Where to Start...
It has been almost 2 years since I last wrote a blog. There are a few reasons for it, but mainly it's because I've been trying so hard to keep to myself and not overload others with my incessant rambling and feelings of struggle. Well, that's not doing me any good. Even therapy and journaling on paper aren't really cutting it.
In person, I am trying so hard not to be the "Debbie Downer" that I feel like my insides are going to burst out of my chest. This is not to say that my life isn't great. I am incredibly fortunate to be an employed white female in America with a husband I love, one crazy (yet amazing) daughter, the most laid-back dog you'll ever meet, and our dream home complete with a pool! So, what is my damn problem and why can't I just get the F over it?! I ask myself this daily...
A major part of my struggle lies in not being able to give my daughter a sibling yet. You see, I am reaching that dreaded age of 36. Many people would have you think that 36 year olds are just dried up and incapable of having healthy, happy babies because their eggs have just disappeared into some black hole somewhere and are no longer thriving. Well, that isn't the case for me. All of my "levels" are completely normal and there is no real reason for my "infertility" right now. Great! So how come I can't just magically pop out another baby?
It's so stupid, but when I was in college, I had my palm read in Baltimore. This woman told me that I would be very fertile. Well, I would like to go back in time and slap her! This information made me so worried about getting pregnant in college that birth control was like a religion and I assumed that once I stopped taking it, I would just sneeze and be pregnant. Part of me wishes I would've just thrown caution to the wind and used my "fertile" years less wisely. (Disclaimer: If you are between the ages of 16 and 21, USE PROTECTION and birth control. I really wouldn't have wanted to be pregnant any earlier than age 30 looking back on it. I am just being sarcastic and slightly bitter.)
My heart breaks every time my 2 year old asks for a baby sister. It is like a blow right to the gut. I know she has no concept of what it takes to create a baby, let alone where they come from, so in her sweet little brain, they just swoop down from the sky Boss Baby style and she wonders why one hasn't arrived yet. I pray all of the time that I will either be able to produce the sibling she so badly desires or that I will be able to accept the fact that my daughter may end up being an only child. I know she will be just fine if that has to be the case, but I want for her to have that relationship. Even though my younger sister and I didn't always get along with each other, it's like a security blanket to know that you have someone else you can turn to when your parents are driving you nuts or you just need to talk about how childhood has messed you up...sorry Mom and Dad. ;-) I hope and pray that she will receive the sibling she desires at some point in the near future.
On the other hand, I also have a crazy amount of anxiety about going through another pregnancy and birth experience. You see, getting to have my daughter in the first place wasn't an easy road. I had a miscarriage prior to her which required me to have a D&C. This was a "routine" procedure that was supposed to be easy; however, I had complications which required me to have a blood transfusion and a stay in the hospital...in the maternity ward no less (Calvert Memorial - you all really need to do better when dealing with Moms and loss...). After that lovely experience, I struggled for about a year to conceive my sweet girl. Pregnancy had its share of ups and downs. I actually lost weight my first trimester because I was so sick, then they thought I may have placenta previa which lead to many Dr's appointments until they confirmed that it had moved out of the way and was not an issue any longer. The last third of my pregnancy went rather smoothly. Aside from swollen ankles and weight gain, I was happy and still working out. BUT, then came labor. I went into labor while at work (I teach middle school, need I say more?). They had me wait it out until my contractions were about 2 minutes apart. I tried to explain to my Dr that although it was my first delivery, quick deliveries run in my family and I wanted to try to be seen as soon as possible. I made it through about a half day at work and was in labor for about 5 hours before I got to see the Dr. I wasn't dilated enough to send me to the hospital, so she wanted me to go home and wait. She sent us on our way with some prescriptions and my husband and I spent at least an hour at Wahlgreen's in Edgewater trying to get them filled. During this time, I continued to feel worse. I thought I was going to throw up, then came the bleeding. This scared me, but the Dr. said it might happen because they had checked me. After calling back 3 times, she finally told me to go to the hospital to be seen. When we got there, I was 7cm dilated...I told them! The scariest part was that my daughter's heart rate just continued to drop every single time I contracted. I knew something was wrong when people kept running in and out, but the nurses at AAMC were absolutely amazing. They remained calm, talked me through it, patiently gave me an epidural and then my Dr. told me we were going to have a C-section. Even though I wanted to have a "natural" birth, I wanted to have them do whatever they could to get the baby out safely. We were whisked away into the operating room and they did the procedure. It is impossible to put into words what it is like to be awake and be operated on. I was shaking uncontrollably and just praying that God would keep us all healthy and safe. When Aurora came out, she was completely white and not making any noise. Although they had initially said that they would let me see her before they closed me up and checked her out, that got nixed because she needed help. She wasn't breathing on her own and her APGAR score was super low. They swept her away to the NICU and the anesthesiologist took my face in her hands and calmly said "don't worry, they are going to take excellent care of her. She's going to be fine and you will get to see her soon." She did not have to do that, but she certainly made me feel better in a completely helpless situation. Eventually, it was determined that I had a placental abruption which caused the bleeding and my daughter's issues. Anyway, I am sharing all of this again because I hate that I feel like I shouldn't talk about it.
