On August 29th, I took the test, and we discovered the seemingly impossible had finally occurred--God had answered our prayers and blessed us with a baby. I am 10 weeks, 2 days today!
Of course, I hyperventilated. :)
Being that blogging helps keep me sane, I've been a little INsane not being able to blog. So I kept up on my writing, and recorded my thoughts for each week. I'll post my 6 week musings for you here today.
September 12, 2009
6 weeks. I am 6 weeks (and one day) pregnant. I don’t think it has quite sunk in yet. God answered our prayers. Our prayers that were prayed for a very very long time by a quite large amount of people. He answered. Did I doubt that He would? No. Never. But I did, of course, wonder if perhaps His answer would forever be “wait”, and someday actually be “no”. So to have His answer be “yes” … well, that’s just still shocking for me.
We first found out when I was 4 weeks and one day pregnant. 4 weeks and one day.
That’s hardly pregnant at all! I flipped.
When I saw that positive pregnancy test on August 29th, I literally flipped. I walked to the kitchen, whispered Erik’s name and showed it to him. I remember saying I don’t trust it. I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. It’s gotta be the drugs. And then, I pretty much hyperventilated. I can’t do this, I can’t do this … that’s all I could say, that’s all I could think. I can’t do this—I can’t deal with a false positive, I can’t wait until Monday to have my blood tested, and if it’s really positive, and I really am pregnant …. I can’t do this. I can’t go through the waiting…again. I can’t reach 8 weeks …. again. I can’t get hopeful….again. I can’t dream of a baby….again.
As crappy as infertility is, and was,
I just didn’t think I could do pregnancy.
Isn’t that funny? It had been two full years, almost to the week, since I had last conceived. I had hoped, and wished, and prayed, and demanded, and screamed for pregnancy. Now I (most likely) had it, and I didn’t think I could do it. The fear was just too much. The unknown was just too much. At least with the unknowns of infertility, a little life wasn’t at stake. My child wasn’t at stake. But with pregnancy… the fear of never being pregnant, of never being blessed with a child of my own…that’s very different than the fear of losing another pregnancy. Or losing an actual child. Or having something be wrong with that child.
I was never naive enough to think that once I conceived, life would be bliss. That pregnancy would feel great, look great on me, and that I would never fear or worry again.
I’m not that stupid, people.
But, now that it’s here—the pregnancy—I’m daily coming to grips with all the new fears to consider. They don’t surprise me by any means—remember, I have been pregnant before, which actually makes my early pregnancy fears all the more compelling as opposed to someone who still has the innocent happy excitement of finding out—but they are something to reckon with.
For the past two weeks (have we only known two weeks?! It seems like so much longer … ) I kept urging myself to write. To jot down what I was thinking and feeling. I’ve been in such a fog. The first few days, I was paralyzed by fear. I laid on the couch and watched Friends (thank God for Friends!) I was so tired, had such horrible heartburn, that I didn’t want to do anything. I blamed my laziness on the fatigue, but when it comes right down to it, I’m terrified. I was paralyzed by fear. I remember at one point, on Labor Day, I think, saying to my mom that I really needed to just get on with my life. I needed to get back to living.
To find out I was pregnant for the first time in two years was almost debilitating.
Time stood still for about a week. I was literally paralyzed. I wasn’t sure how to move forward. Every minute was spent mentally battling between excitement and dread. The hope of “this is really going to happen” and the certain depression of “I’ve lost two…why would this one stick?”
Two days ago, my sister in law asked me how I was doing. I told her that that day had been a good day—I’d gotten up, worked out a little, had lunch with a friend and cleaned a bathroom before the fear caught up to me and landed me on the couch in front of Friends. So, it gets better.
Day by day, I’m learning to move forward.
To be excited! and to HOPE.
To hope and to pray, but to still live my life. I’m pregnant. Sometimes I just say it out loud and giggle. Sometimes I say it to Erik and we smile tentatively together.
Sometimes, sometimes, I think May 4th is going to be a really good day.
More to come!!! Thank you for all your prayers and support!!!!