After Every Storm, Comes a Rainbow

A year to the month when we officially started trying is when I got the positive test…

…and the rest is, as they say…history…

I’d all but given up. I had a doctor appointment back in June, which was my last update on the whole endeavor. At that appointment, we confirmed the PCOS diagnosis, talked about my future, health-wise and pregnancy-wise…I was offered additional meds to help with fertility, which I declined because if it wasn’t going to happen naturally, it wasn’t going to happen. We had no interest in extreme intervention as we’d already birthed two perfectly made children. Had I not been able to have kids from the beginning, I’d have gone for it, but at this point in our lives, we just didn’t see it necessary. I hadn’t given up entirely, but I’d made peace with the fact that I may never carry or birth another child and ironically, I was totally fine with that scenario, should it be our final chapter.

I sort of gave myself a deadline, which may sound silly to some, but after months of disappointment, a miscarriage and so many unknowns, I was ready to be done, either way. So the end of this year was my deadline and I’d be done. I didn’t really discuss that plan with James in depth, because I just didn’t feel the need to broadcast it at the time, but he knew I was approaching that decision in recent conversations anyway. As for him, he’s totally laid back and completely supportive and he was fine with whatever may or may not happen as well. We’ve just been dealt this hand and had to come to terms with a lot of realities…

But, like I said, I hadn’t completely given up…because on July 7, I took a pregnancy test. It was no surprise that it was positive, because I was nearly a week late and wasn’t feeling quite myself, but at the same time, it was a complete surprise. After a lot of negative tests and months where my cycle showed up again and again, it just seemed normal that it wouldn’t happen. Except it did. We were excited. I told James as we were literally rushing out the door to get somewhere, but we hugged right in our kitchen for a few minutes and it just felt right. I wanted it to be different, more special, but at the time, it WAS special. We were finally here and I couldn’t have kept it in if I tried.

I spent the first few weeks very anxious. Excited, but anxious. I was convinced I’d miscarry again. Every trip to the bathroom, I anticipated blood. Every cramp seemed to me like an emergency, and I was afraid that I wasn’t actually pregnant at all. That some additional hormonal imbalance caused a false positive test. It was stressful and I tried not to let myself think to much about having a baby, sadly, but there was a lot of moments of happiness too. I let myself buy an article of baby clothing, looking for some confirmation to make it really REAL, so slowly but surely I got there.

At ten weeks, I finally saw the OB for the first time. I was anxious heading to the appointment, still afraid that something was wrong or would go wrong, or there’d be no heartbeat. I had an initial meeting with the OB nurse specialist and we chatted about my chart, health and some issues I’d been having with blood sugar (more on that in a minute). I was then sent over for an ultrasound. I actually expected to see nothing, which was awful…but then a baby popped up on the screen. It was moving and had a healthy, beating heart. I didn’t really expect to cry, but we all know how that stuff hits you…a thousand tears started streaming down my face…a year’s worth of sadness of stress came out on that table…and a whole lot of heart of happiness filled up some still empty parts of my soul. I was pregnant. Really and truly pregnant. We had created a tiny life and it was thriving. A surreal moment.

We told the kids around 14 weeks. We sat Lark and Arlo down with the ultrasound photos and explained it all to them. Lark was beyond excited. She’s been asking for a baby for about two years now and had so many questions. Arlo was semi-oblivious, grabbed the ultrasound and ran around the house with it while I freaked out that he’d destroy it, but we laughed too. Every day he understands it more and is excited. The night we told them, Lark was so concerned about mine and the baby’s wellbeing…covering my belly with a blanket so baby wouldn’t be cold, laying her head on my belly to be close to the baby…she is so excited and can’t hardly wait. One night, she asked if there were six more sleeps until the baby. We had to burst her bubble and tell her more like six months. She broke down in legit tears. She’s already the best big sister and will be again. It’s weird to think that Arlo isn’t the baby anymore. I’m struggling with that, even though I’m excited. It’s just that thing about getting pregnant and having another baby that makes your youngest seem that much older overnight. He pats my belly and talks about the baby a lot now, saying he wants to hold it and calling it “our” baby. I can’t wait to see him as a big brother, just not ready for him to grow so much in the blink of an eye! We let Lark tell Brennan once he got home that night, he seemed pretty excited and laughed about having to get another tattoo, since he has them for his other siblings too. He’s a good brother and the kids adore him. I have no doubt this baby will too.

I’m 15 weeks now and finally feeling better. Officially into the second trimester, but that first trimester was a doozy! I was so nauseous, tired and weak for so many weeks! I felt like a zombie most evenings, couldn’t cook or eat much and lost about 14 pounds overall. I would have to sit of lay still for long periods of time, then every time I’d get up or move, the nausea would rear its ugly head again. Perpetual motion sickness and it. was. awful! There were days at work I didn’t think I’d make it through, but I managed to not have to take any time off for being ill, even though there were days I’d have to lay on the cold tile in the ladies’ bathroom (I know, gross! But when you’re desperate for any kind of relief, cold tile it is). There were so many nights I had to actually sit outside while James cooked because I couldn’t even smell food. I was eating very little and most of it carbs, causing my blood sugar issues to really go crazy (I’ve written about insulin resistance in PCOS before and it was a major issue here). I actually decided to check my blood sugar levels regularly for awhile to figure out how best to manage it. I was having highs and then very scary lows. I’ve found I have to eat a combo of good carbs and protein every couple of hours to stay in a good range. The OB will be doing the Glucose test on me right at 24 weeks. I’m hoping I’ll escape gestational diabetes, like I have before, but things are still a but unsteady here and there so it’s hard to say. I’ve had lots of aches and pains too, but that’s to be expected.

I feel like I’m having more good days than bad lately, and my appetite is coming back a bit. I hate hating food, it’s absolute torture to have nothing taste good and just have nausea nonstop. But all so worth it. I’m in a place of trying to enjoy every day now and looking forward to what’s to come. I’m so beside myself in happiness thinking about holding a sweet newborn again and going through the whole process again. James is excited too and we just can’t wait to do this thing one last time!

One of the longest years of my life with some really hard moments. I can’t even ever really put into words exactly how it feels to go through any of it and everyone’s journey is so different. There is still a lot to process in my brain, but this next phase is going to be so good. I’m excited to put the rest behind us and move forward, even though I think some of the sadness and emotion will linger forever…after every storm, comes a rainbow…our little rainbow baby will arrive in the lucky month of March…