how it all happened, the final installment

{part one}

{part two}

the road to motherhood, was long. i am not going to pretend that i have had the toughest struggle. the reality is, a LOT of women go through what i have been through and worse. miscarriage is INCREDIBLY common, as is infertility. the unfortunate thing is that many women feel ashamed or embarrassed and don't talk about it much, until long after they have gone through the experience. so, while i was going through everything, i felt so incredibly alone. absolutely isolated. remember, we weren't talking about it. so i didn't know how common my issues really were. and of course, now that bella is here, i can freely talk about everything i went through. 

my pregnancy wasn't terrible. but i was sick for most of it. i would wake up early to take joel in to work, with every intention of working out. i was determined to stay healthy through my pregnancy and keep my weight gain under control. i would drop joel off at PT (physical training, not physical therapy, for all you non-military readers), drive to the gym, and then.....sleep. in the car. in the parking lot. for an hour. then joel would call me to pick him up and i would groggily rouse and drive over. 

joel: "you fell asleep again, didn't you"

me: "yup. don't judge me. i'm creating life"

one morning, i was driving joel to work and was overwhelmed by a nauseas feeling. driving down the street (on base, so like 15 mph) i opened the door, stuck my head out and puked all over the road. then kept on going. this was very common for about the first 18 weeks. i hated it, because, like, who really enjoys throwing up? i lost 10 pounds, i slept a lot, and i felt all sick and vommy most of the time. my kitchen was full of ginger snaps, ginger ale, candied ginger, raw ginger. none of it helped. and i felt miserable.

but i was pregnant.  i was having a baby. so i complained and felt incredibly guilty. this was what i wanted, after all. 

for most of the first trimester, if you mentioned anything that had anything to do with meat, i would be sick for the rest of the day. joel got on a "homemade beef jerky" kick right around week 8. which meant our house constantly smelled like......meat. 

then we moved and i felt great, swollen ankles aside. even in the middle of a southern summer, carrying around an extra 15 pounds, i felt amazing. 

my morning sickness was gone, i could eat meat again (hallelujah!!), and i hadn't gained much weight. actually i was back at my pre pregnancy weight after dropping about 15 pounds from the first trimester. life was good. 

bella's birth was amazing. i was induced at 7 am and she was born at 7:31 pm. the worst part was that i hadn't eaten in over 24 hours, threw up about 32 oz of fluid (no one warned me about that......from all the fluids and the adrenaline, as i was pushing i was puking. it was very lovely) and it was sunday, so the chick-fil-a combo i was so excited about gobbling down was disappointingly absent (i lost track of the days and didn't realize until around 5:30 that is was sunday). so i settled for a big bacon classic combo (which is called something else, but i like calling it that) from wendy's. and when i say settled, i mean i scarfed it down with reckless abandon. 

bella latched on with no problem, and nursed right after her birth. and a couple of times after. then she stopped.

the night after she was born, she hadn't eaten for 12 hours. my nurse had been in and out, trying to help me about every hour. i was frustrated and the baby was frustrated, so they took her to the nursery to give us both a break. at around 3am, the nursery nurse came in and started to yell at me. 

nurse meanie: "why haven't you fed her!?"

me: "i've been trying to. every hour. for 12 hours."

nm: "well, obviously not hard enough. she needs to eat. i am going to take her into the nursery and give her a bottle"

me: "please don't. i really want to nurse her and i am afraid if she takes a bottle she won't nurse"

nm: "then keep trying. but don't let her fall asleep, because if she does, she won't wake back up"

me: stunned silence............

was this medical professional seriously suggesting that my child would DIE if she fell asleep before i could feed her? i started sobbing and told her to get out of my room and not come back. 

my nurse came in and i blubbered what had just happened. she told me to keep trying, but not to worry about her. then when she left, i heard nurse meanie yelling at my nurse about how i told her i hadn't tried nursing her all day and that the baby couldn't latch. which wasn't true. and my nurse knew it. 

