How we got here

You know that commercial that says, "Having a baby changes everything"? I have always hated that. Mostly because when it came out, Tony and I were in the midst of trying to conceive and it was like a slap in the face. Since we were dealing with infertility and 4+ years of trying, I figure I was allowed to hate that commercial. This is the first time I've ever blogged about my experience. I wasn't sure if there was even a point, since now we have Eliana. She makes it all worth it. I don't think trying longer makes my parenting different. In fact, I almost feel like having her wiped away all of the anger and tears and heartache we went through to get her. Maybe that's why I need to blog it. It was an important time in my life. I know people who are still praying for their miracle. So maybe I need to write it all down so I don't forget what got me here.

Tony and I got married in 2002 and pretty much started trying right away. Well, I tried, he didn't prevent which is just as good to me. I knew it wouldn't be easy. Without getting into much detail, when you're a woman and something is missing every month and you're not pregnant, you know there's something wrong. I think I knew even before that. So we tried and I avoided the doctor. Frankly, I was scared. I didn't want to hear that there was something wrong with me. I thought they'd tell me I had cancer or something else just as terrifying. So I put it off and hid my head in the sand and took test after test praying I could just get pregnant and not have to go see a doctor. Sadly, no.

Then we moved to Texas (the first time) and I went to the doctor. I let go of denial and faced the crappy reality. I was broken and we needed help. So my doc (love her so much) ran tests and took blood and asked questions and I was diagnosed with PCOS. My ovaries have an attitude. She gave me 3 options: lose weight and hope that kicks my ovaries into gear, start taking metformin and hope that kicks my ovaries into gear, start taking metformin and clomid and hope that kicks my ovaries into gear. The whole losing weight thing wasn't appealing. Not because I didn't want to lose weight, but because I was stressed enough and didn't need the pressure of dieting and exercising and who am I kidding, I'm just lazy. And the clomid seemed scary. Like if it didn't work I'd be out of options quick. So we decided on the met.

I started taking it and ugh. The first couple of weeks is not fun. I won't go into it, but suffice it to say "ugh". But it started working. I started getting my "visitor" almost regularly. And month after month after month I still got negative tests. So that's how it went for 2 years. Then we moved to Washington. I met with another doc and had my records sent over. I told him I wanted the clomid, but he was an ass and made me wait until January. This is why I'm not a fan of men gyno's. That and they can not possibly understand. That may not be fair, but when it comes to my girly parts, equality does not come into play. So again with the negative tests month after month. Until January. We did the clomid. And I ovulated!! And it couldn't have been more perfect. And the test was still negative! Fucking pregnancy tests. And did I mention that Tony deployed right after that??? That was the last cycle we got for 6 months. Skip ahead 6 months to Tony coming home. We do the clomid again. And I ovualted so good. My ovaries were all cooperative and shit. And I loved them for it. And then Tony had to go out again for 3 weeks. Because, you know, 6 months wasn't quite enough and the Navy sucks.

So I was all alone again. My temp was still up. So I tested. And it was positive. And the next one was positive. And the next 2 were negative. Because of course it wasn't going to be easy. The next day I took 4 more tests and 3 were negative and 1 was positive. This wasn't looking good. And damn. So I waited 2 more days. And then I took 2 more tests. And they were both positive. And I wasn't tempting fate by taking any more.

I emailed Tony and told him he was gonna be a daddy. Sweet, I know. To be honest, that part didn't matter. We always felt that it didn't matter how we got there, just that we did. I had a doc's appt on base and they told me I really was pregnant. Then I had an appt with my gyno and he told me I was pregnant and showed me this:

I emailed that to Tony too. He printed it out and kept it on his desk. When he got home and we celebrated by packing up and moving back to Texas. We're a wild couple, I tell you.

That's our journey in a nutshell. A small nutshell. To really get it you'd have to add in an ocean of tears, a thousand fights, and a year of days that I hated every pregnant woman ever. I was bitter. I was pissed and bitter for a long time.

But now I have Eliana. She's perfect and beautiful and brilliant. I barely remember everything we went through to get here. It feels like she's always been a part of our family.

It makes me sad that there are still so many women waiting for their miracle. It makes me sad that my friend had to spend this week crying and angry. It isn't fair. She deserves her miracle. I hope that she is as lucky as I have been.

This is not where this post was supposed to go. I'm pretty sure I had intended to talk about parenting and throw in my nephew and the problem my sister is currently having with him and ask for internet advise. Guess I'll have to do that one tomorrow. Hopefully my nephew won't beat anyone up until then. And hopefully my sister's head won't explode. I'll keep you posted on that front.