I am your fiercest protector. Since the day I knew you were mine and every day since, that fierceness grows. It’s inescapable. Unapologetic. I carry it with me everyday with every new step you take and every discovery you … Continue reading
Before I begin this entry, let me preface it with this….if you can’t respect what is written below, I welcome you (and in fact, encourage you) to stop reading and unfollow this blog before the negativity rolls around in…..not interested…….no hard feelings….
To quote Samantha Jones, “I’m just going to say it out loud, the thing you’re not supposed to say,” and maybe others out there can exhale, knowing someone else feels the same way….
I’m not sure I want another baby.
All my adult life I’ve envisioned having two children. It was just…a given. What I wanted. What would be. Just like my career. It was going to happen. Never a doubt. Never in my life did I imagine though, getting married at 37, having my first child at 38 and now at 40 questioning the entire scope of what my family life will ultimately look like. Living in a two bedroom, fourth floor walk-up and having a particularly, ‘strong-willed’ 20 month old who’s only picking up steam doesn’t help matters. But, I wouldn’t change one single day along the path to arriving at this point in my life, so, what do I want now? How will this realistically play out?
{ And just for the record, this has nothing to do with the INSANELY accurate medium reading I had two months before JQ was conceived, telling me-“1 boy…Yep, 1 boy,” and described the experience and him to a tee even before sperm met egg. Mind you, this is also the same medium who described when and how I would meet, “The Brit” and get married years earlier…..coincidence….I don’t think so…..But I digress ….}
Of course, the clichéd barrage of well intentioned, but oblivious and presumptuous folks asking, “Soooo, when are you having the next one?” Or, “You better hurry up and get going with that second one.” Or, (*insert rolled eyes to heaven with look of disgust, horror and/or shock,) “What do you mean you’re not sure about a second one??? That’s not fair to JQ. You gotta.” Well, first of all…..I don’t, “gotta,” do anything and if you know me, you know that telling me what to do really doesn’t fly with me. Secondly, those which have big mouths and even bigger opinions, I have a question or two for you. Are YOU going to help take care of this new baby? Are YOU going to change diapers and clean poop? Are YOU going to breastfeed and pump every few hours until your nipples feel like they’re going to explode like shards of glass from the raw sensation of a gentle breeze blowing by? Are YOU going to babysit everyday while I go back to work or pay for daycare and offer to pitch in at every moment’s notice? Are YOU going to get up for midnight feedings and go through colic, reflux, teething, picky eaters and tantrums (x2) alongside me every single postpartum day? Are YOU paying for college? No????? …..Then mind your business.
However, there are friends who do “get it,” and have the sensitivity to ask in appropriate, less, ‘You are spawn from hell if you only have one kid,’ ways like, “So are you and Chris thinking about another baby?” However it’s asked though doesn’t make this recent ambivalence any easier to swallow.
So where does that leave us? I can’t Pinterest one more pin or Google one more article on why it’s OK to only have one child to justify it in my own head. I can’t seek out one more celebrity or friend on FB with only one child and say to myself, “See they only have one child and their kid looks happy. It’ll be OK.” Marrying an only child who has always been content with only having one child himself doesn’t really help where I’m at in this process either. Of course he would happily jump on board if we go for it, but how can I make a passionate plea when, “Ms. do everything at 110% or not at all,” is currently hovering at about 75%? 85% on a good day. For someone whose main reasons for wanting a sibling for their son was so they wouldn’t be self-centered and wouldn’t be alone in this world is now being matched by other things that seem just as relevant. Time is a cruel thing too and I hate making decisions under pressure, but it’s a fact. I’m trying to make a HUGE decision while whatever viable eggs are left are calling out from the inside, “Bitch, you better make up your mind. I ain’t got all day!!”
Truth? Right now, at this very moment I’m actually fulfilled and content (and… admittedly at times, overwhelmed) with our little triangle. Is that terrible? I’m not sure, but I’m enjoying our little trio in all its fun, chaos, discovery, trials, joy and exhaustion. Every second of it. Even on the days I want to drop kick my kid to China.
