The last two weekends have found me in the same spot: on my living room couch watching re-runs of a show called "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" on The Learning Channel. Ignoring the fact that the last thing I should be doing during my own pregnancy is watching woman after woman giving birth to their babies on the cold, dingy floor of a fast food restaurant, this show has turned out to be one of those train wrecks that I can't look away from. And while the last 15 minutes of every episode has had me in tears, fearing for the life of a baby, I saw one episode last weekend that had me in tears, not just because the mother or baby could have died, but because that really could have been me.
This particular episode was about a women who was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) when she was 19 and she was told she would never be able to get pregnant. It was obviously hard for her to accept this diagnosis but her doctor was very firm in his decision and so she learned accept it. So, a few years later, when she started experiencing a lot of the common signs of pregnancy like weight gain, specific cravings, heartburn, and even movement in her abdomen she didn't think anything of it. Her and her husband even went so far as to jokingly refer to the movement in her abdomen (which she believed was just gas) as the alien in her belly. And when she began to experience excruciating pain in back she went to the hospital, but because her doctor said she would never be able to get pregnant they tested for everything but pregnancy and sent her home thinking she was simply constipated. Hence, the reason she ended up giving birth to her little girl in her master bathroom toilet.
Witnessing her story made me realize just how thankful I should be for my OB GYN who did not use the word "never" when she diagnosed me with PCOS. Instead, she told me it would be hard, it would take a lot of work and patience, I would have to lose weight and become a healthier person, but she put a lot of emphasis into the words "not impossible." It was not impossible for me to get pregnant, it was just going to take me a lot longer than most women.
The last 3 years would have been much more heart-wrenching, cold, and shocking had she told me it would never happen.
So, this passed Thanksgiving I had a lot to be thankful for: not just my family and friends, but the miracle that has been growing inside of me for the last 7 months and a very smart and dedicated obstetrician who put a lot of effort into telling me not to give up, that with the right resources and outlook I could reverse the side-effects of PCOS and my miracle could happen.
Showing posts with label infertility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label infertility. Show all posts
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Do You Believe in Magic?
If you've been following my blogs for a few years now, you may remember this one in which I found out my little sister was pregnant, and I spent a good deal of it crying because it was supposed to be me, and because she wasn't ready, and because God had gotten it wrong. I wrote at the very end that God works in very mysterious ways and if I had known just how mysterious He really operates, I might not have spent the last two and a half years fretting whether or not I'd ever have children. I would have just quit my job, or done something equally life-altering and terrifying.
On July 2, 2009--two days after being laid off--I discovered I'm pregnant.
Jon and I are both ecstatic despite the circumstances. When you've been trying to have a baby for 3 years, with no luck, you can't be too picky about the surrounding dilemmas when it finally does happen. I've also spent the last 3 years calming myself with words such as, "God will let it happen when it's supposed to happen," and who I am to accuse God of getting it wrong twice? Apparently, it was supposed to happen now--I don't know why just yet--but we'll make it work somehow.
I'm only 2 months along and I've lived in constant fear of a miscarriage. I'm afraid it might permanently break me to have finally made it this far only to see it slip away due to no fault of my own. I've made drastic changes to my life, even in just the last 2 weeks, to be more accommodating for this baby, and I really hope I've done enough.
The scariest moment thus far had to have been last Saturday morning when I woke up feeling exceptionally well. I wasn't nauseous, my boobs weren't sore, my head wasn't pounding, and I wasn't starving. I woke up feeling perfectly normal--more specifically--I didn't feel pregnant. I was convinced--so convinced that I had Jon convinced--that I was going to miscarry at any moment and life would never be the same again.
I spent the next two days crying sporadically and asking God why He got his kicks from beating me while I was already down. I mean, seriously, I don't have a job anymore and I'm pregnant? Why force me to come to terms with such a frightening situation--get me excited for it even--and then take it all away at the drop of a hat? I was very, very angry with Him in case you haven't noticed. But then everything changed on Monday when my little sister and I went out to lunch together and I almost vomited in her car afterward. Suddenly I felt like my new self again. Suddenly I was overwhelmed with the feeling of pregnancy and the assurance that everything would be okay. I quickly began apologizing profusely to God.
It felt like years had passed, but Tuesday (yesterday) finally rolled around and Jon and I were off for our first prenatal appointment. I had trouble sleeping I was so anxiously awaiting the moment I could see our tiny blob on the ultrasound monitor and the flicker of the baby's little heartbeat.
