October 9, 2008

Tonight I stumbled across something I wrote a year ago.

Here it is.*

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October 9, 2008

This time I am crying more. And I think it is because I know what I’m getting into. Not that this is about the dreary life of a new mother with the late night feedings and the diaper changes, although I am less fanciful about what it will mean to have a baby than I was the first time.

But the first time, I didn’t cry.

I cry now because I know how much I can love. I cried when I got the call that said “it worked.” I cried when I saw the little flickering heartbeat for the first time, and again two weeks later when I saw my olive sized baby wiggly around. The first time, if I cried – it was as much from relief as joy. Relief that I wasn’t infertile anymore. This time, as I watched that little gummy bear kick and wave on the ultrasound screen, I already loved her. Because of the first time, I know what it feels like to love her.

The first time, I looked forward to loving my child;, but it took awhile to move from loving the idea of a child to loving that child. This time I instantly love this specific child. My baby. Our baby.

Meg.

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*I did some editing - I had to. I had written "him" in a lot of places. So much for mothers intuition. And of course, I added the last word.

Finding Happiness at the Gym

I went to the gym today for the first time since December-ish 2006. Believe it or not I really like running on a treadmill. So I was looking forward to doing that today.

I realized something while I was grinning away (during the first half of my run, the second half I had that look on my face that makes other people wonder WHY people like running). What I realized was that the last time I went to the gym regularly it acted as an escape. It was one of the two settings that I wasn't completely aware of my infertility. The other, oddly enough was when I was holding a baby. So, holding a baby and running while listening to a CD and reading the captions on the TV were the only times I didn't feel overwhelmingly infertile. I remember knowing as I entered the gym that I would be getting 40 minutes free of worry, anxiety, envy, and sadness, and of course I looked forward to that. I had forgotten this past function of the gym but, with that learned response in my psyche, no wonder I felt giddy as I entered the gym today.

The memory I have of what it felt like not to have a baby, my baby, is something I think about so often when I see my sweet girl smiling at me from her crib.

The Making Of

In June 2006 I was just to the point that I was considering ending treatment to investigate adoption. However, our doctor recommended IVF, saying it was the fastest way for me to be a mom. We waited briefly for the insurance approval and then off we went. We found out we were officially pregnant on Sept. 11, 2006.

Overall the pregnancy was easy. In the beginning I got queasy from 11a-4p everyday. This was while I was at work so Aaron didn't have to deal with much whining (according to me), so according to him the pregnancy was a piece of cake.

I really loved my belly as it got rounder.


Though it sounds odd, one of the things I loved about pregnancy was the extremes: the extreme hunger, the extreme fatigue, the extreme anger, the extreme laughter.

I guess you can say, I never knew what to expect next.

Slow Start

Tessa was due three days before our 6th Anniversary.

We had a lot of time as just a couple, before she came. As in so many things, this was not according to our plan. We had been "trying" for just under three years when we finally got pregnant. In theory three years doesn't seem that long, but believe me, it was 35 months too long.

It was over 40 negative pregnancy tests too long. It was 134 self administered injections too long. It was many crying, praying, begging nights too long. It was dozens of friends happy announcements too long.

It was a long, long time.

In the same breath that I wish we wouldn't have had to wait so long I am also grateful for a few of the things that resulted. For one, I am grateful for my appreciation for my sweet daughter. I don't think it is fair or truthful to say that "infertiles" love their children anymore than "fertiles." That makes no sense. However, I think I may have the upper hand when it comes to understanding what a miracle the life of a child is. I know so much more about the reproductive cycle then I ever wanted to, and frankly, it is a miracle any of us are here! So many things need to be perfect for conception and gestation to occur. Babies really deserve to be awe-inspiring.