So I’ve had a lot of new thoughts over the last 14 or so weeks, ones that I haven’t really been able to put into any sort of cohesive post. Mostly they center around the issue of infertility and how being pregnant hasn’t really changed anything for me. I think the only way I can make some of this make sense is in a little Q&A post. By the way, I didn’t make these questions up.

So I guess the doctors were wrong about you being infertile!
No, not at all. Our doctor explained to us exactly what the problem was, explained why conception was going to be nearly impossible for us. It’s not like he just sat us down and said, “You’re infertile. I recommend spending $20,000 on InVitro Fertilization. Sign here.”. It was a definitive diagnosis, one that we have chosen to keep to ourselves. He did also say that he “never says never”, and that there was, in his 25 years of fertility practice, one couple with our diagnosis who conceived naturally. As you might imagine, we were not very optimistic about our odds, did not want to wait around for our 1 in 10,000 chance, and decided to be proactive in our family-building journey (Hey look! I haven’t used that word in a while – did you miss it?).

So I guess you aren’t infertile anymore!
Well, according to RESOLVE, the definition of infertility is:
Infertility is defined as the inability to conceive or carry a pregnancy to term after 12 months of trying to conceive.  If you are over the age of 35, the time of trying to conceive is reduced to 6 months.  It is important to see a specialist, or a Reproductive Endocrinologist, or in some cases your OB/Gyn or urologist for a complete fertility work-up and diagnosis.

So I suppose to most people, our infertility lives definitively in the past. It’s over and done with now that we are pregnant. But here’s the thing. When and if we decide to try for child #2, we will be right back where we started 18 months ago. Will we catch another 1 in 10,000 break? Will lightning strike the same spot twice? Maybe. Our problem has not been solved and our chances have not increased just because the miraculous happened.

And let me just take a tangent here and comment on that last sentence in the infertility diagnosis above. If you are experiencing any kind of delay in your conception plan, don’t hesitate to step it up and go straight to a fertility specialist. I read a LOT of infertility blogs, where the common trend is to map out your infertility journey in a cute little time line in your right hand column. Sometimes I read these time lines and think to myself, what the hell were you doing for those three years at your OB office? Is it standard practice to just hand out Clomid like candy before ever doing an HSG or basic bloodwork? I really do love doctors and know that they are trying to make the best decisions for their patients. But seriously, four years into your conception journey, when you finally get to see the RE, no wonder you are an emotional, financial, and sexual mess. Who wouldn’t be?!
**Whew, rant over ***

So I guess God wasn’t really telling you to adopt.
I realize all of this “God told me to adopt” business makes me sound like one of those misled cult leaders. Perhaps God gave us that overwhelming directive in order to accomplish other things. To help us give up ourselves. To help us let go and trust Him. To open our hearts for adoption some day. I don’t know what the future holds for our family. All I know is that God planted the seed of adoption deep in our hearts and it has taken root.

So I guess you don’t resent other pregnant people now.
I definitely wish that were the case. God is slowly chipping away at my big ole’ block of bitterness, but it’s a work in progress. Sometimes, when someone who doesn’t know our story tells me “Congratulations!”, I want to blurt out, “You have NO idea!” On one hand I really just wish things would be as easy for us as they are for others. But on the other hand, I really don’t regret the time we spent learning the lessons we did. And sometimes I feel sorry for the people who won’t have the chance to learn those same lessons. More often than not, when I see a pregnant person or hear another pregnancy announcement, I just think to myself, “You probably have no idea what a blessing that is”. I suppose that is kind of conceited. I’m working on it.

Alright, that’s all I have for now. I am heading out to Iowa City on Friday to visit my Grandmother in the hospital. I am sure I will have lots of thoughts about that when I return.

Today was my second OB appointment. Matt will mostly opt out of the routine exams since he is such a rockstar at work and doesn’t really want to see some guy take a look up my hoo hoo. Just kidding about the rockstar part. Kind of. Anyway, today I got to hear the heartbeat! There was a lot of static but we eventually did zero in on the 160 bpm swoosh swoosh swoosh. I got the requisition for the “big” ultrasound, to be scheduled at the end of May. I can’t wait to find out the gender! I think about it like 10 times a day. I also declined the risk screenings, it just didn’t make sense to me.

***Update***
Just so you don’t think Matt’s on his way to being a deadbeat dad, he did offer to attend today’s appointment with me. I just didn’t feel like I needed him there. He was there for the first 8-week appointment, where we got to see the heartbeat. To me, seeing the heartbeat was far more emotional than hearing it. Hearing it was cool, but not the spiritual experience some people have described. That’s just me. And Matt will definitely be attending the big ultrasound and is happy to be there any time I want him. He was there for the fertility consults, when I got basted like a turkey, and that one time I went to see a surgical oncologist (not related, everything was fine!). If there is one thing about parenting that is becoming clear already, it’s that you can never do it right, can you?
****

Anyway, I am a little late on this, but fellow infertility blogger Mel has this interesting project centered around the question of “What IF?” (double meaning with the IF standing for Infertility, also referencing her book entitled Navigating the Land of IF). The idea is to think about what your What Ifs are. So I thought I would share some of mine with you. A lot of these have changed for me in the last 13 weeks now that our situation is a little different than we thought it would be. I think for the most part, they are now more complicated.

