I was feeling and after a few days the pressure just... went away.  

I did notice a slight weight gain of about 6lbs and at that point I got really down on myself.  I started to pay close(er) attention to what I was eating and even bought a few Lean Cuisines.  What on earth was going on, I thought to myself??  How am I gaining weight??  And a few times, at night, while I would be relaxing with my husband I would feel...  "something" going on in my belly.  At one point I actually opened my mouth and said (to my husband, in private), "either I am pregnant or something is really wrong with me".  Of course he grew concerned and asked that I go see my OB.  I told him no...  it was ridiculous to think I was pregnant and I quickly changed the subject.  But for once the thought actually stuck in my mind.  And the racing began...  "Could I possibly...  be pregnant?" 

August had rolled around and by mid month I was really freaking out.  By this time my weight gain was up to about 8lbs and I was feeling very emotional.  For so many reasons.  I had been dodging the same questions and concerns for 2 months now and I was finally growing tired of it.  I wished everyone would just stop.  Didn't they know how painful it was for me?  Didn't they realize that by asking me if I was pregnant they were getting me excited, only to be extremely disappointed later on?  No...  they had no clue.  And I didn't have the energy to explain it to them.

One night, at the end of August, I was laying in bed, reading a book when all of a sudden I felt the book just...  pop up.   Yep.  Some...thing kicked my book right up off of me.  Ok, that was it.  I decided to go out on my lunch break the next day to buy a pregnancy test.  It was Thursday, August 21, 2008 and I was about to go to sleep with the idea that maybe...  just maybe?  I mean... Highly unlikely...  doesn't mean im...possible...  does it?

Motherhood. The good, the bad and the... beautiful.

Ahhh, the joys of motherhood.  The absolute joys.  I say the good, the bad and the beautiful because the word, "ugly" has absolutely no place in this blog or in my descriptions of motherhood.  Nothing about being a mommy is ugly.  Sure, there are days where  I wanted to pull my hair out...  and I even made up a game with my daughter where I would fly her up in the sky above my heads and tell her she was going "out the window!"  Of course I said it in a happy cheery voice and she laughed.  :)  But no matter how many rough nights, teething spells, whiny baby moments we had, it all led to one thing...  me comforting my baby girl.  And that's what she needed.  Of course my husband did everything he could to comfort her and some nights in the beginning when she was extra upset or when nursing just wasn't helping her gassy belly he would stay up for hours holding her in a little football hold (her favorite position) while she slept.  He would do anything for his baby girl and seeing him with her just melted my heart. 

I was also very fortunate enough to have a group of other brand new mommy friends and we learned together and shared our experiences together.  Thankfully most of them shared the same values we had.  I had read several books on how to handle every scenario and I remember the moment when I decided that I just needed to put the books down and do what I felt was right for my baby.  And that meant never letting her cry-it-out and breastfeeding on demand.  That meant I would be attached to my baby girl and would forever be there when she needed me.  Both my husband and I were on board with being "Attached Parents".  We could never imagine sitting in the room next door, while she cried out to us.  It just seemed so cruel.  So we were at her bekkon call.  No matter what time of day, or night, it was.  

Breastfeeding was something that I never thought in a million years I would become so incredibly passionate about.  In fact, before I had my baby girl I knew that I would "try" to breastfeed, but I didn't think that it would be a long lasting relationship.  I recall a conversation I had with a fellow mommy friend, (who was already "in the know" about how incredibly good - the best - for baby and mommy breastfeeding is) and I told her casually that I would probably breastfeed for about 3 months or so and see what happened.  Her response to me was, "why only 3 months"?  And I didn't have an answer...  uh...  isn't that the "norm"?  And after my baby girl was born and our breastfeeding relationship began I couldn't ever imagine not nursing her to help satisfy any bit of hunger, soothing or bonding she needed.  I couldn't fathom the idea of not breastfeeding her or simply choosing not to.  And thankfully when I did have concerns, troubles or questions I knew enough to seek support and get it.  And I will forever be thankful for the months of support I was given.  

Soon we got the hang of it all and before we could blink months had gone by...  and then... a year.  Milestones had been reached and some we were still waiting on.  I was fortunate enough to be home with my baby, instead of having to go back to work, so we spent our days playing with our friends and enjoying each others company.  And my husband worked very close to home so he would visit us on his lunch breaks.  We settled in nicely to normal routines and we were always sure to follow her lead...  We were never worried about "schedules" and when you're breastfeeding, a schedule isn't something that can really be followed. Especially since she called the shots.  We often took naps together and night time cuddle time became our favorite time.  