The appointment lasted nearly 3 hours. We provided our family medical history, had dozens upon dozens of questions answered (and they weren't even phased by my symptoms randomly disappearing and reappearing) and finally we got to the ultrasound. When the technician zoomed-in and pointed out the tiny heartbeat I heard Jon suck in a huge breath. I realized two things at that moment: he'd been scared, really, really scared about what we would find, and he was hiding it from me/for me, and I also understood that he finally realized what was happening--it was finally official--he acknowledged that he was going to be a dad with that sharp intake of breath. It was quite possibly the most magical moment of my life thus far.
I'm 8 weeks along. 4 more weeks and my chance of miscarriage drastically declines although I'm not so afraid anymore. I'm pretty sure I know how to do this now. I'm pretty sure I know what this baby needs in order to survive: it simply needs to me to calm down, be healthy, and enjoy the marvelous ride. My due date is February 22, 2010, 6 days before my 28th birthday, which means its entirely possible I will share a birthday with my first born child. It also means Jon has finally found a birthday gift for me that is larger--oh, so much larger--than our house.
On July 2, 2009--two days after being laid off--I discovered I'm pregnant.
Jon and I are both ecstatic despite the circumstances. When you've been trying to have a baby for 3 years, with no luck, you can't be too picky about the surrounding dilemmas when it finally does happen. I've also spent the last 3 years calming myself with words such as, "God will let it happen when it's supposed to happen," and who I am to accuse God of getting it wrong twice? Apparently, it was supposed to happen now--I don't know why just yet--but we'll make it work somehow.
I'm only 2 months along and I've lived in constant fear of a miscarriage. I'm afraid it might permanently break me to have finally made it this far only to see it slip away due to no fault of my own. I've made drastic changes to my life, even in just the last 2 weeks, to be more accommodating for this baby, and I really hope I've done enough.
The scariest moment thus far had to have been last Saturday morning when I woke up feeling exceptionally well. I wasn't nauseous, my boobs weren't sore, my head wasn't pounding, and I wasn't starving. I woke up feeling perfectly normal--more specifically--I didn't feel pregnant. I was convinced--so convinced that I had Jon convinced--that I was going to miscarry at any moment and life would never be the same again.
I spent the next two days crying sporadically and asking God why He got his kicks from beating me while I was already down. I mean, seriously, I don't have a job anymore and I'm pregnant? Why force me to come to terms with such a frightening situation--get me excited for it even--and then take it all away at the drop of a hat? I was very, very angry with Him in case you haven't noticed. But then everything changed on Monday when my little sister and I went out to lunch together and I almost vomited in her car afterward. Suddenly I felt like my new self again. Suddenly I was overwhelmed with the feeling of pregnancy and the assurance that everything would be okay. I quickly began apologizing profusely to God.
It felt like years had passed, but Tuesday (yesterday) finally rolled around and Jon and I were off for our first prenatal appointment. I had trouble sleeping I was so anxiously awaiting the moment I could see our tiny blob on the ultrasound monitor and the flicker of the baby's little heartbeat.
The appointment lasted nearly 3 hours. We provided our family medical history, had dozens upon dozens of questions answered (and they weren't even phased by my symptoms randomly disappearing and reappearing) and finally we got to the ultrasound. When the technician zoomed-in and pointed out the tiny heartbeat I heard Jon suck in a huge breath. I realized two things at that moment: he'd been scared, really, really scared about what we would find, and he was hiding it from me/for me, and I also understood that he finally realized what was happening--it was finally official--he acknowledged that he was going to be a dad with that sharp intake of breath. It was quite possibly the most magical moment of my life thus far.
I'm 8 weeks along. 4 more weeks and my chance of miscarriage drastically declines although I'm not so afraid anymore. I'm pretty sure I know how to do this now. I'm pretty sure I know what this baby needs in order to survive: it simply needs to me to calm down, be healthy, and enjoy the marvelous ride. My due date is February 22, 2010, 6 days before my 28th birthday, which means its entirely possible I will share a birthday with my first born child. It also means Jon has finally found a birthday gift for me that is larger--oh, so much larger--than our house.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
The Rocky Check-Out Story
I've never really gone into the details behind my "infertility", mostly because it's personal, but also because I'm not entirely comfortable talking about it. My body has always been screwy but it's never had effects quite like this before where I've felt so helpless and defeated and very embarrassed at the fact that there isn't much I can do about it but keep on keepin' on--it's usually my brain that puts me in those predicaments. I can lose weight which is on the ever growing list of 2008 resolutions, and I can take fertility medications which I probably will someday when I feel that Must-Get-Pregnant-NOW urge rear its big head. But I've already admitted that I'm not devastated by my Almost Infertility anymore, and it's true, I just have to give you a little more information in order to tell you the story of our trip to the store tonight and what transpired when we approached the checkout with a case of New Castle and a twin pack of pregnancy tests.
