When we decided to board this baby train, we thought it’d be so very easy. Lord knows, if we could have wished ourselves pregnant it would have happened a hundred times over in the first couple of days. But, we did our best to be patient and silently prayed that we were one of the lucky few that struck gold on the first try. Amidst this all we could talk about were babies . . . names, furniture, toys, discipline, the works. You get yourself so hyped up that when you find out you missed the mark, your world suddenly deflates like a balloon.
For those of us who have never had (diagnosed) fertility problems, pregnancy is thought to be easy. Have sex for a few days before you ovulate and PRESTO! BABY! As nervous as I was at first I was finally ready for this to happen, and so I was utterly disappointed when I realized I was getting my period. Brent has been convinced since about a week into this process that I was pregnant. All of the signs were there and you could just feel the excited energy in our house. Then, on Saturday night, I noticed what I thought was spotting. It was very, very light and I knew it was one of two things. Since my period always starts first thing in the morning I hoped-Hoped-HOPED it was a sign and went to bed giddy as a school girl.
Waking up Sunday morning I was crushed. I spent the morning so very sick with my trashcan in my lap that I held onto a string of hope I could still be pregnant. It became abundantly clear though as the day wore on that I was not. So on Monday I decided to go to the doctor and make sure everything was normal by comparison and sure enough, it was. I could tell I was ovulating out of my right ovary just by looking, and since that is where most of my discomfort comes from every month. And, as it turns out, withdrawal from my migraine meds is what caused the pseudo-pregnancy symptoms. I told him we wouldn’t be back until I had good news.
As sad as I was, I think maybe Brent was a little more distraught. My heart hurt for him almost worse than for myself, especially when a couple of days later he said, “I’m just ready. Ready to be married and ready to have lots of babies.”
I’m ready too.
Sep 18, 2009
Sep 8, 2009
Jumping on the Train
At some point I realized that I was intentionally not writing anymore, not because there was nothing to write about, but because there was new, exciting news that I badly wanted to share but not in a public forum. Then it occurred to me that no one read anyway so I may as well put it out there.
Brent and I have always talked about having babies, how we want five or six children and would love if they were all boys – but hopefully one little girl, otherwise I may have a boy with painted toenails. We’ve gone as far as picking out nearly all of the names and the order in which they will be named. Obsessed? Maybe. But it’s just a testament to how sure we are about this life we’re living, and how anxious we are to start our family. Even so, we had agreed very early on to a three year plan: married after a year (even though we probably would have been married shortly after our second date had it been up to us), and babies after three years. By that point LB would be five and we would have had sufficient time to ourselves.
I’m not quite sure when this plan changed. I think it was gradual, that I woke up one day and realized I was turning 25 soon, and all of the women in my family had their first child at 25. That I have close friends who are pregnant and it increases a mother’s want ten-fold. I had lunch with my dear friend Amanda, who after years of trying is finally pregnant with their first son to be born in October. During the course of conversation she assured me many times that all of her friends who wanted to become pregnant had done just that within a month of her pregnancy. Somewhere in that logic the real reason hit me: what if it takes me that long to have a baby? My mother tried for seven years to have me, and had all but given up hope when I became the miracle baby. It terrifies me to think that I could have the same issues, and if I did, why didn’t I start trying sooner? My choice of career all but dictates that I cannot have a child between the time frame of approximately November 15th and March 1st, because that is the busiest time of year for me and well, I’m the only one who does my job.
So the following weekend, on Sunday night, I was putting a new pack of pills in the case and Brent and I were discussing how if we wanted to get pregnant, it had to be in three month intervals, because that’s how often my medicine came in. We laughed and then Brent said something that caught me off guard.
“We could try now?”
Now, as much as I’d been thinking of this very thing, I never thought he’d come out and say it. We spent two hours sitting in the bed, talking, crying, discussing our concerns; all the while I held my little pink pill in my fingertips. At the end of the night we were okay, but I knew that should we change our mind on Monday, we’d still be okay. He was convinced I’d get pregnant right away, but I was not quite as sure. I was miserably sick for the first week, mostly from fear of this life-changing decision we were making, but little by little, day by day, the fear turned to excitement. This would have been MUCH easier had we just “accidently” gotten pregnant. So we went about our normal routine, with an air of anticipation between us, and talked excitedly about what was to be.
During this, I explained to Brent how there were certain things that I really believed in and wanted in my pregnancy experience. I hope to be able to breastfeed, as much for the cost saving benefits as the fact that it’s what’s best for the baby. He's even been scoping out the best book on the subject for me. I also want to make my own baby food, which is relatively simple and so much healthier than the jarred crap you can buy at the store. Lastly, I really want to cloth diaper. Eyebrows raised at this notion, but once I explained why I wanted to do it, we were quickly all onboard. Long before I ever truly considered pregnancy and found Pacing the Panic Room, I had come across a link for these cool cloth diapers called "Fuzzibunz" on a popular baby blog. Sitting at work I was so engrossed in the website that probably an hour passed before I realized that I had read every page and researched where I could buy this amazing product. You see, LB was only 23 months old when we met and still being diapered. He had horrible diaper rash and we spent a ton of money on disposables – and he was only here a week a month. I vowed then and there, that because I knew I’d never be able to move him to cloth and have his mother go along, that with my babies I would put them in nothing but cloth. My mother even grimaced at this, like many thinking back to the folding and pinning of cloth diapers of yesteryear, but once I showed her the site even she was impressed. How could you not be? No rashes, easy cleanup, better for the environment, and babies who are cloth diapered are even said to potty train quicker (our latest struggle with LB). My want for this all but doubled when I realized that the folks from PtPR were doing this exact thing, and to hear their stories was really encouraging.