All I do lately is think and talk about this in circles over and over again….but as a dear friend recently said to me, “Triangles are nice, Jess. There’s nothing wrong with a triangle.”
But is a triangle just as nice as square?
I just don’t know. But this is what I do know…today, right at this moment….
Now that JQ is a little older and we’ve got our routine and rhythm going, I am actually enjoying seeing bits of my old self resurface. That may be horrible to say, but the hardest thing for me about becoming a Mom was losing my independence and all the things associated with that. I never anticipated those emotions occurring, but they did. I still struggle with it. I also love my career and don’t apologize for that. I love getting back that aspect of my life as well. I missed my husband too and am getting quality time back and caring for, “us,” again just as much as JQ. I love that I’m slowly getting a resemblance of a pre-baby body back. I love that emotionally, physically and financially JQ has all of us and we can provide everything for him, take amazing adventures, show him the world, and give him all of our attention and energy and hearts. Did I mention give him all our energy??….because this kid is full throttle from the time he gets up until he crashes at night and will wipe you out and suck every last ounce out of you like a little vampire by the end of the day….all in the best possible way of course….well, most days…..
But even as I write this I feel selfish and inferior to the girlfriends my age who do have multiples, make it work and definitively wanted that next child. Why? Why do I feel that way? And why am I not as sure as they were? They certainly aren’t the ones making me feel that way…..It’s because society makes women feel, ‘less than,’ if they don’t do what they ‘should’ do vs. what their hearts are telling them to do. That insane and relentless pressure to conform even when that might not be best for your life can get to you; even for someone like me who most times doesn’t really give a shit about people’s opinions or what others think of her. But, we’ve all been there with self-doubt one way or another.
So, while I look at my girlfriends, my inspirations of Mommy Goddesses, in amazement, many of whom don’t have every day help from family, I ask myself if I’m any less of a Mom if I only have one child? Will I regret it when it’s too late? Am I depriving my beautiful little boy of having that incredible sibling bond? Am I fucking him up for life?? I mean, I’m sure there a numerous other things I will inadvertently do to screw this kid up along the way, so this may just be adding to it.
I just don’t know what will be. I joyfully see others with their second pregnancy announcements or deliveries and feel a drop in my tummy, maybe of envy or wanting that too but it passes as quickly as it comes when I remember what’s actually involved. Having hindsight is powerful and no joke. I reread my own entries about my fertility journey and there is nothing I wouldn’t have done to get Jackson Quinn here. Nothing. I would have put my body, my heart and my spirit through hell for as long as it took. There is also nothing I wouldn’t have done to give him the best possible start to life. In some ways, I do feel like I gave him all of me, and still happily do. He is my soul. My life. I almost feel guilty being in the head-space I’m in right now to not jump at the chance to have another baby when that’s all I wanted before he got here. Simultaneously, I was always grateful and content with “one good egg,” and I still am. I got my miracle. Everything else is just gravy…..
Plus, I’m 40, my husband is 44….. we tiiiiirrred…..
There are so, so many pros and cons to either scenario; that, I am abundantly aware. In an ideal world, we would have two and I know if we do one day we’ll be overjoyed and couldn’t imagine our family as complete as before they arrived but, it will be a decision made out of readiness and certainty and desire by us, not the pressures of others. And if we don’t, or can’t, we are blessed with THE most amazing, precious, funny, healthy, happy, coolest little boy. He, is more than I ever dreamed or prayed for. And for that, my life is complete.
The way I look at it is this. JQ was supposed to be here; conceived on an off-chance and stuck around to make his way to us. There was never any doubt this was my son. If another baby is supposed to be here to bless our lives, they will be. There is a reason babies are called miracles and what’s meant to be….will be…..I learned that through having him. I take solace in that on the days when uncertainty plays on my mushy Mommy mind…..
