I think I failed my first pregnant day...

Last night, as I'm sitting at the Dunn's house, eating pizza at 9:30 PM, I announced to Andy, "Well, I'm pretty sure I failed my first known day of pregnancy."

I'm most sick around supper time, so I end up eating late.  Although, yesterday I HAD TO HAVE Velveeta cheese.  In the jar.  On white Sunbeam bread.  And because my Handsome Husband is the best, (and also because he KNOWS what's up) he stopped and bought me some.  And then called me to make sure the "Cheez-Whiz" in the jar was an acceptable sub for the "Velveeta" variety.  Oh, he's GOOD.

So that was supper.  Then popcorn.  Then pizza.  Oh, and I had a twizzlers.  Food groups?  Who needs 'em?

Our general feeling is that this all happened so much quicker than we were expecting.  Like, there was supposed to be more waiting and pondering.  More tearful mornings holding negative pregnancy tests.  Trips to specialists.  Our biggest topic of conversation is who to tell and when to tell them.  Probably there will be a trip to RI in our near future.

I wore my skinny jeans today- the 14s I FINALLY was able to fit into after a year of dragging myself to the gym.  I know for a fact I'm concerned about gaining back all that weight.  But the reason I was losing was to get to this point.  So it's all good, right?  Right.

And in parting: The Proof

And then...just like that...

I gave up and called the doctor yesterday.  I was too sore in the breastical area, and I was having discharge like crazy.  (That's right folks, I promised you bodily fluids and here they are!)  And then I started Googling- which is a huge no-no for me.  I'm a closet hypochondriac.  I got it from my grandmother.

So I called the doctor.  And the nurse said, "You know...you should test one more time."

And I said, "But I've already tested twice and the last time was only on the 2nd."

And she said, "Test one more time."

So I finished out my day and ran home and told Andy who of course said, "TEST RIGHT NOW!"

No.  Not testing like a crazy person.  Those things cost money.

So we went shopping and when we came home he said, "TEST RIGHT NOW!" 

But I couldn't, because I was too busy being extremely sick.  (#2, for those who are keeping score.)

So this morning I tested.  And as an aside- I think the difficulty of getting into the actual pack of birth control tests is DIRECTLY PROPORTIONAL to how badly you have to pee.  And I was so nervous, of course I dropped the box.  And it went UNDER the vanity.  And then I couldn't find the scissors.  And then my hands were shaking so getting the actual packet open was ALSO difficult.  But eventually I was able to get my act together.

And then it was positive.

And then I screamed, "THIS IS IT!  OH ANDY THIS IS IT!"  And a very groggy, (albeit still Handsome) husband walked in the door and we just STARED at the test.  It's a plus sign all right.  And the longer it sat, the darker it got.  And then we hugged forever and I just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.

That's my story.  I called in late to work and drove (only a small amount over the speed limit) to my mother's house where she must have heard the car door and ran down the stairs to where I was holding both the tests I had taken earlier.  (Two is twice as nice as one, right?)  And as you can imagine there was much crying and laughing and squealing.

My.  No.  OUR first appointment is March 9th.  I will be using Woodward and Associates and we'll be giving birth at Harrisburg Hospital.  God is good.  I know this is right, because we beat some major odds to get to this point in our lives, and on so many levels I should not be at this place that I am right now.

Someday Baby is the size of a sweet pea, but it's going to be twice as big next week.  We won't tell anyone until we hear the heartbeat and get some pics of the little SB, and then the real fun will start.  So if you're reading this, and we've actually met, please be discrete.  You only get one shot at your first pregnancy :)

No news is just that...no news.

February 7th.  No period.  No positive pregnancy test.  So it seems the PCOS is the culprit. 

I have the symptoms all right, sore breasts (which I've never experienced), acne like crazy, cramping, extreme anger and hatred for anything and everything, and exhaustion. 

Handsome Husband has been an absolute rock thus far, which surprises me since he was SO nervous jumping into this process.  He's constantly asking me how I'm feeling.  If I "got a friend" yet.  When I told him no, he said, "Well, it's going to be hard to time things then.  Isn't it?"  Hey, he IS listening!  He was actually counting the amount of times I peed, because his friend told him when she was pregnant she started peeing nonstop.  So this is all very sweet to me- and quite frankly a side of my husband I haven't seen before.

Every time I get anxious to be pregnant, or frustrated because it's another day without a period, I just think that maybe these will be the last few weeks/months where it's just me and Andy.  Just the two of us in a quiet house.  Some day we'll be wishing for a quiet night, or a Saturday morning when we can just sleep in...hopefully.

But then that clock in my brain starts ticking.  The facts that surround getting pregnant after 30 begin scrolling through my mind.  The doubt that this may not ever happen starts to cloud my thoughts.  Thankfully it quickly goes away when I remember God is in control, and I am not.  And everything has gotten better since we started trying!  Our marriage, my body, our physical relationship with each other, even money doesn't seem as tight.  And our mood is up!  We're working towards one goal- a Someday Baby.  We're in it together- and it's fabulous.

So I bought tests for the next month.  Because there's always hope :))

Oh man. I feel wonderful today.