What if I this is the only time I will ever be pregnant? What if that makes me sad? What if I love having a biological child so much that I will be afraid to adopt in the future? If we do adopt in the future, what if my adopted child feels less special than my biological child? What if all my friends and family are secretly thinking that it’s better we are having a biological child rather than adopting? What if people think I am happier to be pregnant than adopting? What if I am happy only having one child? What if being a biological mother changes my attitude towards open adoption? What if I want to adopt internationally? What if having a child affects our ability afford to adopt in the future?

I know that I don’t need to worry about any of this now, and I know that ultimately, God will be there to help us figure things out. But those are my what ifs for right now.

I do not shop. I consider the process to be altogether barbaric and avoid it at all costs (I will venture out for clothing, but I really have to be in the mood). If something can be bought online, it is. Last week I bought a cheese grater on Amazon, and had a few cans of dog food in my cart before I realized they didn’t qualify for free shipping. I draw the line at paying for shipping. Considering I work at home, you might wonder why I don’t relish the opportunity to get out of the house. It’s probably because I’m a hermit in training, working on my cloistering skills. I think adding a baby to the mix is going to be just what I need.

Anyway, the last week has brought a flurry of deliveries to our door. For some reason, we needed to buy a lot of things all of a sudden. When I returned from my run the other day, I spotted a FedEx delivery note on the door. I was curious, but figured Matt had just ordered another camera lens or cheese grater. You know, the usual.

But imagine my surprise when I opened the package to find this:

My grandparents sent us a little baby gift! This adorable bear and blanket are the first meant-for-baby gifts. I almost died from the cuteness.  I let myself imagine wrapping that baby in the blanket and placing the bear in the crib. It was so real. This will be their first great-grandchild, so they are pretty excited. I am so happy that this baby will get to know it’s great-grandparents. Thanks Grandma and Grandpa!

And last week, my friend Vicki gave me these:

Prayer cards and charm of Saint Gerard, the patron saint of Motherhood. Now, I am not Catholic, but I like praying. This particular passage from the prayer caught me:

“Preserve me from danger and from excessive pains accompanying childbirth, and shield the child which I now carry, that it may see the light of day and receive the lustral waters of baptism, through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

We have received many other cards and notes since our announcement. It is incredible to see how happy and excited people are for this baby’s arrival. I know there are blankets being knit, bibs and quilts being sewn, and meals being planned (already!). It really blows us away to see such love around us. Thanks everyone!

Since that last post was long enough, I didn’t want to bore you with even more details. Details, apparently, people are asking about. So here’s a little random posty-post to tie up some loose ends.

1. How is your grandmother? The day her amputation was originally scheduled, she had a mini-stroke and was too unstable for the doctors to feel comfortable proceeding. She had a few more heart episodes that further delayed the surgery. She was finally stable enough on Thursday for them to do the surgery. She is recovering as best she can, and my dad and aunt will be returning to their homes today and tomorrow. She has a long road ahead of her, so keep praying.
2. How are you feeling? Not bad! Weeks 5-10 were a little rough – nausea and constant, gripping hunger are a weird combo. I spent the last year working really hard to lose 25 pounds, so the imminent weight gain has me nervous. But both the nausea and hunger have subsided a bit, and I feel like I am back on nutritional track. I had been training for a half-marathon in May, and that just isn’t going to happen. I am lucky if I can muster a 2 or 3 mile run a few days a week. Walking, hiking, and gardening still feel good though. And I can’t wait to parade my giant bump around the public pool in a few months! But overall, I feel like every time I have some pregnancy discomfort, it is just a little reminder of how blessed I am. How can you complain about a blessing?
3. When are you actually due? October 29.
4. Is yours a high-risk pregnancy? Nope. Everything is totally fine and normal.
5. Do your pants still fit? Nope. Not even close. Yesterday I went out and bought a pair of maternity pants with the panel. On the rack, they make me cringe. But damn ladies, you weren’t kidding. Those things are AWESOME.
6. Do you have any cravings? Only for wine and sushi! You always want what you can’t have! We went out on Saturday night and found me some vegan Maki and Matt got me some O’Douls last night. Both were sublime experiences. Before you poo-poo the O’Douls, keep in mind I had just spent 4 hours gardening. It tasted so good.
7. What kind of OB/midwife/birth are you aiming for? We literally picked an OB that was covered under our insurance and close by, and decided if we liked him, we would keep him. We did and we will. We will deliver in a hospital. No doula, no midwife, no birthing center. I want technology and drugs and surgeons nearby. It probably didn’t help that I am currently reading Midwives right now. Fiction or not, that books scares the pants off me. Kind of like giving birth does…
8. Are you going to find out the gender? YES YES YES. We will tell you as soon as we know. But we aren’t telling you the name. I think we are each hoping for our respective genders, but will be happy either way.
9. Are you going to keep working? Yes. The goal is to find a part-time care situation that will allow me a few days a week of uninterrupted work. Beyond that, I will snatch some time elsewhere and on the weekend. I have already started doing some research and it scares me a little. More on that later.