But, to all those who do wish for another child, wish for a first, wish for none at all or anywhere in between, follow your gut and know there is someone out there who understands and gets it. You can only make the best decision at that very moment. You and only you know what’s best for you and your family. Try and put the self-doubt aside as hard as it is sometimes and recognize there is no right or wrong, only what’s meant to be. Continue on your own path to what will make you and your family happy….and complete. I will try to follow my own advice in the days ahead. 😉
A happy, healthy & fulfilled family life to you all in the New Year……
xxx,
Jess
I can tell…..you all look like you just saw a ghost right now, don’t you!? ;)) Well, what better time to announce our incredible news than on our favorite holiday, right before our one year wedding anniversary?! Yes, it is true! Chris and I are thrilled to announce I am in my second trimester and our son is due April 20th, 2015!
Seems our little egg is the trickiest of treats and found his way into our Halloween goody-basket unassisted and earlier than we had anticipated. Let’s just say, we already know he has a mind of his own and clearly does things on his own time (which I already predicted.) Unbeknownst to us, little Nugget had already made his way to us as we sat in our fertility specialist’s office on that very first appointment back at the beginning of August. Because it was very early, it wasn’t until a couple of weeks and six pregnancy tests later that we discovered he was on his way. Ironically, the one month we completely ruled out the possibility of conceiving due to poor timing with me in Vegas for work, did not deter this super baby. Apparently one time, 3-4 days before ovulation was all it took. He decided to chill out and just wait. This one is a keeper. He wants to be here.
While we were completely floored and thrilled (and in shock for a good day or two,) this also meant that Nugget clearly wanted to go to Italy with us as well. Not the trip we had anticipated, my little man granted Mommy no appetite all week, nausea, narcolepsy and an embarrassing display of motion sickness over the side of a boat in front of The Blue Grotto in Capri. So, instead of feasting on Limoncello, wine and endless bowls of pasta all week, I opted for ginger ale, bread, gelato and the occasional bowl of pasta when I could keep it down. All well worth it……
In a nutshell, the first trimester was filled with more fear and anxiety than morning sickness. While I do have the acne of a 13 year old boy, the nausea, bloating, gas and exhaustion has subsided and was bearable in hindsight. I really cannot complain as I’m sure others have had far worse first trimesters than I. Besides my food aversions and craving only watermelon, grapes and red apples, the first trimester for me has been more about how to not lose this baby. Though clearly, what will be will be, while I wish I could say I have been enjoying this time, I’ve been more fearful about waking up to cramping and seeing blood on my underwear. A normal reaction for anyone who has miscarried, I honestly just kept waiting for this little one to “disappear.” Every morning I would wake up and think, “I wonder if this is it.” But, at the same time, somewhere deeper, I knew this kid wasn’t going anywhere and I had to quiet the clutter going on in my brain. I had to start enjoying this, or the time was going to pass me by and I would have missed it all. I’d be lying if I said it was easy and I still don’t fear the worse in the back of my mind, but, I choose to focus on the positive from here on out.
Superstitious to tell people or even dare to look at any nursery items online the first three months, with every sonogram, every blood test it would only just reaffirm him proving me wrong. He was sticking around and making himself comfy in there. I think it really hit me after my Maternit 21 and NT Ultrasound came back negative. It all became real and I’ll never forget that night in the living room, standing there on speaker phone with the doctor as she told us the good news on the test results and watching Chris stumble back into the wall with surprise hearing we were having a boy….It is one of the greatest, happiest moments in my life. I will never forget it.
Now as I ease into my 16th week, I’m starting to enjoy things much more. I’m dealing with the weight gain and all the changes going on in my body and am embracing it all. My belly recently popped and I just love it. So does Chris (as does he love my increased boob size as well.) Most importantly, I am starting to feel more at ease that this time will all be OK. We are over the moon excited, feel extraordinarily blessed to have conceived by “spontaneous conception” after all (as documented by my OB) and are ready, loving and living for this ride we are on.