What I have is called Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. Basically, my ovaries aren't creating eggs because they're too busy creating cysts and without those eggs and all the other hormones telling my uterus to begin preparation, I miss quite a few visits from Aunt Flow. It's just one of many side-effects to PCOS which can be, but are not limited to: ovarian cysts (check!), excessive weight gain (check!), sleep apnea (check!), increased facial hair growth (fortunately I've been spared this except for that one solitary chin hair that I have to violently pluck every few months.) In other words, it could be worse.
Overall I've found the problems to be tolerable, but I've gotta tell ya, the missed menstrual periods were killer those first few months. Every time it didn't show I let myself get excited only to be devastated after taking a test. Nowadays, I never expect my period to arrive and I've stopped running out to the convenience store for a new value pack of First Response tests when it doesn't show. Now I put more of an emphasis on making sure I'm not pregnant before I do anything crazy that could be harmful to a baby, like drinking excessively on New Year's Eve.
Which brings us to the aforementioned store where Jon and I were standing in one of the many liquor aisles. He'd already loaded his choice of alcohol, a case of 12 New Castle beers on sale for $12.99, into the shopping cart, and I was staring intensely at the wall of premixed drinks, trying to decide between the Mai Tai or Long Island Iced Tea. Just as I'd gently placed the bottle of Mai Tai into the cart, fairly confident with my choice, Jon reminded me of the conversation we'd had earlier in which I told him that I had to take a pregnancy test before the party on Monday and that I should pick one up the next time we were at the store.
His reminder made me second guess my choice of Mai Tais so I put it back on the wooden shelf, telling Jon that I'd wait to make my decision until after we knew if I could drink or not.
We then went in search of the home pregnancy tests which we found effortlessly. I snagged a twin pack off the shelf and got in line at the register, loading what I'm sure appeared to be an odd combination to anyone; a 12 case of beer and a home pregnancy test on to the conveyor belt. I greeted the cashier, a middle-aged woman strangely resembling my seventh grade home economics teacher, and began fishing through my purse for my debit card.
"Are you expecting it to take?" she asked.
I heard her, but I didn't respond. I didn't know how to. Instead I shoved my face further into my purse and pretended to keep digging, even though I'd already located the card.
"Apparently not," she said.
I finally looked up, card in hand, and asked "Huh?"
"Well," she began, cocking her head to the side and grinning, "what did you just buy? I could've sworn I just scanned a pregnan.."
"Oh!" I interrupted, just as I attempted to scan my card through the reader but my hands were shaking so much that I missed, and the card went flying through the air and landed two feet away.
"I have no idea," I admitted, scrambling to reclaim my card and get the hell out of there.
At this point the young trainee standing at her side began to look a little uncomfortable, as well as the equally young girl who was then placing the test in a brown plastic bag.
"Do you have any children?" the cashier asked me, completely ignoring my discomfort in our conversation.
"No," I said, defensively.
"Then this will be your first! You must be so excited!" she squealed loud enough for other cashiers to glance in our direction. "You will just love being a Mommy!"
I quickly signed for the purchase, shoved the receipt into my purse, and began pushing the cart out of the lane, ignoring the woman's wishes of a Happy New Year and best of luck to us in parenthood.
Jon leaned into me while we rushed for the door and whispered, "That was really embarrassing."
"I know," I said, "I felt like a teenager buying condoms."
I'm willing to admit that I acted immaturely. I shouldn't have gotten so defensive and uncomfortable, and even though I was, I should have done a better job of hiding it. I have to stop running from social situations like this, or at least stop pretending that they aren't happening when they really are. But I'm also going to say that this woman had no business getting all up in my business like that, and assuming that a) the test would be positive, and b) that I wanted it to be positive. I'm not angry about it, but I am taken aback, because she really straddled that line between being friendly and being intrusive.