I'm pretty sure women who are TTC are the only ones who ever utter that phrase.

My temp came down.

My waistline came down.

I'm no longer bloated.

My period is due this week so...if that comes, that will close the first chapter in this book.

It was a dark and stormy night...

Thursday wasn't an especially good day for me.  I was just feeling...off.  You know the feeling.  We went to Joyce and Rod Hershey's house for supper, and I was eating, and the whole time thinking---this isn't going to end well for me, is it?  We played board games afterwards and I went to the extreme of unbuttoning my pants, pulling down my shirt, and kneeling on the floor in front of the table, just so my stomach would stretch out and I could get some relief!  To no avail.

2:30 AM...puke.

2:45 AM...drive to Giant and get emetrol and a pregnancy test.  My darling husband opens one eye and says, "You're going now?"  It's raining pretty heavily, but it's fine.

(As an aside, I SWEAR the creepiest people work the overnight shift at Giant.  That is all.)

3:00 AM...no sleep.

4:00 AM...no sleep.

4:25 AM...ZZZzzzz.....

4:30 AM...alarm goes off.  Time for work.  Time to test.  I pee anxiously on the sticky thing and wait.  Meanwhile my brain is RUSHING but I'm trying not to let it. 

4:32 AM...not pregnant.  Negative.  It's fine!  Really!

So I leave the test out for Andy to see and get myself to work.  After about an hour, I'm driving back home again.  And then I proceeded to sleep for the entire day.

My handsome husband is not ready to admit that this month was not a win (he's not used to losing, and now it seems that the conception process is more of a "tournament" than anything.  May the best sperm win!)  HE thinks I could still be pregnant because I'm peeing more than normal.  Yes folks, he's counting how many times I spee.  What a special man to care for me that much :)  He's encouraging me to take another test. 

In closing, I'm considering this pose for our preggers pics.  Any thoughts?

A Trip Down Memory Lane

My mom gave me the baby books she had kept while pregnant and during my first few months of life.  Last night I started to read through them.  Seems that every time she would get up or move around, she would start to bleed and the doctor would send her back to bed.

For six months.

So there was so much depression involved in her pregnancy- so much waiting and wondering and praying and hoping.  So many lonely days of staring at the wall, waiting for my dad to come home.  Many of the entries have nothing written in them- what did she have to say?  I'm sure most of the days were the same as the last.

They noted that they were excited about receiving this new treatment called an "ultra sound."  Which my dad now describes as looking like 'coffee grounds they swirled around'- which now that I see them I see he's totally right.

But it's different than that, because it's one of the last pieces of my childhood that I've got.  So much of my stuff was gotten rid of after our house burnt, and then with the intense flooding last September I lost all my diaries, awards, keepsakes, papers, pictures...you name it.  So seeing these 'coffee ground' looking pictures of me as a little pea pod--well, it got me excited, that's all.

My mom had a 30 inch waist when she found out she was pregnant.  And she was like, seven feet tall.  No, like just a few inches shy of six feet.  So she carried my quite nicely.  (I can't imagine what I'm going to look like at 5 foot 4 inches...) 

Oh and get this- dad planted a sunflower in the window box that mom could see so she could watch it grow.  So sweet, right?  @---------->>

Last night we were snuggling in bed and Andy was holding me, inquiring of my belly if there was anything in it.  I assured him there wasn't.  No symptoms, no nothing.  And it was the first month after all!  And I inquired of him if he'd like to try again next month, since this month was so much fun :)  He just said, "Well, we don't know there isn't anything in there yet..."  He's a good man.

Lowered expectations

In all honesty, I'm more than a little sure that this month isn't going to be "the" month.  And I am such a chronic worrier that in my brain it's already September and I'm not even close to conceiving.  In my brain we've already given up and decided to adopt.  I honestly don't see how women do this for years on end.  I feel like I've wished my entire month away- checking and charting and secretly peeking at baby name websites.  Is this entire year going to go that fast?

And then the other night I had this mild panic attack- nothing major, just in my own head- because I was really nauseous and needed to go to the bathroom (I've been upping my fiber tremendously).  I started to have these AWFUL, intense pains- gas, bloating, etc.- and for the first time I was like, "NO.  Go back.  I don't want this any more.  I don't want this pain for a solid 12 hours or however long it takes me to get through labor.  I'm not strong enough.  Let's just adopt.  I can't do it, I can't handle this!"

And just that quickly the pain was gone.  And it was just me in the bathroom.  And reality set in.  And I realized that this is going to be the most painful thing I've ever experienced in my life.  And then I started to panic again that maybe I WAS pregnant right then and that I wouldn't be able to get out of it at that point.

See what I said?  Full fledged panic attack.  Right there on the potty.  All over a little gas.  Surely I'm not to be trusted with a child.

But I understand that the cool thing about babies is that you grow WITH them.  And you really can't mess them up, if you love them enough.  In the end, I realized God's timing is best.  And my husband is a good man who will see me through the pain and love me all the same.  So maybe we'll give it another go next month.  Because I'm pretty sure this isn't it.