While this blog started out with the intention of chronicling my fertility journey, I transition now into my pregnancy journey. During these last couple of months, part of me felt as though I lucked out and didn’t endure enough to get to this point. I guess a bit of a guilt -complex set in that I should have struggled more to earn my war badge like so many others must. I do hope however, if in any small way, I will serve as a bit of inspiration and proof to those women still reading that miracles do happen and can and will happen when the timing is right, one way or another……..So please, keep the faith and let’s see where this journey leads all of us!
Until next time…..Happy Halloween & wishing you all 1 Good Egg in your goody bag too! xxx
By Chris…..a.k.a “The Brit”………
When my wife first suggested writing a blog to retain her sanity as we set out on our fertility journey, I couldn’t have been more supportive of the idea. “Great idea!” said I, “Go Balls-out;” not knowing at the time I was going to get drawn into becoming a contributory writer. Then again, I should have known better. Have you met her? Hmmm, of course you have……. so you know what a strong minded woman she is.
I’d put off writing this for some time, why? I have no idea. Perhaps it was the thought of putting my own personal life out there on public display even if it was only to a limited group of family, friends & acquaintances, but deep down I knew that having nodded compliantly some months ago there was no going back. So here it is. The middle aged alpha-male perspective on all this!
I guess, subconsciously I’d never really given much thought to having kids of my own, even as most of my contemporaries were having families, I thought of myself as “Will”, “Cool Uncle Will,” like the character Hugh Grant plays in the film “About a Boy”. I still considered that I had plenty of time for all that sort of thing but the truth of the matter was, that as much as my wife’s body clock was ticking, the realisation set in that mine was too! I finally recognized that I didn’t want to be a geriatric dad, but at the age of 42 maybe that’s exactly what I would be. Granted, my wife & I couldn’t have met & married any earlier & our entire journey has been as fast-tracked as it possibly could have been. So, nonetheless, these were the cards we’d been dealt, but with that, my own fertility was brought starkly into question and that was something I’d never considered before!
So, as my wife & I sat in the reproductive endocrinologist office considering the prospect of IVF treatment, the topic of conversation turned to focus on me.
“And of course, as part of the pre-screening, we’ll ask your husband to provide a sperm sample for all the usual testing. Just make an appointment at the front desk to tender the sample on site”.
Now, I should say at this point, I’m not naively Neanderthal to think I wouldn’t be required to do this, but I suddenly gave thought to how it all works. I envisaged a white padded room, with plastic chair and pornographic literature from the 1960’s. I’d been in pressure situations before but this was something else. How could I be expected to perform under such conditions? I needed mood lighting, scented candles, privacy & a snuggle rug along with my iPhone.
“Alternatively, ask the nurse to provide you with a sterile receptacle on the way out & you can work from home, but remember the sample has to be dropped into our office within 45 minutes.”
Phew, now this was much better. Plus, I had the added benefit of my wife being “on hand” to help out. Anyway, when the time came, my delivery was modest to say the least and my male ego was sufficiently bruised in front of my ever supportive wife, even though we did laugh about it afterwards! If that wasn’t disconcerting enough though, it was nothing to the embarrassment I experienced upon getting to the clinic in order to make the “drop-off”. Expecting to be first on line as the doors opened at 7.30am, I was greeted by a packed waiting room full of the opposite sex. I nervously fumbled through my work bag for the sample and felt a bead of sweat form on my forehead as I sheepishly told the admin girl, “I….. I know it’s in here somewhere!” Needless to say, I handed it over & completed the receipt forms before sheepishly dashing for the nearest exit.
