Category: Baby Making

Twelve days until Chandler is due.  That is, of course, provided we make it until our due date.  I thought I would have blogged so much more about being pregnant, but as it turned out, I didn’t have a whole lot to report.  I feel spectacular, and Chandler is healthy. I don’t think anyone wants to read post after post about yoga, hiking, traveling, and eating donuts…right?  As big of a deal as it was for us to [finally] get pregnant, pregnancy has been a breeze.

Not that I haven’t had my moments.  Pre-pregnancy, Eric has known me to be laughing about something, and then it turns to tears, and back to laughing, and I’m not really ever sure why.  Except when this happened a few weeks ago, I did know exactly why I couldn’t stop laugh-crying.  Because I was so upset that once the baby came out I couldn’t put it back in.  This struck me as so absurd/terrifying that I was stuck in a practically eternal loop of laughing and crying.

I think because getting pregnant was our focus for so long, it took me quite some time to accept actually being pregnant.  I managed to hide it at work until almost 16 weeks.  And because I never felt anything, sick or otherwise, I just had trouble physically feeling pregnant.  I didn’t really start to embrace the whole situation until probably our 22-week ultrasound.  So, I didn’t really start thinking about actually having the baby until…now?

Yes, we went to a birthing class.  And a breastfeeding class.  And took a tour.  But tonight, we went to what Good Samaritan calls Labor Lab.  We got an extensive rundown of positioning, the bathtub, the crazy bed with the birthing handlebar.  And it occurred to me, tonight, OMIGOSH I will be back in here, in labor, very, very soon!  I know it’s bizarre, but for the first time I really thought about what that will be like for us.  Which room will be ours?  What will I be wearing?  Can I eat?  Am I going to have a laugh-crying fit from the certain impending torturous pain?

Will I miss being pregnant?  Yes, definitely.  I’ll admit it, I love strangers stopping to talk to me and grocery store checkout people asking if I need help out to the car.  I love having a completely different wardrobe comprised entirely of stretchy waistbands and dresses.  I love, love, love feeling Chandler move.  (The term “kick” is underrated.  This child already has my freakish limb strength and Eric’s disturbing level of stamina.)

So now I have 12 days to get used to the idea of labor and delivery.  While we were on the L&D floor, we saw a new family leaving to go home together.  Mom being pushed in a wheelchair, and Dad pushing baby in a stroller.  I peeked at the baby–so tiny, so new! I’ve held a thousand babies.  I’ve changed newborn diapers.  And still, my only thought was, OMIGOSH they send the baby home with us?!?!?!  I guess I should start thinking about that, too…

I’m 38 weeks pregnant and it’s a stagnant 96 degrees outside.  So, yes, I’m sitting on the floor of our half-finished nursery at 1:24 pm eating from a quart of Sweet Cow cookies and cream.

I am blessed.  I know this.  I feel AWESOME.  I can eat, sleep, exercise, socialize.  Two weeks ago I measured at almost 2 cm, and I’m still there.  Nary a contraction.  Chandler is as active as mama (and papa), kicking and squirming and hiccuping all day and night.  I want this week, or maybe the next two, to go on forever.  Every day, I am aware of how easy life is right now.  I can hike, go to yoga, go shopping, make phone calls, even work.  Eric can go for a 28 mile trail run on a Sunday.  (Not kidding, see below.)

Things are going to change.  For the best, ever.  We know that.  But for now, Eric really enjoys getting up at 3:30am to go to the mountains instead of to feed a baby.  And I really enjoy doing whatever I want whenever I feel like it.  But I think Chandler knows that.   The three of us are going to make the most of these next, last couple of weeks.  Selfish? Maybe. Sane?  I think so!

Eric and I have been extremely fortunate and undoubtedly grateful for the love our family and friends have shown us these last few weeks.  We have had three (!) baby showers, and counting.  It is truly unbelievable how many people have showered us with kind thoughts and generous gifts.  In April, we traveled to Cleveland where my mom threw us our first baby shower.  I sadly don’t have any photos from this event, but I think my sister-in-law does and so I will track them down in order to give that party its proper, full-detail, blog post dues.  All I’ll say right now is WOW…THANK YOU, MOM.