I adore my friends and family and I truly am happy for all of their pregnancies, babies, etc., but it is so freaking hard not to be jealous when they appear to simply decide to have a baby and it happens. I know now from my own experiences that miscarriages and pregnancy complications are so much more common than I ever realized, but I hate that it's so difficult to talk about it. I just always feel like there is a dark cloud in my brain over this one part of my life and it just keeps raining on the rest of it. So many of us are struggling and I feel like we all try to put up this facade that everything is perfect and wonderful. It's easy to do this on social media. I just have to check myself and remember that I have absolutely no clue what anyone else's life is truly like. Even if they tell me to my face, I still haven't been in their shoes.
I have always been prone to overthinking everything, so I am constantly being critical of myself when it comes to why I can't seem to get pregnant again. I know I'm too fat, I know I'm not eating exactly the way I should, I know I am anxious and stressed a majority of the time even with exercising, yoga, the Calm App on my phone, attempting to meditate...I could go on. I just want to quiet my mind and I haven't been super successful at it. I feel like whenever I share my rants, there is always someone else out there who is feeling that way or overthinking it like me. I hope that if you're struggling with temping, ovulation kits, fertility, or anything else, you can find some solace in the fact that you aren't alone. It's okay to talk about what's going on in your brain and your friends with either understand and be supportive or they aren't actually your friends. (Side note: I feel very fortunate to have friends that are like sisters that I can laugh with even through the shit times. I love them a lot.)
In person, I am trying so hard not to be the "Debbie Downer" that I feel like my insides are going to burst out of my chest. This is not to say that my life isn't great. I am incredibly fortunate to be an employed white female in America with a husband I love, one crazy (yet amazing) daughter, the most laid-back dog you'll ever meet, and our dream home complete with a pool! So, what is my damn problem and why can't I just get the F over it?! I ask myself this daily...
A major part of my struggle lies in not being able to give my daughter a sibling yet. You see, I am reaching that dreaded age of 36. Many people would have you think that 36 year olds are just dried up and incapable of having healthy, happy babies because their eggs have just disappeared into some black hole somewhere and are no longer thriving. Well, that isn't the case for me. All of my "levels" are completely normal and there is no real reason for my "infertility" right now. Great! So how come I can't just magically pop out another baby?
It's so stupid, but when I was in college, I had my palm read in Baltimore. This woman told me that I would be very fertile. Well, I would like to go back in time and slap her! This information made me so worried about getting pregnant in college that birth control was like a religion and I assumed that once I stopped taking it, I would just sneeze and be pregnant. Part of me wishes I would've just thrown caution to the wind and used my "fertile" years less wisely. (Disclaimer: If you are between the ages of 16 and 21, USE PROTECTION and birth control. I really wouldn't have wanted to be pregnant any earlier than age 30 looking back on it. I am just being sarcastic and slightly bitter.)
My heart breaks every time my 2 year old asks for a baby sister. It is like a blow right to the gut. I know she has no concept of what it takes to create a baby, let alone where they come from, so in her sweet little brain, they just swoop down from the sky Boss Baby style and she wonders why one hasn't arrived yet. I pray all of the time that I will either be able to produce the sibling she so badly desires or that I will be able to accept the fact that my daughter may end up being an only child. I know she will be just fine if that has to be the case, but I want for her to have that relationship. Even though my younger sister and I didn't always get along with each other, it's like a security blanket to know that you have someone else you can turn to when your parents are driving you nuts or you just need to talk about how childhood has messed you up...sorry Mom and Dad. ;-) I hope and pray that she will receive the sibling she desires at some point in the near future.
