My Journey to Mommyhood: The Test I had to Pass

I was talking to a lady (@NurturedChild) on Twitter a few months back and she suggested that writing my 'Birth Story' would be a good way to deal with the emotional angst I had towards the experience. I have been thinking about doing so ever since but I couldn't figure out where to start. Then I realized I needed to start at the beginning so here we are. See My Journey to Mommyhood: Trying to Conceive to read the story from the start.


As you read in the previous story we tried to get pregnant for 8 months. Really not a long time in the grand scheme of things. I've since met so many ladies that have been trying for years with nothing but a lot of negative pregnancy tests to show for it, and a lot of heart break and loss along the way. I'm happy to say though, that all the lovely mommies in waiting that I met are due to have little ones this year so congratulations to you all!


In any event I was frustrated with the whole process and anybody that knows me, knows I missed the day they were handing out patience! I turned to a method of ovulation prediction called temping. Essentially, you buy a thermometer and you set your alarm clock. Every morning before getting out of bed you take your temperature and mark it down on a graph or input it into a website like Fertility Friend where they do all the tracking for you and even tell you when your predicted ovulation will be! It's a great site and it's free so check it out if you haven't already (and only if you require such assistance of course).


I hate alarm clocks. I hate mornings. I hate beeping. The thermometer beeps. This has to be done everyday, not just weekdays but weekends too. Remember sleeping in when you didn't have to work? Sacrifices we make. The two months I did this was hell. Even D was irritated by the end of it and I vowed that if I wasn't pregnant this time that was it I was done 'trying'.


October 28, 2009

 My temps had been doing something funky that I just knew had to mean something but I tried to stay calm. I decided I would test on the last day of my regular cycle if my temp stayed up (an indication that your period has not started). It was up even higher than the day before which was basically as good as a positive test but I had to know for sure. I took the test. There has to be a better way to do these things! For real!! Why do we not have the technology to find out we are pregnant without risking pee on our hands? I washed up, then I went to eat my breakfast. I returned to see two lines and I started bouncing off the walls. Not literally, nobody wants to see D that early in the morning especially when you're the reason he's up! I continued getting ready and set out D's lunch for him as I always do and put the test beside it. (Yes I cleaned it first! Geeze!)

My gift was met with his token noise of surprise and "What? No way...Really?". I got a few extra hugs and kisses and of course the bouquet you saw in my last post but aside from that, not much of a reaction. That's just my man though, he's rather stoic. We decided we didn't want to live in fear and began telling people, despite the obvious concern that this could be a repeat of the first time. There were some non-local people that we didn't tell until we were sure and that was more for their sake than ours. Basically I decided I didn't want them to have to deal with a loss if there should be one.

We live in an area that doesn't have enough doctors for the population. My first call was to the Midwives, and it would be again should we ever have another, but they were all booked up for July 2010. I called everywhere looking for a doctor that would have me for my prenatal care because my doctor was on her own maternity leave at the time. I finally found one that had space for me. Unfortunately I didn't like him from the second he opened his mouth, he was abrasive at best but what choice did I have? I attended my first appointment with him alone as we didn't expect anything exciting to happen and D had to work. BAD idea. Maybe he missed the ring on my finger or maybe he's just that rude to all his patients, I'll never know.

Now if you recall, October 2009 was when the whole world was starting to freak out over the H1N1 Flu virus. I don't normally get flu shots. I was concerned if I should have one to protect me or not because some were saying only women in their 3rd trimester were safe. Of course this was one of the first things I asked my new doctor. I was fully prepared to get it or not based on what he had to say, should he give me a well thought out argument to convince me. Instead he scoffed at me and essentially told me I was an idiot if I didn't get it. So naturally I went home and did my own research and decided that the case against getting it was stronger than the case for it and opted for washing my hands regularly and keeping my fingers out of my eyes, nose and mouth. I never got sick even when nursing D back to health, and he even had a fever!

So that was the end of that. I was told to come back for the big doctor appointment, when they actually do more than make you pee in a cup and speak with the Dr. at 12 weeks. Can you imagine having miscarried at 5 weeks and being told you would not be seen until 12 weeks? I was shocked. Even after pleading with them and telling them that I had a previous miscarriage they still nonchalantly told me to return in at 12 weeks. I felt like they were saying if I didn't make it to 12 weeks then at least I wasn't wasting their time. So basically for the next 7 weeks I tried to pretend like I wasn't pregnant 'just in case' so that I wouldn't suffer too badly if something should happen. I reminded myself to be calm, eat right, take it easy and everything would be okay. Despite being pretty sure in my heart that everything would be fine I did miss a couple afternoons when the gas pains felt too reminiscent of my cramps and went home to lay down.

D was supportive of my choices even when he didn't exactly agree 100%. I think he's learned by now that if I've set my mind to something that there's not much hope of changing it. He continually tried to lighten the mood by cracking jokes about me faking it and calling me "Fatty" even though I was far from showing yet. Unfortunately all this did was make me anxious and self conscious. He didn't mean it that way, I know he didn't but it still stung every time and the doubt in my mind was interfering with the knowledge in my heart. I promise though, he really is a sweetheart underneath it all but don't tell him I told you!

Because I don't have any pictures from this particular time besides a stick I peed on I will post this more romantic photo of D and I "Trashing the Dress" the month before we got the good news!

Continue the story: My Journey to Mommyhood: Pregnancy