What I have is called Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. Basically, my ovaries aren't creating eggs because they're too busy creating cysts and without those eggs and all the other hormones telling my uterus to begin preparation, I miss quite a few visits from Aunt Flow. It's just one of many side-effects to PCOS which can be, but are not limited to: ovarian cysts (check!), excessive weight gain (check!), sleep apnea (check!), increased facial hair growth (fortunately I've been spared this except for that one solitary chin hair that I have to violently pluck every few months.) In other words, it could be worse.
Overall I've found the problems to be tolerable, but I've gotta tell ya, the missed menstrual periods were killer those first few months. Every time it didn't show I let myself get excited only to be devastated after taking a test. Nowadays, I never expect my period to arrive and I've stopped running out to the convenience store for a new value pack of First Response tests when it doesn't show. Now I put more of an emphasis on making sure I'm not pregnant before I do anything crazy that could be harmful to a baby, like drinking excessively on New Year's Eve.
Which brings us to the aforementioned store where Jon and I were standing in one of the many liquor aisles. He'd already loaded his choice of alcohol, a case of 12 New Castle beers on sale for $12.99, into the shopping cart, and I was staring intensely at the wall of premixed drinks, trying to decide between the Mai Tai or Long Island Iced Tea. Just as I'd gently placed the bottle of Mai Tai into the cart, fairly confident with my choice, Jon reminded me of the conversation we'd had earlier in which I told him that I had to take a pregnancy test before the party on Monday and that I should pick one up the next time we were at the store.
His reminder made me second guess my choice of Mai Tais so I put it back on the wooden shelf, telling Jon that I'd wait to make my decision until after we knew if I could drink or not.
We then went in search of the home pregnancy tests which we found effortlessly. I snagged a twin pack off the shelf and got in line at the register, loading what I'm sure appeared to be an odd combination to anyone; a 12 case of beer and a home pregnancy test on to the conveyor belt. I greeted the cashier, a middle-aged woman strangely resembling my seventh grade home economics teacher, and began fishing through my purse for my debit card.
"Are you expecting it to take?" she asked.
I heard her, but I didn't respond. I didn't know how to. Instead I shoved my face further into my purse and pretended to keep digging, even though I'd already located the card.
"Apparently not," she said.
I finally looked up, card in hand, and asked "Huh?"
"Well," she began, cocking her head to the side and grinning, "what did you just buy? I could've sworn I just scanned a pregnan.."
"Oh!" I interrupted, just as I attempted to scan my card through the reader but my hands were shaking so much that I missed, and the card went flying through the air and landed two feet away.
"I have no idea," I admitted, scrambling to reclaim my card and get the hell out of there.
At this point the young trainee standing at her side began to look a little uncomfortable, as well as the equally young girl who was then placing the test in a brown plastic bag.
"Do you have any children?" the cashier asked me, completely ignoring my discomfort in our conversation.
"No," I said, defensively.
"Then this will be your first! You must be so excited!" she squealed loud enough for other cashiers to glance in our direction. "You will just love being a Mommy!"
I quickly signed for the purchase, shoved the receipt into my purse, and began pushing the cart out of the lane, ignoring the woman's wishes of a Happy New Year and best of luck to us in parenthood.
Jon leaned into me while we rushed for the door and whispered, "That was really embarrassing."
"I know," I said, "I felt like a teenager buying condoms."
I'm willing to admit that I acted immaturely. I shouldn't have gotten so defensive and uncomfortable, and even though I was, I should have done a better job of hiding it. I have to stop running from social situations like this, or at least stop pretending that they aren't happening when they really are. But I'm also going to say that this woman had no business getting all up in my business like that, and assuming that a) the test would be positive, and b) that I wanted it to be positive. I'm not angry about it, but I am taken aback, because she really straddled that line between being friendly and being intrusive.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Not a Complete Catastrophe
I decided to check-up on my 2007 resolutions, seeing as I only have a month and a half left to resolve them all. What I found was that I'm not doing so hot, which didn't surprise me as I had to actually look them up in order to remember what they were. I'm thinking next year I won't be quite so vague in my choices. I'll give myself clear and defined goals, and somehow, some way, force myself to stick to them. Even if my willpower tends to dissolve quickly.