Not long after she turned 1-year old we made the decision, as a family, that I would go back to work to start helping with the finances.  It was important to me to wait at least a year so our breastfeeding relationship wouldn't be interrupted.  And that 1st year was so extremely beneficial.  Of course, even after going back it was not interrupted and in fact, continued to thrive.  I knew that I needed to find a job where the company would not only allow me to work part time (2 days/week in the beginning), but would also allow me to let them know on a monthly basis the days I was available.  My mom planned on coming over 1 day/week and my husband would be home the 2nd day.  Daycare was not an option for us. 

I found the perfect part time job at a baby boutique.  I was definitely in my element.  :)  They hired me almost immediately and were more than happy to adjust their schedules and coordinate with me on a monthly basis.  I began working 2 days/week and after a couple months my husband and I talked and decided that I could work a 3rd day.  And between my husband and my mom, my baby girl was taken care of. 

And our life carried on...  day by day, week by week, month by month.  And we never considered ourselves perfect.  Just mommy and daddy.  And that was what we were happiest being.  

We talked about having another baby and most days I would remember our difficulties with getting pregnant and would just tell myself not to worry about it.  That if it was meant to be it would happen.  A part of me thought of how wonderful it would be to just wake up one day and be pregnant like I had dreamed about so many times before, but I knew that wasn't going to happen.  So I secretly resorted to the idea that our baby girl was it for us and we were just so damn lucky, so blessed to have her.  And with that we continued to enjoy every moment with her.  Every single moment. 

And then... We were 3.

My husband suited up in the typical hospital garb and they tried to tell me how the procedure was going to happen.  All I heard was, in about 20 minutes she'll be here.  Before they wheeled me into the operating room they handed me some stuff to drink that was supposed to help with acid reflux.  I suppose it did afterward, but initially it just made me puke.  ick!  

As they "prepped" me for surgery I tried my best to just talk to my husband and focus on the end game.  It was cold and I was shivering and I couldn't control my chattering teeth.  I had heard so many stories of women who said they could feel the incision and I was just hoping I wasn't going to be one of them.   My husband was sitting at my side and they let him bring in the video camera since my sister wasn't allowed in the room.  I wasn't sure what they would allow him to tape, but I was happy he had it with him.  There were about 4 Dr.'s working on me and my anesthesiologist had explained what drugs he was going to be giving me and how they would take affect soon.  They were all very very nice.  That's one of the many things I remember...  they all tried their best to comfort me.  

I could tell we were getting close and it wasn't long after when they began...  I didn't feel a thing.  And then I heard my OB telling my husband to get ready!  Get ready for what, I wondered??  Were they actually going to let him videotape the delivery?  And then they told him it was time and to get the camera!  OH MY GOSH, they did!  They let him video tape her being brought into this world. 

And in a few short moments I could hear my baby's cries.  Everybody told me she was here, but up until I heard those cries, I wasn't satisfied.  Her cries, her announcement to me that she was here, was the most magical sound I have ever heard in my life.  I immediately burst into tears and cries of joy.  They held her up so I could see her and oh my goodness.  She was absolutely beautiful.  Gorgeous.  God's perfect, most perfect creation.  The most perfect and wonderful and awesome thing that my husband and I had ever done.  They carried her over to the weighing table to get all of the pertinent information and all I could do was peek over to get glimpses of her as the Dr. and nurses went about their work.  My husband was able to walk over and videotape most of it.  They would call out her stats and tell me how beautiful she was and I just laid there... in total and complete awe of her existence.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, they wrapped her in a blanket, put her little cap on and brought her over to me.  My arms were so numb and I could barely lift them to hold her so the nurse laid her on my chest and lifted my arms to wrap them around her.  All I could do was stare at her.  I could hear my husbands sniffles as he sat next to me, video camera in hand, and at one point I whispered to him to help me.  I didn't feel sturdy enough to hold her on my own.  I did everything I could to just soak her in.  I could smell her and see her big beautiful dark eyes and somehow, in the midst of all my amazement at her sight I was able to speak a few words... "we waited so long for you".  I was elated.

It wasn't long after they took her to the nursery.  My husband had strict orders to stay with her and not leave her side for a moment.  And then... they were gone.  I was so full of emotions at that point I am pretty sure I was floating above the clouds.  They wheeled me into a room for recovery and the next thing I remember is waking up and seeing my husband sitting next to me.  It was 3 1/2 hours later.