Now that I’m through with the comedic element of all this, there is a serious point to make here. A couple’s fertility issues are something that need to be managed collectively & sympathetically by both partners. The one thing I’ve learnt on the journey thus far is that it’s vital that both individuals listen to one another every step of the way & really hear what the other is saying, but it’s equally important that you give each other space to rationalize each other’s private thoughts over any given issue. The fertility journey requires us to make huge decisions; often with a sense of urgency about things we never previously considered and these thoughts can weigh heavily, especially when the final outcome can last a lifetime.
I remember one afternoon when my wife & I were looking even further ahead and discussing the possibilities of egg donors, sperm donors, surrogate mothers or even the prospect of adoption. As an engineer I’m conditioned on solving the immediate problem at hand & I never try to get too far ahead but during this particular discussion I began to wonder if that route really was for me. Could I be a good father to a child where only half the gene pool emanated from one side of our marriage? This was huge and I have the utmost respect for those who have the courage to pursue this part of the journey, but the question remained……. was this for me? At the time of writing, I’m still undecided!
The more I debate the issue in my head the more I begin to realize it was my acceptance of an intrusion into our relationship that I was questioning. In my experience, it’s rare to find two people in their late 30’s or early 40’s these days that are getting together and don’t have children from a previous relationship. My wife & I were different here. The fact remained though, instead of creating something new borne out of our relationship, I might be forced to accept that we’d have to open up our lives to something from outside. It wasn’t so much as to whether I could do it as to whether I wanted to. It was somehow an invasion of our intimacy.
The one thing I now know is that I’d need a lot more time to wrap my head around this because the decision isn’t mine alone & whatever I decide affects wifey too. Ultimately, our family unit is the most important thing to me & given that we both have so much to offer as prospective parents, I think I’d eventually be entirely accepting of whatever our journey turns out to be.
Now that my doting husband and I are back from our whirlwind Italian adventure, complete with romantic strolls, sun, gelato, pasta…..gelato and more pasta……it’s time to get back to reality as much as I’d love to sit around our pool in the lemon grove and continue to indulge in carbohydrates as my main food group.
Upon our descent back into normal life, nothing will smack you hard across the face more than being enlightened to the notion that apparently age is still not just something of a number. While I have gotten over the hump of turning 38 a few weeks ago, dealt with it and embraced all the wonderful positivity that surfaced the air before we left on vacation, it seems that women over 35 are still being labeled with a stigma that really has my pasta water boiling. I’m not sure how many of you are aware, but “geriatric pregnancy” has been brought to my attention by my acupuncture guru as a legitimate medical term for a pregnant woman over 35. When she informed me of this horror, I was flabbergasted and must have had the, “Are you fucking kidding me?” face on for a good 30 seconds….Literally. So what did Jess do? Jess went home and immediately started researching this nasty, name-calling to get to the bottom of this.
Apparently, as I’ve read, while the medical community must have had a light bulb go off in their antiquated heads that this categorization was just that…antiquated…they have been so gracious as to now update the term to, “advanced maternal age” in their medical books. I’m sure that this will make every woman over 35, or just about to turn 35 feel so much better. Thank you.
Really? That’s the best you can do?
Now, listen, I am not minimizing the reality of the situation when a woman begins their fertility journey a little later in life. I’m living proof, as many of my girlfriends can attest to as well. There are obviously things that need to be addressed and physical things that are occurring in the body that nobody has any control over. Our egg viability and reserve are what they are and certain risk factors do increase the older we get, nobody will deny that……..BUT, there are also a lot of myths out there which need to be dispelled.
Firstly, infertility does not just ‘mostly’ affect women over 35. There are many, many women in their twenties and early thirties who are enduring the same pain, heartbreak and frustration that “geriatric women” are facing. I’ve seen them in the doctor’s office every week with the same look of desperation, nerves and cautious hope I have. Sometimes, there is no rhyme or reason for why things are the way they are, so to blame age as the culprit every time is excluding an entire demographic of women struggling with the same issues.
