Today, I walked into the familiar as a very unfamiliar person. I stepped foot into my ob/gyn’s office for the first time as a pregnant person. My husband, sitting next to me, remarked what I’d always cringed at, “Wow. There are a lot of pregnant women here.” No wonder I was depressed every time I had to get a pap smear, or worse, a blood test to confirm that I was, in fact, not pregnant.
Strangely, I didn’t feel that different. I still looked at the big bellies and thought, hmmm… maybe one day. I didn’t think, oh, I’m one of them now.
The doctor visit itself was great. I love our ob. First things first, he did an ultrasound. Much less fancy than the fertility clinic I’d been going to. The baby popped up and did a big kick. The doctor remarked, “Wow, that was a big kick. I bet you it’s a boy.” (I was just so thankful to see a baby still in there). And then we saw the heartbeat. We didn’t get to hear it or measure it, but the dr. thought it was around 150-160. I’m still measuring a day behind — so 10 weeks, 6 days. I’m 11 weeks, 0 days today.
We told the doctor all about NEDC and our embryo adoption. He was just so cool about it all. After working with him for just about 3 years now, he was just so happy to see us pregnant. He even remarked, “We’ve done just about everything with you, haven’t we?” as he scanned through my chart. Tygh and I just groaned and nodded. What a long and weary road it has been to get to this harvest ground.
Funny tidbit: I can no longer button my pants. I’m relegated completely to stretchy pants. People have noticed. I no longer count being fashionable as one of my traits. So, as you can imagine, I turned around when they weighed me. I didn’t want to see that dreaded number. And then, the nurse said, “Well, I won’t tell you what your number is, but I’ll tell you it’s the exact same number as it was when you were here last (like 6 months ago).”
Hmm… not really sure how to take that one…
We have another ultrasound after Thanksgiving, and then a 15 week ultrasound, followed by the big 20 week ultrasound. The next ultrasound is where they can measure a bunch of things on the baby to see if it may have downs syndrome. Tygh and I have talked briefly about it, and we don’t think we’re going to ask for that measurement. First, it won’t matter what they say — it doesn’t change our plans about having this baby. And second, our donors had the same test performed on their twins. For their daughter, the doctors thought she had downs syndrome because of the measurement. So, the entire pregnancy, they were preparing for a downs baby. She came out perfectly healthy. I don’t want to go through that agony if the only way to really know is when the baby comes out. (Please don’t read this to think that I think having a downs baby would be agony — it’s preparing and planning for something when it turns out you didn’t have to — that’s the agony).
I’m a grateful mess. Grateful because of the obvious. A mess for other reasons. I just escaped a bladder infection (took a bunch of meds before it got bad); have been on anti-nausea meds, which makes me “infrequently void;” eating a ton of fiber to counteract that issue; had a minor freak out because I learned I’m not supposed to eat lunchmeat (3 turkey sandwiches too late); I walk funny because of all the bruising on my bum; and I frequently have to go to my car at work just to get some rest. All this while being so grateful for this God-given gift, and yet trying to function in life.
I have been able to wean off the estrogen pills, but am still two shots a day with the progesterone. I have another blood test tomorrow to see if my body is starting to produce it on its own (oh, please, Lord!). I catalogue the awful thoughts that we’ll be on PIO shots until Christmas, or, gulp, for the whole 9 months. (You see how scary my mind is?)
But the biggest thing is that I’ve learned this pregnancy doesn’t satisfy. It’s not fulfilling. For as long and as much as I’ve wanted this — it is NOTHING compared to what Christ has done to fill voids in my life. It was actually surprising and caught me a little off guard to realize this, and then when I did, I can’t believe I ever thought otherwise. I can’t believe how many times I tried to trump God by putting pregnancy on a pedestal.
Please don’t misunderstand — I want this pregnancy, and I already love this baby inside of me. But nothing, no baby, no pregnancy, nothing, can ever complete me the way my relationship and salvation with God does. It has taken this blessing for me to realize that the true gift is in just Christ Himself. That’s it.