"Is she ok"?  Were the first words out of my mouth and then, "where is she"?  My husband was very concerned about me and all I could do was wonder about my baby.  He told me that my family had all seen her and that at one point she grabbed onto his finger and wouldn't let go.  I was told that I couldn't be transferred until I was able to move my legs.  So I hugged my husband and told him to get back to our baby girl.  Oh my gosh, I tried with All. My. Might to move my legs and  finally, after about 30 minutes I moved my feet and yelled to the nurse that I was ready to be transferred.

They wheeled me into the next room and I, very impatiently waited for them to bring me my daughter.  The door opened and in walked my husband and then shortly there after...  they wheeled her in, in her little hospital crib.  It had been four hours since she was born and I was finally able to sit up and hold her properly in my arms.  I had no idea what this was going to feel like.  Nobody can ever fully explain to someone else how truly blissful it is to hold your brand new baby in your arms.  It is not a feeling that is really describable and yet I feel like I want to continue trying...  If you're a mom then you no doubt know exactly what I'm talking about.  I couldn't believe this perfect little being in my arms was mine.  My daughter.  My baby.  So tiny.  So innocent.  So precious.  Really...  just so perfect.

And we were a family.  It was the 3 of us, from there on out.  Our prayers had been answered and parenthood was ours.

To my baby girl...  We waited so long for you.   I love you to the moon.  And back.

The Induction.

We arrived at the hospital at 10pm sharp and began the admitting process.  I had previously turned in my admittance paperwork so the actual checking in didn't take long.  Everyone kept asking me, "why are we inducing"?  In my mind I thought, "shouldn't you know??"  But I guess they didn't all work for my OB so it was up to me to tell them what I was told earlier that day...  And I did my best, but couldn't relay the message well enough.  Whatever, it didn't matter.   They gave me my gown and I got in bed.  Another Dr. was going to come in to begin the induction process by administering the Cervidil so all we could do was wait.  And fill out all paperwork they put in front of me.  My sister was there, video camera in hand, to capture as much as she could.  I wanted it all on tape!  My whole family practically filled the waiting room...  they were all ready to camp out for as long was necessary to be there when my baby was born.  We were all very excited.  And impatient. 

Eventually the Dr. came in to insert the Cervidil...  Shortly after that my 1st Nurse came to check on us.  She was young and cheerful and very nice.  I tried to think positively that this labor was going to go how I always dreamed it would...  I pictured myself staring at my husband and pushing my baby out!  I had it all played out in my mind.  

First minutes went by...  then hours...  and then the next day.  My OB had come in several times to check on us and I wasn't making much progress.  It was disappointing, to say the least.  I wasn't going to get moved to a "Labor & Delivery" Room until I was at 3-4cm dilated so those were the numbers I was waiting to hear.  

By this time they had started the pitocin and tried to further the induction by inserting a Foley catheter and breaking my water.  I had opted to take a drug that was being offered by my nurse (she referred to herself as a "drug pusher"), called Fentanyl and had taken all they were allowed to give me.  The pain had gotten so intense, I was hardly able to handle it any longer.  I waited and waited as long as I could, but the contractions, made unbearable by the pitocin, were just getting stronger and stronger.  I opted for the epidural.  I was a basket case of emotions at that point.  And oh so very exhausted.  I tried to stop watching the clock, but it was difficult. 

It felt like an eternity I was waiting for the Anesthesiologist.  And then...  I was numb.  Too numb in fact.  I didn't like it.  No more being able to get up to go pee?  Oh man.  

Shortly after I received the epidural my OB told me I was at 4cm!!!  Hallelujah!!  Let's move to L&D, thank you very much!  I couldn't walk there myself, cause of the epidural, so they wheeled me in.  I felt so out of it.  I was well aware of what was going on around me, but the numbness was just too much.  My family had all come in to visit with us and a couple friends had come to visit.  I told them all that I was at 4cm and was hoping to have my baby soon!!!  This was all Saturday - mid morning.  

After a few more checks my OB had to sit down to talk to us about a few things...  It was around 1pm on Saturday afternoon and he told us that I wasn't progressing (stuck at 4cm) and my cervix was beginning to swell.  He was talking in a sympathetic tone and basically recommended that if after another half an hour I was still in the same scenario he wanted to perform a C-Section.  And then he asked me if that was ok.  I told him yes.  He was going to have some fluids put back into me to support my baby and he would be back in half an hour.  Up until this point I hadn't really considered the idea of me having a C-Section.  I just didn't think it was something I'd have to actually endure.  

