Two years ago, we were fairly early into our quest to become parents. I had been off the pill for a couple of months and we had just returned from a great vacation in Italy. This was back when we were still trying the old fashioned way (you mean, people actually get pregnant by having sex?). The vacation just happened to be timed perfectly over peak fertility that month and I was CERTAIN I was pregnant by the time we came home. I mean, a relaxing vacation with my man and KNOWING I was ovulating over that same time--that's how people get pregnant, right? By relaxing and going on vacation?
About a week or so after we got home, Mother's Day arrived and I got my period. That morning. On Mother's Day. We went to the museum and out to lunch that day with my parents and my grandma. I bitterly told my mom how ironic it was that I got my period on Mother's Day and I think she was probably surprised at how upset I was. We hadn't been trying that long, after all. Just a couple of months into the journey and I was already noticing just how many children and pregnant women there are in the world. They were swarming at that museum exhibit.
Fast forward two years and now I'm pregnant (oh, if only those two years had gone by as quickly as that sentence makes it seem). But this day is still difficult. I am still super aware of bumps and little kids everywhere-at the restaurant and on tv. And the advertising for Mother's Day just seems over the top. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm pregnant. I'm a mom. Even though they aren't in the outside world yet, I am caring for those little embryos inside me as we speak (as I type). I even had a little bit of lunch meat today and then realized "oops! I'm not supposed to eat that right now!" I keep thinking that at any moment I'm going to wake up in my bed and realize this was all just a dream. The pee sticks were negative, the beta was negative. I keep waiting to wake up, but so far it hasn't happened. I think this is going to take some getting used to.
Because I'm still obsessed with betas, I found a little program that made this chart:
Isn't it pretty? Too bad I couldn't find something similar for twin pregnancies so I could visualize where I might fall on that chart.
I haven't always been the best daughter. When I was little, I must have driven my mom crazy by hanging onto her leg shyly whenever there were other people were around. She literally had to drag me with her when she walked. She got used to this that at some point when stepping on the scale at the doctor's office, she couldn't believe how much weight she gained. Until she realized I was still hanging onto her leg. There was the time I decided to decorate the fancy bathroom wallpaper and my hair with a jar of vaseline (what, isn't shiny hair pretty? You didn't want to wash my hair 50 times to get it out?). There was that horrible Mother's Day trip to Alabama for a gymnastics meet where I was the most rotten kid in the world. The times I snuck out of the house. The times I disappointed her with things I knew I shouldn't have done. I could go on and on with this list.
And through it all, my mom loved and supported me, taught me lessons and helped me grow into someone who is ready to be a mom herself. She has put almost as much time, energy, shopping, thoughts, hope and emotion into our IF treatments as we have. She deserves for me to be pregnant just as much as I do. And I'm not sure I could have made it to this point without her.
Thanks Mom. Happy Mother's Day. I love you!
21 hours ago