Thursday, October 18, 2018

Baby Boy #2

I haven't really talked about this pregnancy much even within close circles. It started off really confusing and stressful. It came at an ironic time too. We had just talked the night before I took a pregnancy test about seeing a fertility specialist. My cycle had been irregular for months (it had never gotten back to normal since having Lyra) and I was getting frustrated not knowing when or if to take a pregnancy test. I had a big bulk amazon pack I'd been taking for the last year and had decided to stop having them in the house for awhile. After two months of not taking any, I ordered more and had forgotten I had when it was delivered. I was watching a friend's kids and decided to just take one because that's all I ever do with my life. I threw it in the trash once I saw it was negative. While washing my hands, I glanced indifferently over at the trash. I wasn't angry or bitter that it was negative, I just knew to expect it by this point. Two dark lines were clearly showing up on the test in the trash. I took it out and stared at it for a moment. All the kids exploded outside the door and I went to put out the fire. With both Lyra and Rowan, I remember crying with joy and being overwhelmed with happiness when I first saw the positive. This time, I felt none of that. I just felt confused. I had just got out all my feelings about not being pregnant and now I was. I wasn't bursting to tell people like I had before. I wasn't even sure if I was going to tell Sel because we were seeing things so differently already about whether to seek extra help to get pregnant. 

The next week was miserable. I got an infection in my finger that required a month of antibiotics (and I'm allergic to the only100% safe antibiotic to take while pregnant), a good stretch of high fevers, and  I felt legitimately afraid I might die. I'm a natural worrier, but I had looked up stuff online about the way my infection was spreading and everyone in the medical field I talked to would creep me out by saying "That's really scary. Get to the E.R." I was worried and being excited about being pregnant was low on my list. I knew if the baby did make it, it could have complications from the medicine I was taking, my infection, the high fever. It was terrible. 

I had called my OB office a few days after finding out and my last period would have placed me about 8 weeks pregnant when I took the test. After my infection quieted down, I went in for my first ultrasound. It was just a black circle with no heartbeat. The technician kept asking me over and over again when my last period was then getting quiet. I told her things had been irregular and I'd told them I had no idea how far along I was. She finally stopped doing the ultrasound and told me not to get my hopes up. My OB gave me a similar sentiment, dating me about 6 weeks along and sent me home for a month to play the mental game of "Is this an alive baby or a blighted ovum? Am I going to miscarry today?" Every symptom I had of nausea could easily mean I just had a blighted ovum since your HCG still rises, but your baby isn't growing. With our other two, I would chatter endlessly about the future and planning for the next few months before their arrival. This time, I had to preface every comment about the future with "If this is actually a baby..." It was a month of sickly-tinged agony. 

When I went back in a month later, my friend who I had told about the situation sweetly watched my kids in case it went poorly. I cried in the bathroom before the ultrasound praying that I would have the strength to accept whatever outcome. At least I would be able to move past this in-between stage and either mourn or celebrate. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw our little baby wiggling around with a strong heartbeat. He/She was doing crunches which Sel and I agreed is going to be vital to it's survival with Lyra as an older sister. I was elated. I texted Sel saying the baby was a baby and alive and well. I was SO happy! As the day passed, the happiness was still there, but it wasn't as marked still as our other two had been. The feelings from the last year and the last few weeks hung over me. I felt better talking about it a little bit over the next month, but still didn't want to tell many people.

 My SIL had done this mail order blood test with their fourth and I had decided when I found out I was pregnant to take the same thing. You have to be 9 weeks to send it in and I took it as soon as I reached that mark. It was a gory mess. You have to prick your finger and massage the blood into a vial. Blood spurted everywhere but in the vial. I kept having to prick my finger and just couldn't get in the direction it needed to go. It can be easily contaminated by anyone with a Y chromosome being around and Rowan kept trying to be by me. When he saw the blood, he wanted to give me a hug. "Here mom! It's okay! I'll get you a bandaid!" Haha it was a disaster. I got the results by the end of the week and it said BOY! We told both of our families and I was thrilled! I then started looking up online about whether other people had accurate results. Turns out, most reported about a 50% correct rate...which is the same as guessing. They return your money if it's wrong, but they were very much not acclaimed as being right. Either they guessed right or they are what they say they are! We are thrilled to have another baby boy 💙 I would have been happy with either one and feel so grateful for this seeet little guy!

Weeks 8-13 were full of constant nausea. I still feel lucky in my pregnancies since I'm not that death sick some poor woman are. I just feel irritable about eating. I would make a big fuss about wanting some type of food and then as soon as it was prepared or in our house, I would be repulsed by it. We had a lot of food go to waste that month. I had lost about 10 pounds with my first two babies in the first trimester, but I only lost about 5 lbs this time (and I needed that -10lb buffer more this time ;) I've gotten so good at eating through the pain because I'm just gifted. 

Despite how hard it started out, I have so much to be grateful for. With Rowan and Lyra, I would pass out at 8pm every night and could hardly keep my eyes open during the day. This time, I felt normal.  I think I've just adjusted to being tired most of the time. The past few months have really fortified my testimony and brought me closer to the Lord. I've felt love and strength in powerful ways. Now that I'm past the first trimester, I feel pretty spectacular 24-7. I get to exercise 5-6 times a week AND shower. Disney's claim to be the happiest place on Earth is false advertising since the title more accurately belongs to my local YMCA. I was afraid I would never reach a stage of being as excited as I am now and am eternally grateful for my mounting excitement and love of this baby.


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