I asked my sister (she was still videotaping) to go find my mom in the waiting room and ask her to come in.  When my mom came in we hugged and I just cried in her arms.  I really didn't know why I was crying...  Maybe it was because I was scared.  Maybe it was because I was excited.  Maybe it was because I was about to go in to have major surgery.  And maybe it was because I was finally going to meet my baby girl.  I actually said that out loud...  "I don't care anymore, I just. want. to. hold. my baby girl".  And that was how I truly felt.  I was just done...  done waiting.  And then my OB walked in and told us he wanted to go ahead and do the C-Section.  He sat down and asked if I was ok...  and I told him I was.  And then I told him that we were ready. 

40 Weeks.

It was Friday, March 23rd - My "official" due date - and we headed to my OB's office for our regularly scheduled visit.  My MIL had come into town and so she accompanied us to the office.  I was 40 weeks, exactly.  

We did the normal blood pressure check, etc. and I had casually mentioned that I was growing concerned at the lack of movement I was feeling the night before, (nights were my baby girls busiest - she was a mover and a shaker for sure!).  He checked on a few things and told me he wanted to put me on a Fetal Heart Monitor for a little bit...  I said ok.  Aside from it being normal to check my uterus, cervix and placenta during ultrasounds, I remembered how at previous appointments he was always sure to double and triple check my fluid levels and placenta placement because there was always and forever a concern about my vanishing twin.  I wasn't aware then of what I'm aware of now...  and of the potential things that could go wrong due to late term absorption (that's AbSORPtion, in case you may have read that wrong).  Which is what happened with us. 

After monitoring the baby and I for a period of time my OB came in and told us that he was concerned about my fluid levels and the slowing of baby movement and he thought it best to admit me that night for an induction, (He told us a few other things, but the truth is I just don't remember - the moment he mention induction it kind of all went blurry - and we agreed to go for it).  I didn't know any better and I was actually happy at the idea of scheduling an induction.  I just wanted to meet my baby.  And that was all I was thinking about.  Well, that and listening to my OB's recommendations.  He knew best, as far as I was concerned.

We left the office, went to lunch and then went home to get everything ready to come back to the hospital later that night.  He asked that we come back and check in at 10pm.  We had a light dinner and off to the hospital we went.  I had informed every member of my family and all my friends that we were off to have a baby!!!!!!!  I was anxious, excited, scared, ecstatic, all of the above.  I was so close to actually meeting and holding my baby...  It was all very surreal. 

Our Return To Normalcy.

We were given the results that our amnio came back "normal" and the excess levels of protein were indeed a result of the "vanishing twin"... not yet vanishing.  I gotta tell you...  My expectations were that the embryo would reabsorb quickly and I wouldn't have to worry about it again.  That didn't happen.  Clearly.  It wasn't a very pleasant reminder so I just tried my best to focus on my growing and developing baby. 

Since they had the amniotic fluid they went ahead and tested for any and all Chromosomal Abnormalities and fortunately they all came back negative.  Our baby was doing great and we were well on our way to continuing a happy and healthy pregnancy. Thank you, God. 

They were also able to 100% without a doubt confirm the sex of our baby...  And we wanted to know for sure!!  

We found out we were having a girl.  A teeny tiny baby girl was growing in my belly and we couldn't be happier.  With every movement, every kick, every roll I would rub my tummy and smile.  My husband and I talked to her, we took pictures of my growing belly and we even took some video of her moving.  We wanted to capture every moment.  

It got to the point where certain foods would make me sicker than others so I restricted my diet pretty much to a vegan one.  Cow's milk was proven to potentially cause sinus headaches for me and meat made me sick so giving it all up was no problem.  Any sickness I was feeling in the beginning was subsiding and I felt great.  Sure, I was tired...  sure, I was swollen...  sure, I was sick here and there.  But, I was pregnant.  And nothing was going to get me down about it.  NOTHING.  My body was home to a living, breathing little being...  a little being that we had prayed and hoped for and I welcomed any symptom that came my way.  Happily :) 

Here is the ultrasound picture of our baby girl from the day of our Amnio - 

 

Gorgeous, right?  We thought so.  :)

Our EDD (estimated due date) was March 23rd, 2007.  We continued to visit our OB on a regular basis and I was a good girl about taking my prenatal vitamins.   And after all of what we had been through, we were finally able to just sit back, relax and enjoy the ride.  

Alpha-Feto...whudda??