1. Continue preparing my body for the hopes of a baby in 2008.
Status: Incomplete
When I made this resolution 11 months ago Jon and I were both feeling like the batteries in our biological clocks were running out. Being told that though I wasn't "infertile", it was going to be very hard for me to conceive, made me feel as though the pressure was on full throttle. It was either get pregnant now or forever hold your derelict eggs, because if I'm having problems conceiving at 25, what are my chances at 30? I spent a few months obsessing over amounts of folic acid and caffeinated drinks. I was reading and implementing every fertility tip I could get my hands on. I cried every time I was told another family member or friend was pregnant, because I felt like a failure. But then one day it finally hit me, and I came to a fundamental realization--I'm still young, and I still have time. I began to overlook all of the old classmates and co-workers, who were my age, but already had children in grade school. I stopped feeling so pressured by the past 4 years of a childless marriage. I'm only 25-years-old, surely it can wait a few more years. Lucky for me, Jon is on the same page. He told me a few weeks ago that he will be extremely happy when we conceive, or even adopt, our first child, but he's already extremely happy spending his life with just me, and I couldn't agree more.
2. Enhance my social skills.
Status: Satisfactory
My little sister once looked me in the eye and said "I don't want to be like you, Katie. You don't have any friends." It was a harsh statement, blurted out while she was drowning in her own tears and anger, but those two little sentences felt like giant, iron fists rapidly, and repeatedly punching me in the gut. I have absolutely no resentment towards her for saying it, because after all, it wouldn't have hurt so much if it wasn't true. I just didn't think anyone noticed. I've carried the statement with me for two years, not as a grudge, but as a reminder, a memento for every time I sat quietly in a corner, or received an invitation to a party, because I couldn't make friends if I didn't communicate with people, and I certainly couldn't make friends if I didn't venture outside of my narrow comfort zone, and I so desperately needed friends. And so each time I felt invisible or caught myself on the verge of turning down an invite, I told myself "I don't want to be like you, Katie. You don't have any friends."
I'm still working on not sounding like a blathering idiot every time I speak, but at least I'm speaking, and at least I'm out there doing something, rather than throwing my own lonely pity party at home. The imaginary memento, compliments of my sister, that I carry in the back pocket of my jeans is paying off. I've gotten to know some really wonderful new people this year. I have friends and co-workers that I absolutely adore, and I can feel myself becoming more and more comfortable around them. My life hasn't been this busy since I juggled three different sports for three different leagues when I was a kid, and I don't think I would have it any other way.
3. Encourage the savings account to grow, not shrink.
Status: Incomplete
At least I can say the savings account has not shrunk. In fact, it might just be at the same exact dollar amount it was 11 months ago. Money has been moved in and it's moved right back out for various reasons. Owning a home has turned out to be a lot more expensive than I originally thought. New water heaters and doubling property taxes and gas bills have made saving incredibly hard. We also adopted Macy this year, who has turned out be a very pricey dog with one ailment after another. Unfortunately, pet insurance only looks like a good idea in hindsight. I wouldn't give either one up without a fight though, because I love my house, and I love my crazy dog even more. And let's be honest here, looking around our home, you can see that our priorities do not lie in building a savings account or preparing ourselves for future disasters, rather it's my hapless quest to make each room look like it belongs in a magazine, and my husband's much too expensive toys that hold our attention the most. This one should have been easy. This one should have read Satisfactory. This one will make it on next year's list, but hopefully in a more clear and defined resolution that I actually resolve to do.
1. Continue preparing my body for the hopes of a baby in 2008.
Status: Incomplete
When I made this resolution 11 months ago Jon and I were both feeling like the batteries in our biological clocks were running out. Being told that though I wasn't "infertile", it was going to be very hard for me to conceive, made me feel as though the pressure was on full throttle. It was either get pregnant now or forever hold your derelict eggs, because if I'm having problems conceiving at 25, what are my chances at 30? I spent a few months obsessing over amounts of folic acid and caffeinated drinks. I was reading and implementing every fertility tip I could get my hands on. I cried every time I was told another family member or friend was pregnant, because I felt like a failure. But then one day it finally hit me, and I came to a fundamental realization--I'm still young, and I still have time. I began to overlook all of the old classmates and co-workers, who were my age, but already had children in grade school. I stopped feeling so pressured by the past 4 years of a childless marriage. I'm only 25-years-old, surely it can wait a few more years. Lucky for me, Jon is on the same page. He told me a few weeks ago that he will be extremely happy when we conceive, or even adopt, our first child, but he's already extremely happy spending his life with just me, and I couldn't agree more.