Secondly, while the risk for certain things like preterm labor, birth defects and miscarriage does increase with age, these numbers do not magically spike overnight and should not be viewed as a curse or death sentence. A concern? Yes. The need for continuous dialogue with your doctor and pre-screening? Definitely. But if you are 38, you should still feel optimistic to assume you will and can have a healthy, happy baby. And that’s what I intend to believe.
Finally, while I’ve mentioned this in a previous blog entry, it is worth reiterating. There is something that is most important to consider. As the years roll on, women are having babies later in life for a number of reasons. They are more career-orientated, they have things they want to accomplish for themselves first, they want to be financially stable, they want to find the right partner, etc. This takes time. The stars don’t always align when we want them to. All the pieces of the puzzle have to fit. Fertility is just one of those pieces. And no, there is never the perfect time to have a baby, but society is clearly shifting in terms of women delaying motherhood. There is no denying that. However, older women are also having more success than in recent years because of better emotional, financial and medical support….and that’s pretty inspiring.
I will not lie though…..I do envy those perky little pregnant 27 year olds, sitting on the subway rubbing their perfectly popped bellies, prenatal yoga mat in hand, looking picture perfect, thinking…. “This bitch probably got pregnant on the first try & her body is going to snap right back in a week.” You know what? I still wouldn’t change where I am at this point in my life. In truth and in fairness however, I don’t know that girl’s journey and what she endured to get where she is. She may have struggled beyond measure. But, it still makes me feel better in a moment of weakness. I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t.
Being younger does have many, many advantages but I don’t believe it’s all about youth anymore. I think there is something to be said for having lived a little. And, in truth, a lot of my friends look better than some twenty-something’s I see on the street. Maybe it’s because they do work harder for it and are more conscience of living healthy lifestyles. Maybe it’s also because when you’re in your twenties, you’re expected to be beautiful and perfect (and fertile.) When you’re older, you’ve earned it. (I can’t take credit for that thought; it was on an episode of Golden Girls…..thanks Dorothy….)
With that, I choose to remember that Grandma Jessie over here is not about to give up her stilettos for a walker or her focus of one good egg for throwing in the towel and sitting back in her rocking chair waiting for her body to disintegrate. Medical community, you can label us over 35’s anything you want, but the bottom line is, we are not out for the count…….it may take us a while to get there, but we can. Having a baby is called a miracle for a reason. If and when it’s a woman’s time to conceive, she will….beyond all science and logic….and that’s whether you’re 38 or 28. Here’s to hope everyone.
*Before I start this blog entry, I’d like to apologize to my husband in advance for the full disclosure & TMI. He was an innocent participant in all of this.
So…any of us that are having issues conceiving know changes in cervical mucus during the month are prime indicators for when ovulation and your peak fertile window is approaching. We all wait patiently for that little smiley face on the ovulation predictor test to appear and for that perfect “egg-white” texture (hence another egg reference) and aim to provide those little “spermies” an ideal vessel in which to travel. Yeah…..well, I just don’t seem to have a knack for deciphering the difference between creamy, sticky, egg-white or watery cervical mucus. Maybe, I just don’t have any. Who knows at this point? I could be drying up like the Sahara for all I know. Only until this month was I able to think I got some sort of glimpse into what this magical and heavenly egg-white texture was supposed to look and feel like. When I told my acupuncturist that I just don’t see significant changes, she reminded me that I did get pregnant once already so something must be going right….fair enough.
Well on my quest to decide if the “Big O” was approaching (ovulation day, not orgasm day in case your minds were in the gutter)….I must have spent a good half hour trying to figure out what was going on. The ovulation test was still not showing any signs of the stupid smiley face and honestly, I was not in the mood for anything that night other than devouring the yummy dinner I had just made and plopping on the couch with the dog and a cuppa. But….duty called and I was determined not to miss out on another month. I finally decided that I am shit at this and would have to enlist Chris to check for me when he got home. Great. Now he’s gonna think I want to fool around and pounce. Same way he assumes this when I quickly walk naked through the apartment to throw my dirty laundry in the washing machine before jumping in the shower. No, I’m not trying to be sexy or seduce you right now walking scantily clad across the room…. I just want to put my dirty clothes away because they stink from 5 hours of teaching dance classes tonight. Nonetheless I was going to take my chances.