around 7am, bella finally gave in and nursed for 45 minutes. while she was eating, the lactation consultant came in. i recounted the last few hours for her.

lc: "i am so PROUD of you! good job standing up for your baby. welcome to motherhood"

(by the way, this isn't a statement 

about nursing vs bottle feeding.

 it's a statement about ignorant,

 pushy night nurses who are on

 power trips and trying to take 

advantage of tired, new mommies)

how it all happened, part 2

(part one, here.)

i started having this reoccurring dream. i live on the beach (in a house. a house on the beach) and the wall facing the ocean is all windows. i'm standing in the living room, looking out at the water and the waves start building, and getting bigger and bigger. then i'm outside, standing in a huge crowd of people, in the grass where it meets the sand, and i'm screaming, yelling at everyone to run as the waves reach over the height of the building. that's usually all i remember. 

some interpretations of this dream are:

"Tidal waves or tsunamis suggest that you may be in a period of 

emotional upheaval. Anxiety,stress, and unconscious materials may be 

coming to the surface and affecting your daily moods."

and

 "Dreams of impending disaster generally indicate that the dreamer 

is feeling out of control. In the case of the tidal wave, this out-of-control

 feeling is often combined with the need to make a fresh start.."

which seems about right. emotional upheaval. feeling out of control. something that is supposed to be natural, that all women are supposed to be able to do, and i can't. i have no control. and it's a very emotional thing. have you ever seen a baby? have you ever seen MY baby?! 

of course, at the time, i just thought, never. i will never ever be able to have a baby. in a world where people strung out on drugs, living in squalor, rife with disease and no personal responsibility, are able to procreate (sometimes several times), and i, fiscally and  socially responsible, healthy and who WANTS a child more than anything in the world, can't. it just didn't seem right. it didn't seem fair. and of course, if you have ever been waiting to have a baby, you know that there is a lost murphy's law that says 

if you want a baby,

every woman in the world 

will be pregnant.

it's true. everyone around me was getting pregnant. but not me. 

we got accepted into the program at the hospital. that's where we pick up. so i go in for my first appointment. 

i tell them, "PCOS. we already know. we had tests."

do they care? probably not. because the office lady didn't know how to use a computer, remember? and there is no lab work.

so after some very awkward, and sometimes painful, tests, the verdict iiiiiis...........

"unexplained infertility"

whatever that means. i think they're saying, "we don't know what the hell is wrong with you and are processing WAY too many people today to REALLY care. we'll just pump you full of drugs and hope that something catches." 

so we get started. drugs, blood samples, etc. at this point, i was so desperate, that the idea of taking medication didn't seem like a bad idea. looking back, it might not have been the BEST decision, but it resulted in the best possible scenario, so i won't lose sleep over it. 

my first "cycle" was late. by 2 weeks. so naturally, we start thinking i'm pregnant. then one morning, aunt flow knocks on the door. and i welcome her in, with a little disappointment, but also a little hope, because that means we have something to track. until 8 am, when i have bled all over everything and am starting to feel light headed. i call the hospital, and they tell me to come in immediately. but not to drive myself. and hurry. so joel comes home and takes me in. 

i have to say, i kept telling him it was no big deal, i just needed to lay down. he INSISTED i call, and then that he come and take me in. i was in a little pain, but i was in "suffering for the cause" mode. stupid ::palm to forehead::

turns out, i had some ruptured cysts. and after a day in the hospital, and an interaction with an ignorant doctor (he said, "i got in military med so i could do cool stuff in the field, and i get stuck in OB. all military wives do is get knocked up." yes. military wives are the only ones who get knocked up. and creating life is SO not cool), i'm sent home feeling a little blue, both in the face and in the heart. 

more drugs. and failed ovulation tests.

we pass the "cycle starts here" mark on the calendar, again, and head in to get more drugs. i get the standard blood test and go to work.

the doctor (not the ignorant one. a really nice one. who has seen me cry no less than 3 times) says, "wait until tonight, if i don't call, take it (you're not pregnant), if i do call.......well. we probably won't have to worry about that"

i go about my business, spending the next 4 hours in a pool with other people's blessings, laughing and playing, when i want to huddle in a corner and sob. after work, i avoid my co-workers, because they don't know what i am going through and all they want to talk about is their latest unprotected romp, resulting in a possible "scare". and that hurts. 

i shower and get dressed, and hear my phone beeping. joel, probably, calling to tell me he's ready to go home. i check my message.