2. Enhance my social skills.
Status: Satisfactory
My little sister once looked me in the eye and said "I don't want to be like you, Katie. You don't have any friends." It was a harsh statement, blurted out while she was drowning in her own tears and anger, but those two little sentences felt like giant, iron fists rapidly, and repeatedly punching me in the gut. I have absolutely no resentment towards her for saying it, because after all, it wouldn't have hurt so much if it wasn't true. I just didn't think anyone noticed. I've carried the statement with me for two years, not as a grudge, but as a reminder, a memento for every time I sat quietly in a corner, or received an invitation to a party, because I couldn't make friends if I didn't communicate with people, and I certainly couldn't make friends if I didn't venture outside of my narrow comfort zone, and I so desperately needed friends. And so each time I felt invisible or caught myself on the verge of turning down an invite, I told myself "I don't want to be like you, Katie. You don't have any friends."
I'm still working on not sounding like a blathering idiot every time I speak, but at least I'm speaking, and at least I'm out there doing something, rather than throwing my own lonely pity party at home. The imaginary memento, compliments of my sister, that I carry in the back pocket of my jeans is paying off. I've gotten to know some really wonderful new people this year. I have friends and co-workers that I absolutely adore, and I can feel myself becoming more and more comfortable around them. My life hasn't been this busy since I juggled three different sports for three different leagues when I was a kid, and I don't think I would have it any other way.
3. Encourage the savings account to grow, not shrink.
Status: Incomplete
At least I can say the savings account has not shrunk. In fact, it might just be at the same exact dollar amount it was 11 months ago. Money has been moved in and it's moved right back out for various reasons. Owning a home has turned out to be a lot more expensive than I originally thought. New water heaters and doubling property taxes and gas bills have made saving incredibly hard. We also adopted Macy this year, who has turned out be a very pricey dog with one ailment after another. Unfortunately, pet insurance only looks like a good idea in hindsight. I wouldn't give either one up without a fight though, because I love my house, and I love my crazy dog even more. And let's be honest here, looking around our home, you can see that our priorities do not lie in building a savings account or preparing ourselves for future disasters, rather it's my hapless quest to make each room look like it belongs in a magazine, and my husband's much too expensive toys that hold our attention the most. This one should have been easy. This one should have read Satisfactory. This one will make it on next year's list, but hopefully in a more clear and defined resolution that I actually resolve to do.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Sink or Swim
I didn't know how to react on Saturday night when my 19-year-old sister told me she was pregnant, so I cried. I cried because she is so young and looked so scared. I cried because her part-time clothing store gig that is lacking benefits is not going to be enough anymore. I cried because her boyfriend already has a little girl somewhere in Michigan that he never sees, and because neither of them has learned how to take care of themselves yet, let alone a child. I cried because I could see her at some free clinic, signing up for free insurance, and a free crib at the completion of her Well Baby Classes. And as selfish and caddy as it may seem, I cried a little because the frightening word "infertility," and possibility of, was still floating around in my head from my last gynecologist appointment.
I immediately gave myself a mental slap, wiped at the tears that had started down my cheeks, and began asking her about the facts in order to get over myself. I had no right to make her feel even worse than she already did. The last thing she came to me for was a guilt trip no matter how unintentional it may be. I got over myself very quickly.
Apparently the doctor at the clinic believes she is four months along, but my sister is convinced it is less than that. She says it is a mother's intuition, but I wouldn't know anything about that. She did sign up for the free insurance and classes, and she went as far as to consult our older sister, who is in the low-income housing business, about places for single mothers. I have no idea where her boyfriend stands in this, but given all of the steps she has taken thus far, it seems she expects him to run.
As of Saturday she had told her boyfriend, our mother, our older sister, and me, which left our father and three brothers. I think she was trying to rally as much feminine support as she could before letting any of the male family members know. I suppose I can't blame her, but even for someone as quiet as I am, this information is a little hard to hold on to. I told Jon after she left, though I'm pretty sure she expected that.
My sister is five years younger than I am. She is the baby of the family, and has always reaped the benefits of being so. She still has an enormous amount of growing up to do, and I suspect she will have to do so very quickly now. She still lives at home, though we aren't sure for how long after our father is given the news. To say that I am jealous of her pregnancy is probably an understatement, but I wouldn't wish to be in her predicament in a million years. God sure works in very mysterious ways.
I immediately gave myself a mental slap, wiped at the tears that had started down my cheeks, and began asking her about the facts in order to get over myself. I had no right to make her feel even worse than she already did. The last thing she came to me for was a guilt trip no matter how unintentional it may be. I got over myself very quickly.