In May, my lovely girlfriends from Vail hosted a baby shower for me in downtown Denver. We had a delicious brunch and we all got to catch up after being apart for way too long. And we missed those of you that couldn’t make it!  Thank you, ladies!

Later in May, my amazing coworkers hosted a baby shower for me after school.  I had no idea how wonderfully crafty they are and how adorably cute the shower would turn out! As we don’t know if we’re having a boy or a girl, they decorated the party in a gender-neutral black-and-yellow bumblebee theme.  Since donuts have been my favorite part of being pregnant, they made sure to get Krispy Kremes, striped in black and yellow, with chocolate covered pretzels pushed in to look like bumblebee wings!

We played some fun games and enjoyed all of the delicious food.  I really couldn’t believe the generosity of our staff, either.  The pile of gifts was almost embarrassing (almost!) Perhaps the cutest gift came from the almost-all-male Social Studies department.  In what appeared to be a cupcake box, I found onesie “cupcakes” rolled up with teeny-tiny sock “icing!”  Genius.

Of course, this shower would not have been possible without these beautiful colleagues:

Thank you, thank you, thank you to my awesome special education team for putting this together.  Chandler thanks you, too!

I’ve been getting pretty consistent feedback that I’m big.

• “You’re not due until August? Really?!”
• “Are you sure there’s only one in there?”
• “You’re waddling!  Must be getting close!” (there will be a follow up post on this one…)

My doctor is on the other end of the spectrum, claiming that since I’m “so tall and skinny it just makes me look big.”  She gets bonus points for her bedside manner, by the way.  At our 22 week ultrasound the technician mentioned Chandler has large feet, but in all other ways our baby is normally sized.  Here are a few photos of my belly!

 

We had another doctor’s appointment today.  Chandler is growing and all is well!

 

I started showing a couple of weeks ago, right before my birthday.  Fortunately, it’s winter, so it’s been easy to hide underneath sweaters.  And God Bless leggings.  Fashion is on my side.  Here is a picture from Saturday, February 22nd.

On Sunday, I could have sworn I was bigger than the day before.  Katie remarked, “Wow!  You’re really carrying low!”  And today, Monday, it became completely obvious to complete strangers that I am totally and completely pregnant.

Could also be the box of Samoas a Girl Scout made me buy.

 

 

A lot can happen between two birthdays.  On Eric’s birthday, November 10^th, we got the green light for IUI.  On my birthday, today, February 13^th, we’re announcing that we’re just about 16 weeks pregnant.

YAY!  That means a due date (or as I like to think of it, 20 day window) of August 4^th.

I’m sure many people have figured this out, seeing as how we posted our story and then followed up with pretty much nothing.  Sorry about that!  We have known since November 22^nd that the IUI was successful.  But we felt that we couldn’t be too careful, so we kept our secret as long as we could.  We did tell our families over Christmas at 8 weeks, which I was nervous about because 8 weeks is early to share for someone with a history of miscarriage.  But there was no way I could pretend to drink that much holiday wine, beer, and booze for so many days without someone catching on.

The weeks went by, and I never felt sick, never felt tired, never had to miss work.  I also didn’t look pregnant (ok, maybe a little, but that also could have been Christmas cookies and my new love for doughnuts).  Having already established that I drink gin & tonics, it was easy to drink soda water with lime when out with friends.  I kept on going to yoga and I kept on skiing.

I also had to take Crinone, Estrace, Folgard, Levothyroxine, and a prenatal to support our pregnancy.  I’ve since weaned off the progesterone and estrogen, but will remain on the Folgard (for MTHFR) and Levothyroxine (for thyroid), and of course, prenatal vitamins, for the duration of pregnancy.

We’ve had several appointments and everything about the baby is right on track.  We’ve had 4 or 5 ultrasounds (side benefit of fertility clinics!) and seen our bean waving at us, doing backflips, and beating his or her miniscule heart.  The doctor has assured us we have no reason to worry.