My adorable, loving husband walked through the door that night and during dinner I explained what he had in store of him that evening. Talk about a honey-do list.
Me: “Babe, I need you to check my cervical mucus tonight.”
*Picks up his head with that wry smile…*
Chris: “Alrighty, I think I’m up for the task…..” *wink* *wink*
Me: “No hon. Seriously. I’m not trying to be sexy here. I really don’t know what I’m looking for.”
Him: “OK. If I must…..I must…….” *wink* *wink*
Me: “Oh god…..really??”
As we both broke out into laughter, I thought he got the picture that his usual up for anything wife was tired this one evening and this was purely a clinical request. As I waited for him to change and get comfortable I was flicking through the T.V. before he called me into our bedroom.
Chris: “OK…lay down.”
Me: “Don’t be funny, just do it.”
Chris: “I will but I need you to lay down and relax.”
Me: “Alright. But just do it quick. Please……..”
Chris: “OK, but I can’t work under this kind of pressure.”
Me:……*silence*……………”Are you done yet?”
Chris: *heavy breathing commences – slowly starts kissing me*………
Me: *more silence and then I hear the T.V. in the background*…….“Hon….I love you but I really don’t want to fool around right now. Can you PLEASE just check my cervical mucus so I can go watch America Ninja Warrior???”
Chris: *hysterical laughter*…….”Yeah, yeah alright……..”
God I love that husband of mine. He just gets it. Priorities people. Priorities. This is what intimacy is built from…….Long story short………we never figured out the cervical mucus that night but we did catch one hell of an episode. Great show.
Writing this blog has been something I’ve been toying with for the last few weeks. While it’s been frustrating since the miscarriage in January waiting to conceive again (and honestly more like expecting to conceive again since we got pregnant on the first try,) the new-found knowledge that my eggs are in question has made the situation even more pertinent. So, instead of just waiting for the miracle of life to happen naturally, receiving the information that may not happen on its own has put me in a very different head space.
This journey is extremely personal. It’s a lot of information that a lot of people might question why I’m putting out there. Quite frankly, I questioned writing it myself and spoke with Chris at length about whether I wanted our lives out there and why. The truth? I just hope it helps. I hope it helps me to get my emotions and thoughts out there so I don’t sit around and brew and feel sorry for myself. I hope it inspires others. I hope it teaches people that infertility is prevalent and it’s nobody’s fault. I hope it creates dialogue. I hope it fosters support. I hope it makes relationships stronger. I hope it makes us laugh and show there are funny moments amidst struggle and I hope at the end of this journey, I have these writings to show our “little egg” how much he was wanted and how much we were willing to endure to get him here.
As with anything I have done in my life, I either do, or don’t do. I did it in my professional dance career, I did it in grad school and I still do it now when I teach. A good dancer doesn’t mark. Everything is full out. I either will put myself out there 110% or not at all. So here I go. What I will say is as hard as this situation continues to get, I am the luckiest girl to have a partner who listened to my thoughts on starting this blog, sat there at the kitchen table and said I should go and do this “balls out” and write from the heart, uncensored. So I thank “The Brit” for letting me expose him, for being my rock, my biggest supporter and my partner in crime who I take this baby-makin biz with seriously. We are a team. Me and you. You and me. No matter where this roads leads us. I may have been more fertile, with ripe, juicy follicles at 25 where the egg pickin’s were endless, but you were a piece of the puzzle that needed to be filled before this baby was meant to be. I believe that I needed to wait for you. So while all those puzzle pieces align, the timing is optimal now, no matter what those numbers on a lab report say. Everything in our relationship and all that has fallen into place for us has been ruled by the stars and angels above. This will be no different. With this struggle, we will love and appreciate this baby ten-fold when he arrives. Neither of us is afraid of adversity and even in weak moments we will be OK. That much, I know.