With all of our thoughts and concerns laid out on the table, we decided to go ahead and jump on the baby train. So here we are, about 2 ½ weeks into the process, and both anxiously awaiting the next few days to see what happens. Brent seems to think I’m already pregnant; I need concrete proof. He says my crankiness and irritability should be proof enough, since I am never like this. We shall see, can’t wait to find out!
Love, KC
Brent and I have always talked about having babies, how we want five or six children and would love if they were all boys – but hopefully one little girl, otherwise I may have a boy with painted toenails. We’ve gone as far as picking out nearly all of the names and the order in which they will be named. Obsessed? Maybe. But it’s just a testament to how sure we are about this life we’re living, and how anxious we are to start our family. Even so, we had agreed very early on to a three year plan: married after a year (even though we probably would have been married shortly after our second date had it been up to us), and babies after three years. By that point LB would be five and we would have had sufficient time to ourselves.
I’m not quite sure when this plan changed. I think it was gradual, that I woke up one day and realized I was turning 25 soon, and all of the women in my family had their first child at 25. That I have close friends who are pregnant and it increases a mother’s want ten-fold. I had lunch with my dear friend Amanda, who after years of trying is finally pregnant with their first son to be born in October. During the course of conversation she assured me many times that all of her friends who wanted to become pregnant had done just that within a month of her pregnancy. Somewhere in that logic the real reason hit me: what if it takes me that long to have a baby? My mother tried for seven years to have me, and had all but given up hope when I became the miracle baby. It terrifies me to think that I could have the same issues, and if I did, why didn’t I start trying sooner? My choice of career all but dictates that I cannot have a child between the time frame of approximately November 15th and March 1st, because that is the busiest time of year for me and well, I’m the only one who does my job.
So the following weekend, on Sunday night, I was putting a new pack of pills in the case and Brent and I were discussing how if we wanted to get pregnant, it had to be in three month intervals, because that’s how often my medicine came in. We laughed and then Brent said something that caught me off guard.
“We could try now?”
Now, as much as I’d been thinking of this very thing, I never thought he’d come out and say it. We spent two hours sitting in the bed, talking, crying, discussing our concerns; all the while I held my little pink pill in my fingertips. At the end of the night we were okay, but I knew that should we change our mind on Monday, we’d still be okay. He was convinced I’d get pregnant right away, but I was not quite as sure. I was miserably sick for the first week, mostly from fear of this life-changing decision we were making, but little by little, day by day, the fear turned to excitement. This would have been MUCH easier had we just “accidently” gotten pregnant. So we went about our normal routine, with an air of anticipation between us, and talked excitedly about what was to be.
During this, I explained to Brent how there were certain things that I really believed in and wanted in my pregnancy experience. I hope to be able to breastfeed, as much for the cost saving benefits as the fact that it’s what’s best for the baby. He's even been scoping out the best book on the subject for me. I also want to make my own baby food, which is relatively simple and so much healthier than the jarred crap you can buy at the store. Lastly, I really want to cloth diaper. Eyebrows raised at this notion, but once I explained why I wanted to do it, we were quickly all onboard. Long before I ever truly considered pregnancy and found Pacing the Panic Room, I had come across a link for these cool cloth diapers called "Fuzzibunz" on a popular baby blog. Sitting at work I was so engrossed in the website that probably an hour passed before I realized that I had read every page and researched where I could buy this amazing product. You see, LB was only 23 months old when we met and still being diapered. He had horrible diaper rash and we spent a ton of money on disposables – and he was only here a week a month. I vowed then and there, that because I knew I’d never be able to move him to cloth and have his mother go along, that with my babies I would put them in nothing but cloth. My mother even grimaced at this, like many thinking back to the folding and pinning of cloth diapers of yesteryear, but once I showed her the site even she was impressed. How could you not be? No rashes, easy cleanup, better for the environment, and babies who are cloth diapered are even said to potty train quicker (our latest struggle with LB). My want for this all but doubled when I realized that the folks from PtPR were doing this exact thing, and to hear their stories was really encouraging.
With all of our thoughts and concerns laid out on the table, we decided to go ahead and jump on the baby train. So here we are, about 2 ½ weeks into the process, and both anxiously awaiting the next few days to see what happens. Brent seems to think I’m already pregnant; I need concrete proof. He says my crankiness and irritability should be proof enough, since I am never like this. We shall see, can’t wait to find out!
Love, KC
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