We had pretty much decided from the get go to have all recommended testing done throughout our pregnancy.  I felt I had set the bar for this to be a medically guided pregnancy thus far and just didn't feel right not doing every test they felt was necessary.  Did I have to allow all recommended testing to be done?  Absolutely not.  Did I know any better?  Absolutely not.  

Up until my 2nd trimester all testing was going well.  Blood tests came back good, tests that were meant to be negative were and screens showed us a very healthy growing baby.  

Throughout my 1st trimester and into my 2nd, I would, of course, get concerned when I heard what tests were being performed...  Tests to check for Cystic Fibrosis, Down Syndrome, Trisomy-21, Trisomy-18, etc.  They also performed and would perform what were called "structural ultrasounds" to check limb and spine development.  I was always given the reassurance that everything looked great.  Of course it didn't help that during my ultrasounds we could still see a teeny little empty sac...  just sitting there.  It took a very long time to "vanish".  That was unsettling.  

It came time for my OB's office to take blood to perform what is called the Alpha-Fetoprotein or AFP Blood Test.  Just like before I rolled up my sleeve, gave the necessary amount of blood to perform the lab tests and went about my day.   This test was not mandatory (none of them really were), but nonetheless I wasn't turning anything down that would continue to give me the reassurance that my baby was healthy.  

 I was at work when my OB called with the results.  Like every other time I was expecting to hear all good news.  Famous last expectations...  He started telling me that they found elevated levels of protein in my blood and that without further testing they were unable to pinpoint the reason for those levels.  And by further testing he wanted to perform an Amniocentesis or Amnio.  What?  But I'm only 29 years old...  I asked him what it could potentially mean and as he began to say those words my heart just sank.  Lower and lower...  The elevated levels could've very well been due to the Vanishing Twin, but he wanted to rule out 100% the idea of Spina bifida.  We needed to make sure the excess levels were not being released from a hole in my baby's spine.  Oh God...  

I lost it.  Completely.  What on earth was going on and why was this all happening?  My boss wasn't in the office so I picked up the phone to call him and with what little voice I had, I told him I needed to go home and that something might be wrong with my baby.  He is a daddy too and understood all too well what I was going thru, so he gave me a few words of encouragement and absolutely told me to go home and be with my family.   

From the car I called my husband and he immediately said he would come home and meet me there.  I also called my mom.  I could barely even talk.  Every emotion I had, literally, from day 1 of this whole journey and up until that very moment just hit me.  And hard. I cried my poor eyes out until I was swollen times 10.  Tears of pretty much any and every emotion.  I was letting it all out.  

I got home and let my love console me with everything that he could.  And finally when I was able to be composed enough to to have a conversation, I called my OB...  to schedule our Amnio.  I couldn't believe I was having that conversation.  There was no way I was going to get this far and let anything happen to my baby.  And yet, there I was, accepting to do procedure that has been known to cause miscarriages.  We made the appointment to go in for Genetic Counseling, (which my OB recommended we do, just in case the results were something we'd have to cope with) and then to have the Amnio performed.  I hung up the phone and the rest of that day was a total blur. 

The Invisible Twin...

For the most part I felt like I was having a "normal" pregnancy.  I welcomed every little symptom with open arms.  A little nausea here, a little tiredness there.  I took them all with pride.  

We went back for our 2nd ultrasound on August 8, 2006.  During the ultrasound my OB casually informed us "there were 2, but now, there is only 1".  I didn't know what to make of it...  What happened to my baby?  My OB explained to us that we had what is commonly referred to as a Vanishing Twin. Of course my thoughts went to, "What did I do wrong?"  Of course he told me it wasn't anything I did.  The 2nd embryo just didn't develop past those 1st few weeks and I was reassured that still had one very healthy developing embryo.  The vanished twin would supposedly "disappear" and most likely reabsorb back into my body.  Oh thank goodness I wasn't going to bleed or miscarry it.  That was my main fear.

I was a little sad at first...  And I did cry a bit.  I had, had a beautiful dream where I was holding a baby boy in my arms and it was very peaceful.  I took that as a sign that the twin was a boy and my dream was God's way of letting me say good bye.  And I felt at peace.  I went home celebrating my healthy developing baby.  My strong survivor.  

TWINS?

Haha, well...  