So….that’s why I’m putting out; my writing that is, figuratively speaking. I am scared, excited, hopeful, anxious, ready, filled with dread, doubtful, faithful, fearless, optimistic, pessimistic, trusting and forging ahead. Lately, I have often been caught saying to myself and others,
“I can do this. I know my body can do this at least once. I feel it. There’s no way I can’t conceive and carry at least one healthy child.”
I have been so tightly wound to control this situation and even though I have never felt so good physically, mentally and spiritually through the practice of mediation, prayer, acupuncture, Chinese Medicine, exercise, rest, summer days at the beach, great sex and de-stressing, the truth is, ultimately this is not in my control. There is a reason having a baby is called a miracle. There is a point where science ends and faith must take over. As my dear friend Simone recently pointed out,
“I hear you keep saying ‘you can do this.’ ‘You know your body can do this at least once.’ Jess, when you realize that it’s not YOU that’s going to make this happen and release it up to God, let him do his thing and trust….that’s when you’re going to get pregnant.”
This has stuck with me for the past few days. I know it’s completely true and nobody has said it better. Now….here….. is where I try to make a conscious effort to control the things I can control but worry a little less and trust my angels above. Through my writing I hope to find a peaceful place of acceptance and get ready for this baby we can’t wait to meet.
Yep….OK…..15 DPO, 4 negative pregnancy tests, 2 swollen boobs I want to rip off my body, 10 gallons of water weight bloating, one moody wife and one patient husband…… and…… we wait. Oh no, we’re not waiting for the love our life, our “little egg” to appear, no we’re waiting for Aunt Flo to finally friggin get here so I can button my pants again this month and get over the fact that despite perfect timing, egg-white cervical mucus (finally), a happy smiley face on the O test and corresponding temperatures, we are in fact NOT PREGNANT. We are so not pregnant that the void of a second line on the pregnancy test was so apparent the thing almost jumped out and smacked me in the face to tell me,
“Asshole. You are not pregnant and staring at me isn’t going to change it, no matter how many angles you look at me from or how long you hold me up to the window to see if the sun reflects a line off of me. Stop holding me under the table lamp too and putting me down, walking away for ten minutes and coming back to double check. You’re just making an idiot of yourself and you should be ashamed.”
So….here Priscilla sits waiting…..just waiting……Oh. Wait. You haven’t met. Meet Priscilla. That is my PMS alter ego who remains present until post-period, follicular phase Jessie returns. I’m sure you’ll get to know her well.
You know….It’s bad enough you have the dreaded two week wait after ovulation where you sit in this purgatory of hell just willing your temperatures to stay up so that you’re still in the running. But now, to know you’re not pregnant and your luteal phase just doesn’t want to end….well that’s just cruel and downright mean.
People asking, “well…..are you sure you’re not pregnant?” does not help either. In a nutshell…….Yes, I’m fucking sure. Do you think I’m making this shit up? Do you think I enjoy the repeated ass-kicking my negative pregnancy test has been giving me the past week?! Really??? Mind your business……..I know my body.
I guess I should look on the bright side. My luteal phase is long enough for an embryo to implant so that’s one problem I’m not enduring. Although, there is no embryo that seems to want to implant so that kind of defeats the purpose of that rationale. But, nonetheless as my acupuncture guru advises,
“I believe your body is getting itself ready to implant. Your temperatures are looking good (except that dip mid cycle we just can’t seem to boost and she keeps reminding me of) and it’s just a matter of time…..It’s going to happen.”
I do believe this….I have to believe this. Now, I just need to talk Priscilla off the ledge before she demolishes ALL of The Brit’s chocolate stash his friends brought him over from England.
Period.
Dedicated to all women who persevere with unwavering strength & faith & believe in baby-making miracles. You are warriors of the womb. Continue reading
1 Good Egg 