A Happy Ending
I left for a while to do other things but thought I should update.
I noticed that the last day I posted was New Year's Eve, the day of my ultrasound to see if I had any eggs ready. It was the day before New Year's Day, the day I got my hSG shot to trigger ovulation, even though I only had one egg (and a grossly enlarged follicle on the other side that would turn into a 6cm ovarian cyst). Two days before I would drive, alone (as the Spousal Unit was travelling in the opposite direction for an out-of-state business trip), in tears, to the clinic at 8:00 AM on a frosty post-holiday morning, with a semen sample I almost tossed out of the window out of frustration and anger at the thought of wasting much of the upcoming new year to more futile treatments and heartbreak.
And it was 12 days before I would float in the pool at my gym and stare at the ceiling and realize that my life was not so bad... after all, I was floating in a pool on a Friday night after work without having to worry about childcare or feedings or even letting anyone know where I was. And I was floating in a pool with my waistline and no stretch marks and all my internal organs where they were supposed to be. I was going to be okay. And not "I was going to be okay" in the way we try to trick ourselves into thinking we're fine with something not happening so it WILL happen... I was actually okay. Sad but okay.
...And then I went home and peed on a stick.
And then I was pregnant.
I had been looking forward to pregnancy my whole life but it was horrible. I mean, really horrible. As in "I didn't think we'd make it" horrible, including (but not limited to) 8 days in late spring on the heart & lung unit of the hospital with severe sudden-onset pregnancy-related asthma and a lung infection, a 100-pound weight gain (in part to the IV steroids), 4 1/2 months of modified bed rest, and gestational diabetes. It really sucked. My mom had to move in with us for 2 months because I was too sick to take care of myself. By 37 weeks, I was so sick that my obstetrician gave me an amnio to make sure the baby was fully cooked, induced me for 25+ hours and finally went in after him with a C-section.
Baby is perfectly healthy, and is as easy a baby as the conception and pregnancy was difficult. He sleeps 12 hours a night at 2 1/2 months and is a happy, loved child. I am filled with love to the point where the pain of infertility has dulled... but I'll never be the same because of it. I realize how close I came to never having him. Baby will receive all of our attention, love and resources, since the Spousal Unit and I have sadly decided that we would not be able to handle going through all of that again.
But why would you play the lottery again after you've won the jackpot??
And with this, my TTC journey ends.
I noticed that the last day I posted was New Year's Eve, the day of my ultrasound to see if I had any eggs ready. It was the day before New Year's Day, the day I got my hSG shot to trigger ovulation, even though I only had one egg (and a grossly enlarged follicle on the other side that would turn into a 6cm ovarian cyst). Two days before I would drive, alone (as the Spousal Unit was travelling in the opposite direction for an out-of-state business trip), in tears, to the clinic at 8:00 AM on a frosty post-holiday morning, with a semen sample I almost tossed out of the window out of frustration and anger at the thought of wasting much of the upcoming new year to more futile treatments and heartbreak.
And it was 12 days before I would float in the pool at my gym and stare at the ceiling and realize that my life was not so bad... after all, I was floating in a pool on a Friday night after work without having to worry about childcare or feedings or even letting anyone know where I was. And I was floating in a pool with my waistline and no stretch marks and all my internal organs where they were supposed to be. I was going to be okay. And not "I was going to be okay" in the way we try to trick ourselves into thinking we're fine with something not happening so it WILL happen... I was actually okay. Sad but okay.
...And then I went home and peed on a stick.
And then I was pregnant.
I had been looking forward to pregnancy my whole life but it was horrible. I mean, really horrible. As in "I didn't think we'd make it" horrible, including (but not limited to) 8 days in late spring on the heart & lung unit of the hospital with severe sudden-onset pregnancy-related asthma and a lung infection, a 100-pound weight gain (in part to the IV steroids), 4 1/2 months of modified bed rest, and gestational diabetes. It really sucked. My mom had to move in with us for 2 months because I was too sick to take care of myself. By 37 weeks, I was so sick that my obstetrician gave me an amnio to make sure the baby was fully cooked, induced me for 25+ hours and finally went in after him with a C-section.
Baby is perfectly healthy, and is as easy a baby as the conception and pregnancy was difficult. He sleeps 12 hours a night at 2 1/2 months and is a happy, loved child. I am filled with love to the point where the pain of infertility has dulled... but I'll never be the same because of it. I realize how close I came to never having him. Baby will receive all of our attention, love and resources, since the Spousal Unit and I have sadly decided that we would not be able to handle going through all of that again.
But why would you play the lottery again after you've won the jackpot??
And with this, my TTC journey ends.
posted by DysLexie @ 6:48 AM
4 comments