So now, finally, we can write our baby blog.  Eric and I are absolutely thrilled.  We think Lilly knows, too.  She lays her head on my belly sometimes and I can tell she is protective and maybe a bit nervous.  We are looking forward to the next few months of preparation, adventure, and rest.  I promise I’ll be better about writing now that I’m not keeping any secrets!

Welcome (Back) to Hollewood!  Now for the moment you’ve been waiting for (or perhaps never, ever thought about)…is this a baby blog?  The short answer is yes, someday, it will be.  The long answer is actually pretty long.

Eric and I started trying to have a baby after I finished graduate school (the 2^nd time) in May 2012.  We had no reason to believe anything was amiss, and proceeded in the usual way.  In January 2013, we found out we were pregnant!  Unfortunately, our joy only lasted about three days before I realized I was miscarrying.  Miscarriages are actually quite common (ask around) and we didn’t think much of it.  I was only 6 weeks.

In May I thought I might be pregnant again, but wasn’t.  I went to the doctor, she ran some tests, and determined I was hypothyroid and put me on Levothyroxine.  Some miscarriages stem from issues with the mother’s thyroid, so this was a step in the right direction.  We decided to just live our life and see what happens.  I visited a physical therapist for Mayan Abdominal Massage and set up acupuncture appointments (thank you, livingsocial).  Also, we chose to run another marathon (#8 for me and #3 for Eric!) in the meantime.

Eric bravely manned up and went and got his sperm tested over the summer at the urging of some of our friends who have also gone down this road.  His soldiers are mostly fine, but some of them aren’t swimmin’ too good.  Still, he’s not shooting blanks.  That’s not the problem.

In August I was certain I was pregnant again, but tests showed that I wasn’t.  I’m not much of a hypochondriac, worrier, or overly emotional person, but I began to think something was wrong.  We are so healthy.  Why was it taking us more than a year to conceive?  Our marathon was September 14^th, and we scheduled an appointment at the fertility clinic for shortly after.  Incidentally, running a marathon has nothing to do with anything, for me.  I’ve been running for 11 years and I run slowly and injury-free.

We entered the fertility clinic consultation appointment as fairly typical clients:  young 30s, active, healthy.  Our doctor recommended a usual course of treatment:  “super-sperm” vitamins for Eric, blood work and ultrasounds for me.  But something I said about my cycle (I don’t need to be too graphic here) intrigued the doctor and he immediately ordered me to have a hysteroscopy (NOT a hysterectomy!  No removals) and a detailed ultrasound with saline.  He was sure I had fibroids.  I don’t.  Oh, and those saline procedures…painful.  Very.  I cried.

Blood work revealed I tested positive for MTHFR, a fairly common genetic disorder that has to do with folic acid (which we all know is responsible for promoting baby brain growth).  But not a sole culprit of infertility.  Another medicine:  Folgard.

November.  Back to the fertility clinic to meet with the doctor and discuss our options.  He also gave us some news that was nice to hear in person rather than over the phone from a nurse.  As it turns out, my eggs are old.  32 years old!  Beard of Zeus!  Yet, it’s true.  And my eggs, they’re not as plentiful as they once were.  The doctor tells us our best bet will be…IVF.   [IVF=In Vitro Fertilization; sperm meets egg in a petri dish, fertilized eggs get implanted in the uterus.]  We can try IUI, but it won’t give us our best chance.  [IUI=Intrauterine Insemination; basically a glorified turkey baster.]  Or we can keep trying at home, but if I do get pregnant, what if something happens again and we don’t know about the pregnancy right from the very beginning?  The odds are pretty slim we can create a viable baby on our own.

The cost difference between IUI and IVF is about $20,000.  Yep.  Twenty. Thousand. Dollars.  So, we’re probably going to go with the economy package first.  I mean, I don’t throw away wrinkly five-cent jalapenos.  Of course we’ll go the discount route when trying to have a baby.  So that’s the story of why this still isn’t a baby blog, but kind of is.  I’ll update when there’s updates.  Otherwise, Eric and I are just fine.  It seems that we know a statistically impossible number of couples dealing with fertility issues, so we don’t feel alone.  We’re very hopeful.