Alright, anything else y’all want to know?

So a few weeks ago, the agency had the first of it’s home-study preparation classes, and we weren’t there.

Back in September, when we were meeting with Dr. Awesome for our diagnostic follow-up, he said that in his 25 years of fertility practice, he has seen one couple with our situation conceive naturally.

Well, apparently now there are two. Internet, I am 11 weeks pregnant.

A couple months ago, after a hard day, I sent Matt to the store for a bottle of wine and a pregnancy test. I had been eyeing my calendar for a week, wondering where my period was, but wasn’t really too concerned since I couldn’t really remember when my last one was. I stopped caring when I found out it was useless. We also never went back on birth control, since there’s no point when you’re infertile! Right?!

Anyway, Matt came home and poured two glasses of wine and I ran downstairs real quick, yelling, “let me just go take this negative pregnancy test!” I peed on the stick for the umpteenth time. But this time, it turned positive. Immediately. I started shaking, walked slowly upstairs, looked Matt in the eye, and said, “It’s never been positive before.” I started crying because I was so mad. It was obviously a false positive.  We sat at dinner in silence and Matt drank both glasses of wine.

The next morning I used the other test. Still positive. I went to the doctor to confirm. The nurse looked at my quizzically. Yes, I said, I was just here for an adoption physical. Today I am here for a pregnancy test. “At least now you don’t have to pay all that money for someone else’s baby!” the nurse said.

I wish I was making this stuff up, people.

I insisted on the blood test, because obviously they did the urine test wrong. Or you know what? I probably just have an hCG-secreting tumor taking up residence in my uterus. One that causes nausea, fatigue, extreme hunger, and tight waistbands. Right?

The doctor told me to go home, make an appointment with an OB and start taking prenatal vitamins (go ahead and judge me now for not taking them three months prior to conception – I’ll wait). I dutifully followed instructions and went about the next several weeks waiting for my period.

The next month of waiting for that OB appointment was brutal. I will admit we were not immediately excited. It’s hard to be excited about something you don’t really believe is true. If this had happened a year ago, maybe even 4 months ago, I would have experienced your typical pregnancy excitement. But we had already gone so far down a different road, we found it difficult to turn around and head in a totally different direction. We had so much time and energy invested in adoption. We were preparing ourselves for being an adoptive, and possibly transracial family.

The first few weeks after discovering the news were like this: We had been stranded on an island for a year and a half. At first, it was awful, as we dealt with sunburn, loneliness, and mango shortages. But then, we slowly learned to adapt to our new life, realizing we would be there for a while. We made peace with our island and grew to love mangos. We even discovered that a short swim away were other people, stranded on other islands. We would occasionally visit their islands, spend the afternoon commiserating about sunburns and mangos, but at the end of the day, we had to go back to our own islands.

Then one day, out of the blue, a ship sails by to take us back to the mainland. To rescue us. But only us. We are of course ecstatic. But once we get to the mainland, we discover it is a place without wine, sushi, deli meat, soft cheese, or motorcycle rides. We miss our friends. And the undeniable truth is that we are different people than we were before getting stranded. Our time on the island has changed us. It was our home. Being on the mainland doesn’t just erase the pain, loneliness, and grief we felt while there.

Once we saw that tiny heartbeat on the ultrasound, once we realized everything was OK and my stomach started popping, it sunk in. We let ourselves be as happy as we wanted to be for the past year and a half. We are totally ecstatic to be pregnant. What has happened is nothing short of a God-sent miracle. It amazes us every day. We are totally baffled why God choose to send us this gift, and our gratitude runs deep. But there are many days when I feel like other people would have been better served by this miracle. We were doing just fine on the island. We had finally come to a place where we had let go of what we wanted and were accepting what we thought God wanted for our lives. And it felt really good. And my excitement now is no greater than if we had gotten a call about a potential birth family match.

So where does that leave this blog? I am not really sure. Making this a place to post baby bump photos and whine about pregnancy symptoms seems sort of weird. And truthfully, our feelings about adoption haven’t changed. We actually felt a bit of loss when we had to temporarily close the adoption door. I was sad when the agency sent back our packet of paperwork. We still hope to adopt one day. We consider the process to be “on hold”.

So I guess just stay tuned while we wait for our little Halloween baby.

Earlier this week we got news that my grandmother had fallen and broken her leg. They weren’t sure that they would be able to set it, due to her overall health. Yesterday we got word that they will have to amputate the leg. The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. The doctors are saying there is a 50/50 chance she will make it through the surgery. I feel like neither outcome is positive. She is alone and far away from family and that is causing some stress for everyone. For those of you who pray, please pray for Granny. For her peace, for her healing, and that she would know Him.

I know I have been kind of MIA around here in the past weeks. We have some big progress and updates to share, but it will have to wait for next week.