Apparently the doctor at the clinic believes she is four months along, but my sister is convinced it is less than that. She says it is a mother's intuition, but I wouldn't know anything about that. She did sign up for the free insurance and classes, and she went as far as to consult our older sister, who is in the low-income housing business, about places for single mothers. I have no idea where her boyfriend stands in this, but given all of the steps she has taken thus far, it seems she expects him to run.
As of Saturday she had told her boyfriend, our mother, our older sister, and me, which left our father and three brothers. I think she was trying to rally as much feminine support as she could before letting any of the male family members know. I suppose I can't blame her, but even for someone as quiet as I am, this information is a little hard to hold on to. I told Jon after she left, though I'm pretty sure she expected that.
My sister is five years younger than I am. She is the baby of the family, and has always reaped the benefits of being so. She still has an enormous amount of growing up to do, and I suspect she will have to do so very quickly now. She still lives at home, though we aren't sure for how long after our father is given the news. To say that I am jealous of her pregnancy is probably an understatement, but I wouldn't wish to be in her predicament in a million years. God sure works in very mysterious ways.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Baby Cravings and Other Tales
The updates have been sparse but this vacation has been exactly what I needed. I was asked countless times why I would take a week long vacation but not travel anywhere and my response is because I needed to veg. I needed to be lazy and sleep whenever I wanted. I needed to lie down with a book and not care for how long I had been inactive or about the more important things I should have been doing. I liked the freedom of staying up until 5:00 in the morning on Thursday and sleeping in until 11:00am. It was freedom that I haven't experienced in a very long time and it was much appreciated. Not to mention Jon and I all ready took a trip to Maryland and D.C. in April so I didn't feel any strong pulls to get out of Ohio.
While most of our time was spent simply relaxing, we also took the opportunity to extend our evening walks, go exploring through the woods and get eaten by mosquitoes, and spend a few afternoons pool-side at Jon's aunt's house.
On Wednesday I visited my cousin and met her new son. He's her first child and seeing her facial expressions and mannerisms in him took me back to memories of Skip-its and Slip and Slides and all of the other cool things she and I did twenty years ago. I also felt a twinge of regret that we had managed to grow so far apart in those twenty years. As I was leaving she made fierce eye contact with me and said, "You're next. Make sure you're ready before you have kids. I thought this would be a lot easier." And yet I left with a renewed desire to be pregnant. I was so inspired, in fact, that while at the library today, as Jon was looking through the new CD's, I scanned the nonfiction shelves and walked away with What to Expect When You're Expecting. I think I'm more curious than anything but for some odd reason, at the young age of 24, I can feel my so-called "clock" ticking. Perhaps I'll never learn.
Today I begin preparing myself for Go Back To Work Mode. Yes, it is only Friday but I do not want to be blind-sided by Sunday evening. I get to start meal planning, grocery shopping, laundry washing, and otherwise getting on with my real life, all while learning what I can expect if I can ever manage to become pregnant, or at least, learn everything that a book can tell me.
Sadly, that doesn't sound like a half bad weekend to me.
While most of our time was spent simply relaxing, we also took the opportunity to extend our evening walks, go exploring through the woods and get eaten by mosquitoes, and spend a few afternoons pool-side at Jon's aunt's house.
On Wednesday I visited my cousin and met her new son. He's her first child and seeing her facial expressions and mannerisms in him took me back to memories of Skip-its and Slip and Slides and all of the other cool things she and I did twenty years ago. I also felt a twinge of regret that we had managed to grow so far apart in those twenty years. As I was leaving she made fierce eye contact with me and said, "You're next. Make sure you're ready before you have kids. I thought this would be a lot easier." And yet I left with a renewed desire to be pregnant. I was so inspired, in fact, that while at the library today, as Jon was looking through the new CD's, I scanned the nonfiction shelves and walked away with What to Expect When You're Expecting. I think I'm more curious than anything but for some odd reason, at the young age of 24, I can feel my so-called "clock" ticking. Perhaps I'll never learn.
Today I begin preparing myself for Go Back To Work Mode. Yes, it is only Friday but I do not want to be blind-sided by Sunday evening. I get to start meal planning, grocery shopping, laundry washing, and otherwise getting on with my real life, all while learning what I can expect if I can ever manage to become pregnant, or at least, learn everything that a book can tell me.
Sadly, that doesn't sound like a half bad weekend to me.
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