On the other hand, I also have a crazy amount of anxiety about going through another pregnancy and birth experience. You see, getting to have my daughter in the first place wasn't an easy road. I had a miscarriage prior to her which required me to have a D&C. This was a "routine" procedure that was supposed to be easy; however, I had complications which required me to have a blood transfusion and a stay in the hospital...in the maternity ward no less (Calvert Memorial - you all really need to do better when dealing with Moms and loss...). After that lovely experience, I struggled for about a year to conceive my sweet girl. Pregnancy had its share of ups and downs. I actually lost weight my first trimester because I was so sick, then they thought I may have placenta previa which lead to many Dr's appointments until they confirmed that it had moved out of the way and was not an issue any longer. The last third of my pregnancy went rather smoothly. Aside from swollen ankles and weight gain, I was happy and still working out. BUT, then came labor. I went into labor while at work (I teach middle school, need I say more?). They had me wait it out until my contractions were about 2 minutes apart. I tried to explain to my Dr that although it was my first delivery, quick deliveries run in my family and I wanted to try to be seen as soon as possible. I made it through about a half day at work and was in labor for about 5 hours before I got to see the Dr. I wasn't dilated enough to send me to the hospital, so she wanted me to go home and wait. She sent us on our way with some prescriptions and my husband and I spent at least an hour at Wahlgreen's in Edgewater trying to get them filled. During this time, I continued to feel worse. I thought I was going to throw up, then came the bleeding. This scared me, but the Dr. said it might happen because they had checked me. After calling back 3 times, she finally told me to go to the hospital to be seen. When we got there, I was 7cm dilated...I told them! The scariest part was that my daughter's heart rate just continued to drop every single time I contracted. I knew something was wrong when people kept running in and out, but the nurses at AAMC were absolutely amazing. They remained calm, talked me through it, patiently gave me an epidural and then my Dr. told me we were going to have a C-section. Even though I wanted to have a "natural" birth, I wanted to have them do whatever they could to get the baby out safely. We were whisked away into the operating room and they did the procedure. It is impossible to put into words what it is like to be awake and be operated on. I was shaking uncontrollably and just praying that God would keep us all healthy and safe. When Aurora came out, she was completely white and not making any noise. Although they had initially said that they would let me see her before they closed me up and checked her out, that got nixed because she needed help. She wasn't breathing on her own and her APGAR score was super low. They swept her away to the NICU and the anesthesiologist took my face in her hands and calmly said "don't worry, they are going to take excellent care of her. She's going to be fine and you will get to see her soon." She did not have to do that, but she certainly made me feel better in a completely helpless situation. Eventually, it was determined that I had a placental abruption which caused the bleeding and my daughter's issues. Anyway, I am sharing all of this again because I hate that I feel like I shouldn't talk about it.
I adore my friends and family and I truly am happy for all of their pregnancies, babies, etc., but it is so freaking hard not to be jealous when they appear to simply decide to have a baby and it happens. I know now from my own experiences that miscarriages and pregnancy complications are so much more common than I ever realized, but I hate that it's so difficult to talk about it. I just always feel like there is a dark cloud in my brain over this one part of my life and it just keeps raining on the rest of it. So many of us are struggling and I feel like we all try to put up this facade that everything is perfect and wonderful. It's easy to do this on social media. I just have to check myself and remember that I have absolutely no clue what anyone else's life is truly like. Even if they tell me to my face, I still haven't been in their shoes.
I have always been prone to overthinking everything, so I am constantly being critical of myself when it comes to why I can't seem to get pregnant again. I know I'm too fat, I know I'm not eating exactly the way I should, I know I am anxious and stressed a majority of the time even with exercising, yoga, the Calm App on my phone, attempting to meditate...I could go on. I just want to quiet my mind and I haven't been super successful at it. I feel like whenever I share my rants, there is always someone else out there who is feeling that way or overthinking it like me. I hope that if you're struggling with temping, ovulation kits, fertility, or anything else, you can find some solace in the fact that you aren't alone. It's okay to talk about what's going on in your brain and your friends with either understand and be supportive or they aren't actually your friends. (Side note: I feel very fortunate to have friends that are like sisters that I can laugh with even through the shit times. I love them a lot.)
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