It’s not as glorious as one would think. The roller coaster of emotions is overwhelming. Grateful but guilty. Happy but sad. Allow me to start from the beginning; trying to get pregnant again.
1 year and 3 months, or 456 days, of trying to get pregnant again. For the record, that’s 10 hormone shots, over 50 ovulation meds, countless progesterone supplements, and so many disappointing first day periods.
I knew I was pregnant before I knew I was pregnant. Does that make sense? The journey of trying to get pregnant again, to be able and bring home a baby, was not an easy one. I had gone through several months of health issues after my induced labor with Milo. I had an undetected infected uterus (better known as Endometritis), that kept me from successfully getting pregnant. An infected uterus has a hard time implanting an egg to its uterine wall, and if it so happens to, a miscarriage is likely to occur. I’m not sure I would have been able to deal with a miscarriage after my recent loss, so in a backwards way, I was happy it never caught. I was angry it took me almost a year to finally find out why I wasn’t getting pregnant. I kept thinking there was something wrong with my body, that my heart break had broken me somehow.
Following my endometritis, doctors found cysts on my ovaries. I couldn’t catch a break. “No insemination this month, sorry”. I was prescribed more medication and sent home. At this point, disappointment became a causality in my life, and I was really beginning to believe this was never going to happen for me.
October 2021, I finished my meds and had one final ultrasound, where doctors were able to confirm that there were no cysts, no infection, and therefore, no reason why we shouldn’t be able to get pregnant again. Along came the day where we were finally ready for insemination. Later when I got home, I did some fertility yoga, drank lots of water and went to bed early. I’m not sure what it was but I knew this was the one. I had had that feeling before and turned out to be totally wrong, but this time I wasn’t worried or stressing about it. Maybe because I was so used to being disappointed, I felt I had nothing else to lose but one more month of unmet dreams.
I took my pregnancy tests at 8 days post ovulation, way too early according to experts, but alas, I saw the two pink lines. Those lines got darker every day that went on, and I knew it was finally happening. Finally! I was getting what I had yearned in my heart for the last 456 days!
Comments