My pregnancy was confirmed by my OB's office the following Thursday and my 1st appointment/ultrasound was scheduled for Friday, the  21st of July.  I was exactly 5 weeks pregnant.  I was so excited for my appointment that I had to go pee twice before!  It was actually the 1st and only time I pee'd so much before the appointment that I wasn't able to "go in a cup" when they needed me to!  It wasn't a big deal, just funny!  :)  Before my OB came in to perform the ultrasound his nurse explained to me what would happen at each appt.  I was loving every word I was hearing.  Taking it all in.  Smiling the whole way... You'll need me to pee in a cup every appointment?  No problem.  Take my blood?  It's yours.  Blood pressure?  Sure! What else?  Whatever it is, I ain't got no problem.  I'm pregnant.  :)

His nurse finished up and after taking my blood pressure told me my OB would be right in...  I couldn't wait to see him and to thank him.  

When he walked in he said, "I told you so"!  And he did...  and we couldn't be happier!  Then he said...  "and now the question is, how many?"  That was actually the question on a lot of my family members minds.  It is typical with insemination or in vitro that a multiple pregnancy would result so we knew there was a potential. He did say it would be too early to know for sure, but we were still surprised and a wee bit concerned when after looking at the ultrasound we saw THEM. Yep...  two very small little black dots on the screen.  One bigger than the other.  My OB saw them, but kept looking around...  was he actually looking for a 3rd??  eek!   And then he told us it looked like it might be twins.  They both measured at 5 weeks, within a day of each other, but it was too early to tell for sure.

We headed into my OB's office to go over the "testing and appointment schedule" and he gave us a bunch of information explaining what I could/shouldn't eat, etc.  We made our next appt. for August 8th and we were on our way.  I still felt like I was floating.  Cloud 9 was mine.  Finally.

The Visual.

As of Sunday morning, July 16th I had 3 positive pregnancy tests...

and I couldn't help but take a picture -

Aren't they pretty?  :)

 

We found out we were pregnant just days before our 3-year wedding anniversary.  

Almost exactly 2 years from the date we officially began trying to conceive.

A very very happy anniversary to us.  :)

The Results.

Ready I was and when I glanced over at the test I couldn't help but do a double take... 

What?!?  Doth my eyes deceive me?  Is it possible?  Is it real?  I saw two lines.  Not one...  two very visible lines.  I had to stop and take a moment to figure out how to process what was actually happening.  What I had in front of me was a sight I had been dreaming about seeing for a very very long time.  Do I actually say it out loud now?  Am I aloud to finally say those words I've been dying to say?  I wasn't prepared for how I was going to tell my husband. I gave up on having that "moment" of walking into the room where he was sitting and telling him the wonderful news.  And here I was.  I was there.  At that moment.  I had my very 1st positive pregnancy test ever.  I....  I... I'm...  I'm...  p...re...g...nant.  And I said it quietly to myself before walking out to tell my husband.  I wanted him to be the 1st to know. 

I walked out of the bathroom and set the test stick on the sink behind the faucet so I could walk over to get my husband.  He was in his parents room (adjoining room) and his sister was in their bathroom.  At the very moment I walked over and told my husband I needed to talk to him, my SIL walked out of the bathroom saying she needed soap to wash her hands...  so she started walking over to our bathroom!  It was quite comical at that point and I rushed past her to grab the test to show him first.  Of course she saw me grab it and as she excitedly said, "Are you????"  I stood in front of him with my back to my SIL and held up the test.  He saw it and said, "what does it mean!?!?!??!"   I told him to read it...  And with that his face lit up and he yelled, "yay!"  We just hugged and he held me so tight.  We ran into the room next door to tell his parents.  His mom hugged me and at that point I still felt like I was in so much shock I couldn't even cry.  I just had so many thoughts running thru my mind...  so many wonderful, joyous, loving thoughts.  With this amazing news we headed out for a fabulous dinner.  Everything from here on out was fabulous.  No matter what.  Why?  Because...  I was pregnant.  I was finally pregnant. 

I felt like I was floating on clouds...  My face must have had a permanent smile on it cause my cheeks started to get sore.   After dinner we went back to the hotel and I took another test, just for fun (can you imagine?) and once again those magical little lines appeared.  Almost immediately.

By total coincidence my sister and niece were in Vegas as well so naturally I had to call them to tell them to come visit us and fast!!!  While I waited for them I called my mom and my other sister to share with them the amazing news.  When they arrived I showed them the test and we all hugged.  Happiness was in abundance, all around.  Seeing my family so happy and hearing their excitement only made my heart warmer.  I couldn't stop touching my belly.

That day/evening was one of the absolute best of my life.  I was carrying my husbands baby in my belly.  I was pregnant.  And I went to bed that evening with the same big fat smile on my face.  Cheeks sore n' all.  