"hi justine, it's dr. sympathetic-shoulder-who-thinks-this-is-futile. um.....well.....i don't know how this happened (uh duh. you are in the medical field. you don't know how this happened?) but....well......congratulations. YOU'RE PREGNANT!" 

stunned silence.......................................................................

what? 

i crumple to the floor, in disbelief. but i am hesitant to get excited. it could be false. i've already had so many scares-a chemical pregnancy, ruptured cysts, lots and lots of drugs.....i can't start thinking now after all that, that this could possibly be real. 

i tell joel when i pick him up. and he doesn't believe it either. so we don't talk about it. we don't tell friends. we don't buy baby stuff. we don't even talk names. can you imagine? almost 2 years of waiting, we're finally there, i am SO excited, but i have to keep my lips sealed. for almost 6 weeks! 

at 10 weeks, we're sitting in the bowling alley on base, during a squadron function. my BFF who has the most precious little babies ever, comes over and says, "we need to talk".

you know how the story goes (if not, read that post i just linked to). we're pregnant too! and due on the same day. 

we slowly start telling people on mother's day. "happy mother's day!! you're going to be a grandma/great grandma!" 

at 12 weeks, we feel "safe enough" to tell all of our closest friends. and then the rest of the world. 

bring on the vom. because the first 18 weeks is full of morning sickness. that lasts all day. but i welcome it. because........

I'M HAVING A BABY!!

birth story, coming soon! don't worry, it will be the disney channel version. 

how it all happened, part 1

the waiting is the hardest part. i mean, it's all hard. but the uncertainty that comes with the slow movement of time is what really gets to me.

when we talked about having our first baby, we decided that we wouldn't tell anyone. it was really joel's idea. his reason was, if something happened, it would be hard to tell people. it made sense. because people are nosy. or they genuinely care. but answering the questions can be hard.

so we didn't. we kept it quite. for almost 2 years. and it was heartbreaking. right at the end of that time, i decided i needed a friend to confide in. so i told my closest friend. and i cried. and i felt a little better. but i still wasn't pregnant.

then i got a little depressed, which isn't exactly an aphrodisiac or anything. i got bitter and it was ugly.

every month, i calculated and charted and recorded. every month i waited. and waited. and then i would be late and i would get excited. i would psych myself out and think that every twinge of nausea meant i was knocked up. that if i felt bloated, or hungry, or craved something, i had myself CONVINCED that i was pregnant. then i would take a test, and it would be negative. and that was the frustrating part. because when your "monthly visitor" doesn't come for 3 months and you're still getting negative pregnancy tests, something is most likely lying. and as much as i hate it, the chemistry of pee is pretty well figured out. so my body was a lying, teasing wench.

i went to the doctor early on after having been off of my birth control for about 5 months. this was when i knew something was wrong. i broke down. because i knew something was wrong, but the doctors said i had to wait a year. because most people will get pregnant within a year. but when every month is off, a year is a long time. 

so i got another opinion.and in the first visit he said, "poly cystic ovaries. i know it" and he took some blood. his office was a little closet in an old building and he claimed he created the first at-home pregnancy test. which immediately qualifies him, right? i looked it up. it's true. he is this little old asian man who wears glasses so large that he looks like a cartoon character. he is hunched over and the florescent bulb in his exam room is half out and flickering. and his wife is the office manager, but she doesn't know how to use a computer.  it's all a little odd. but i keep going because he promises a pregnancy.

then a year comes, and i get accepted into the infertility program at the military hospital, and into an infertility study, which means everything is free. 

to be continued.........