First off, I've been an absent blogger for a while. The last post was on our trip to Denver....that happened back in March. When Ben's sister still lived there. And my days were not totally busy with a two-year old. With Nolan in school two days a week, I had time to clean my house and hit the gym. Since June I have tried to fill his days with fun activities. Three months of activities. With a child that doesn't like being a schedule, but is heartbroken if we aren't busy. And trust me, he is always busy. So for the past three months my days have been consumed with the library, splash pad, playground, JumpZone, Chuck E Cheese, etc. But N went back to school on Monday (for eight whole hours a week) so I will get some sense of myself back.
But back to my thoughts. The thoughts that have been running around in my head for forever. It's been a struggle for me. A planner by nature. The one who likes to have all of her ducks in a row and might line up your ducks too if I get a chance. I hate this part of my life and I try to stay hopeful every single day. Some days are easy as pie. Some days aren't. Those are the days when I find out someone else is expecting. Oh, and this baby was a total surprise. Yeah, those days are rough. So how did I end up here? It's been a fourteen month journey. One that I feel like I should write down. Two posts should cover it. One about the journey to trying to get pregnant and the next about finally getting there and my second miscarriage (the first was before Nolan). For the record we are now at - Miscarriage: 2. Healthy Pregnancy: 1. Those are not statistics that I like. So how did this all start?
When Nolan was about a year old I thought I was close to being ready for another baby. He never slept and he was still nursing, so getting to that point was a huge step. Well, at about 15 months he got his first pair of tennis shoes. That is what sent me into a baby fever frenzy. All of a sudden my baby didn't look like a baby anymore. And suddenly I realized that even if I got pregnant on that very day my children would be over two years apart. That was it. I wanted a baby right then. So I did what anyone that wanted a baby would do. The only problem was that I was still not having AF. I had a child that nursed 8 times a day. I'm sure my prolactin levels were through the roof and I probably wasn't even ovulating, but that didn't stop us from trying...and hoping. From July through November there was nothing. No AF, no pregnancy symptoms. I held out hope that I would be one of those people that caught the first egg before AF. But November came and went and I still wasn't pregnant. But that was just 5 months and I wasn't able to track ovulation...if I was even ovulating.
We decided to wean Nolan. Looking back it was a decision I regret. I feel guilty about it to this day. He hated the process and I hated it too. And then for the next 6 months he had an ear infection every month and had to do round after round of antibiotics. Had I known he would get sick and I wouldn't get pregnant, I would have kept on nursing. But we weaned. And again, I thought first egg. Most fertile after you stop breastfeeding. It's going to happen. But it didn't. I got my first AF in November and that's when she decided to make a regular monthly appearance. In January I went to see by OBGYN. He said 6 months is normal and 12 is when we start taking steps. I was normal. Well, that made me feel better.
We get to March while we were in Denver. I had bleeding on day 21. I just knew it was implantation bleeding. I was at Red Rocks running the stairs and I got giddy. But the next day on the flight home good ol' AF reared her ugly head. That's when I got crazy with ovulation predictors and testing and charting. I did everything right and I still wasn't getting pregnant. For three months I made myself a crazy person. Then we went on vacation in early June and I gave it up. If it was going to happen, I was going to have to let it go. Give it to God. So I did.
I had my annual in July and told my doctor it has been a year. He ran some tests and told me all of my levels were normal. I was secretly hoping something wasn't so there would be a reason. I was officially diagnosed with this awful thing called Secondary Infertility. He wrote me a prescription for Clomid. I cried on the way to drop it off. I would start on day three of my next cycle. So I would be waiting about two weeks and then begin a medicated process to try and get pregnant.
I waited on pins and needles for that cycle to start. The day she was due came and went. But I wasn't going to take another pregnancy test. I had already taken so many before just hoping and they were all negative. I made it a day past and went to store in early August to purchase a two-pack of First Response. I figured it would be negative...again. I didn't use FMU and by goodness, there were two dark pink lines within SECONDS. I was in a state of shock. 13 months and it finally happened. And I didn't even have to take the Clomid. Finally, God answered this prayer.
Up next: excitement and heartbreak. Maybe I'll even throw in a picture.
Now the sucky things about secondary infertility. The crummy stuff I get to hear.
1. You were able to have on kid, so it will happen again.
2. You are already blessed with one perfect child; you should be happy.
3. You don't want to wait too long to have another one.
I'm sure there are a half dozen more that I have just purged from my memory. People these days seriously have no filters.