The Morning After.

Saturday, July 15th, 2006...  The day after I was supposed to start my period.  This was the 1st time I had gone a day past my supposed start date and had not taken an hpt.  I just didn't think I could do it...  So I let Friday pass me by without taking a test.  

I woke up Saturday morning and went to the bathroom.  NOTHING.  No period and no signs of it to come.  I got up and we all got ready for the day.  I didn't care about what plans we had.  There was only one thing on my mind. 

Throughout the day I found myself having to pee frequently...  I began to try my best to not even think about it.  I couldn't let myself.  Things were starting to actually look like maybe something might be up...  and that is the closest I came to the thought of actually being pregnant in 2 years.  I wasn't about to let myself immediately believe it, only to be incredibly disappointed moments later. 

Evening rolled around and we all decided to go back to the hotel to get ready for dinner.  I had a moment to myself while my husband and IL's were getting ready.  I felt the urge to pee, again, and by that point I was physically unable to wait any longer.  I had to know.  I secretly grabbed a test and went to the bathroom...  this was always a moment I was both excited about and dreaded.  All the "what ifs" crowded my mind.  I pee'd on the stick, set it down and refused to look at it.  I sat up to get dressed, only seconds later, and couldn't help but glance over. The moment of truth was upon me and once again I had to decide if I was ready for the results. 

TGIF?

I woke up Friday morning and by habit/instinct immediately felt my breasts to check for soreness and tenderness...  ... ...  it was pretty much gone.  Since that was always a negative sign I started to feel really down.  I knew I had to get up and get ready for the day, but really just wanted to stay in bed.  And wait for my period to come.  

My in-laws, husband and I decided we should all take a walk to another hotel/casino and before we left I hit up the bathroom.  Without going into TMI, I saw slight signs of my period coming and felt my heart sink.  I walked out of the bathroom, caught up with my husband and told him I was pretty sure I wasn't pregnant.  We were walking behind m in-laws and I didn't want them to hear anything so I just told him to keep it quiet and let's just go about our day.  I didn't want to be a downer and I really didn't want to talk about it.  Again.  And I was trying to be strong.  

We arrived at another casino and my FIL (father-in-law), SIL (sister-in-law) and I sat down at a Caribbean Stud Table.  After a short while I felt the urge to pee, again...  This time there were no signs of my period.  "Hmmm... No, don't go there, Anita!  Don't think you're pregnant for one second cause then you'll get disappointed!"  I did feel a bit better though.  Secretly. 

We went about the rest of our day and my MIL (mother-in-law), SIL and I walked past a bunch of people playing Bingo and thought it would be fun to play, so we made plans to go the next day.  

I went the entire day without starting my period.  The one thing I could always count on was me being "regular" and always starting when I was "supposed" to...  Was I going to allow myself to be positive?  Could I let myself think that maybe, I might be pregnant?  

One thing was sure...  I went to bed Friday night not as afraid to wake up the next day.  For me, that was enough positivity for one day.  Enough I would allow, anyhoo. 

Vegas.

Ahhhh Vegas...  My husband and I spent so much time there and had built so many memories there.  The 1st half of our honeymoon was in Vegas and we had traveled there annually for our birthdays.  This time, my in-laws decided they wanted to take us all to Vegas for a family vacation.  Vegas?  With the family?  Let's go!  It just so happened that this particular trip was planned around our insemination...  and we would be there for the last few days of our 2WW.  And we would be there the day I was supposed to start my period.  To be completely honest I was actually a little worried about going this time.  In my mind I didn't want anything "bad" to happen in a place where I had so many happy memories.  I couldn't help but wonder how incredibly upset, sad and depressed I would be if I started my period in a place where celebration was expected.  I basically what if'd myself like crazy.  blah.

After the insemination my husband and I went to lunch and spent the evening with our friends, the ones who had helped us thru our false pregnancy test the month before.  All I could do was focus on how much "different" I felt this time.  I couldn't tell what that meant so I didn't try to over analyze it...  obviously that wasn't easy.

We left for Vegas on July 10th and I was supposed to start my period on Friday, July 14th.  To keep with the optimistic view I was trying desperately to hold onto, I packed 3 hpt's to take with us.  I felt better having them on me, rather than going to buy one when we arrived.  The week of the 10th, the week we left for Vegas, my breasts were so sore and painful.  Again, a bad sign as far as I was concerned.  

It was no secret that this was one of the most important weeks of our lives and when Thursday, the 13th rolled around it was clear I was nervous.  And distracted.  I wound up planning a wonderful day of relaxation and health with my sister-in-law.  We headed out Thursday morning for a 7am Sunrise Yoga class.  The instructor of our class was 7-months pregnant...  a good sign?!?  After our invigorating and wonderful yoga class I decided to follow my sister-in-law's lead and treated myself to a massage.  We had some time before our massages so we sat and had some tea and then decided to get in a quick 20-minute walking work-out on the treadmills.  The massage was the icing on the cake and I was feeling pretty relaxed.  My mind set had calmed and I was ready to go about the rest of our day.  We spent some time in the steam room and whirlpools, optimistically I only put my feet in, and then indulged in a delicious and  healthy lunch.  To keep with the tone of our morning we decided to attend a lecture on healthy eating habits and how to stay healthy when going out to eat.   Why not, right? 

Aside from our amazingly relaxing morning and afternoon and the fact that I was attempting to not drown my thoughts in what was potentially going to happen the next day, I did have a moment of reality and told my sister-in-law that I should go buy tampons.  I hadn't packed any because before we left for our trip I tried to buy some and after going to three different stores and coming up empty handed, (they were all out!) I gave up.  That was something that had never happened to me.  Another good sign?  Maybe?!?  Sooo...  off to Walgreen's or some local drug store we went and you're never gonna guess.  Yep, they were out too!  What was going on???  How is it possible that four drug stores who always carry my tampons were out?  I took that as a good sign and did not go anywhere else to try to find them. 

Thursday night was here and it was only a matter of time before I would have to go to bed and wake up to face Friday, the 14th.  What was I in for?  Only time would tell...

Round 2.

Round 2...

Since I started my period on a Sunday, I had to wait til Monday to call my OB.  When I spoke with him he immediately called in another prescription of Clomid for me to begin taking on Tuesday, day 3.  He asked that we come in to see him on the following Thursday (June 29th-day 12) to do the ultrasound.  I wound up taking the entire day off from work because I also had an appt. to see my allergist (both my allergist and my OB work out of the same building) that same day.  It was a total coincidence that I scheduled those appts. on the same day - they didn't have anything to do with one another.  Anyway... 

At our appt. and during our ultrasound the power in the office went out.  It was very weird.  And one thing you should all know about me is that I believe I have a spiritual connection with "the other side".  I also believe that I have my very own ghost who follows me around.  Sooooo, when that happened I took it as a sign, a good sign, that my ghost was there and talking to me.  Telling me that everything would work out.  (I'll save the "ghost" story for another blog - ;)

My OB rebooted the ultrasound machine once the power "surge" was over and he proceeded to tell us what he saw.  He said that this time he saw TWO follicles, measuring at 18.9 and 19.5mm.  He then determined that my date of ovulation would most likely be on Friday (the next day) so we would be coming back to his office, rather than the Center, for our insemination.  While I wasn't concerned about going back to the Nurse Practitioner at SCRC, I was relieved to hear that my OB would be the one doing the procedure.

He told us that his nurse would be coming in shortly to administer my HCG injection and then asked us back to his office to discuss how it would work this time around.  He told us that we would have to go to SCRC first where they would perform the "semen wash" and then we had to...  eek...  drive back to his office for the insemination!  Whaaaaaat???  I felt like I was in a movie and would be one of those women sitting with "sperm" in her hand and trying desperately not to spill it!  I know that sounds gross, but it was all I could think about!!!  That is almost impossible to do, btw, but still...  nerve wrecking!!  

We arrived at the Center Friday morning, bright and early.  It took a good hour or so and then...  we were off.  On our way to my OB's office.   I was sitting in the car, looking over at my husband, glaring at him as he drove.  Every bump, every turn, every light...  It was the safest he has ever driven.  To this day.  :)  

When we finally (it was only a 15 or so minute drive, but it felt like forever!) arrived at my OB's office his nurse called us in immediately.  If y'all want to be called in right away without ever having to wait, get inseminated!  Ok, so that was my attempt at some infertility humor...  I told you all to bear with me, didn't I?  :)
My OB came into the exam room and performed another ultrasound, just to reassure us all.  His exact words were, "yep, you're going to ovulate today".  He was very optimistic, which in turn led us to be very optimistic.  

And there we were...  My husband at my side, holding my hand, and my OB performing the insemination.  Again, I was instructed to "lay down for 5 minutes" before getting up.  He then gave us one last wishful thought as he left by saying, "I'll see you in 2 weeks!"  I could only hope...!