Who Knew Getting Pregnant Was So Difficult And Why Didn’t You Tell Me

Truth be told, I am quite upset with my baby maker these days. Why is being a woman so difficult? I spent my entire youth trying not to get pregnant, only to be on a desperate baby rampage in my thirties.  Trying to get pregnant is a sensitive subject, I get it, but I am not afraid to speak about it.

Many women keep quiet about the trials and tribulations of getting pregnant, either out of embarrassment, pride, etc, so when difficulties happen with you, YOU start to feel like the problem. Why me? What is wrong with me? How are all these b*tches around me getting pregnant? Why is MY baby maker on strike?  These are my actual thoughts right now as a sit in Starbucks next to some pregnant chick.  B*itch.

Why is hers growing and NOT mine?
Why is hers growing and NOT mine?

The whole ‘trying for a baby‘ process is like a bad dream.   Scratch that, more like a freakin’ nightmare. Each month I jump on the crazy baby train begging to be dropped off in pregnant-ville, yet the a**hole conductor has yet to let me off. So here I am almost a year later holding my first class ticket without my glass of champagne.  This first class is complete rubbish.

When we first started trying, we were told to have sex every day after my period.  Then we were told doing this would only lower sperm counts, so we need to have sex every other day instead.  Then came my thyroid problem, so I was put on medication.  Then I was told my progesterone was low, which explained why my eggs were not able to attach to the uterine wall, resulting in a miscarriage. Next my doctor suggested I quit my job, because the stress was too much. Lastly, she told me I am getting old and only have a certain amount of eggs left.  Awesome!  Defending my eggs I blurted out, “But I still feel so young! Women have babies into their forties for Christ sake! I am only thirty -five, just turned thirty-five.”  My sensitive doctor replied, “But you are still thirty-five, let’s call it what it is.” She told me to get ovulation kits and try a couple more months before we had to meet again.

Not happy with your outcome Mr. Smiley!
Not happy with your outcome Mr. Smiley!

Equipped with all this information, I went to CVS to buy ovulation and pregnancy tests.  After I filed bankruptcy from my CVS bill, I downloaded the app, AESOP Fertility. This app tracks my monthly cycle.  It shows a green dot when my eggs are ready, and a red dot when I should be prepared for another month of heartache. Once my cycle starts, I have to rub progesterone cream on my hands nightly.  When the green dot finally shows, it was go time.

My husband doesn’t mind the beginning of ‘go time’, but wants to kill me by the end.  I constantly boss him around, “No, this way.  No, that way!”  After the deed I have to lay with my legs in the air and a pillow under my hips for twenty minutes.  TWENTY MINUTES.  Way to kill the fun. The worst part is when you stand up after those twenty minutes to go to the bathroom. Ladies you know what I am talking about. Vomit. 

The next few weeks are always a blur.  Any little hot flash, dizzy spell, hunger pain, twinge of the uterus I immediately think, I’m pregnant! When the time comes to take a test, it always shows negative.  From there the denial sets in.  Maybe it’s too early.  This test is wrong. I know I am pregnant! Then I take another test, negative again. I wait. A few days later the spotting starts.  Maybe the egg is implanting, I read you spot sometimes during this process. I wait.  The real bleeding starts. I then realize I am not pregnant, I just wasted all that money on those stupid pregnancy tests, and I cry.  I cry because my plan didn’t work. I cry because there is no baby. Finally, I cry because I know next month I will have to do this all over again.

Preg Test

If we don’t get pregnant soon, I have to take a pill which helps you ovulate, however increases your chances of multiples.  Great, just what I needed.  Sorry Kate, but ‘Holly Plus Eight’ doesn’t work for me. If that magic pill doesn’t work, I’ll have to start seeing a fertility specialist. Any specialist scares me.

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Everyone always says, “At least you already have your son.” Which is true, but I long for a bigger family and not getting pregnant hurts just as much, regardless of what number kid it is.  Plus, my son needs a sibling to keep him occupied while I write all these blog posts for you ladies!

Please send your good vibes and baby making mantras, as I can’t take many more months of this vicious cycle – sober, at least.

s

Much Love,

Holly

 

 

 

 

 

 

Round Two. Ding, Ding

Since Husband and I are beginning the daunting task of trying to get pregnant again, I have been reflecting back on my first pregnancy.  In doing so, I am hoping to pep-talk myself so I don’t chicken out.  Isn’t it amazing how women tend to forgot? We choose to only remember the good things.  I already shared some of my birth story (see: Push Gifts?), which was in comparison, relatively easy.

Overall, I would say my pregnancy was pretty easy too.  However, being the little nugget that I am with a giant husband, my son filled his ‘womb’ pretty quickly with his long legs. Carrying around this basketball player for nine months (it’s actually 10 months- those liars!), definitely took its toll on me some days.

In a quest to prepare myself for round two, I have put together the following list of things I am, and am not looking forward to.

Things I AM NOT looking forward to would include (TMI):

  • Peeing on myself when I sneeze, cough or laugh (Ugh)
  • Not being able to go poo (yes, women do this too)
  • Nose congestion (I think I had a borderline addiction to Afrin last time)
  • HUGE boobs that hurt with the slightest touch (or even breeze!)
  • Having Husband shave my legs because I can no longer reach them
  • Watching the scale climb, and there is nothing I can do about it
  • Awkward sex (No bueno)
  • Ugly clothes (VERY ugly clothes)
  • Waddling when I walk (Stupid round ligament pain!)
  • Giving up 9 (10) months of food and drinks I like (I am a foodie)

Things I AM looking forward to would include:

Still thinking……. Oh yes:

  • Excuse to take naps on weekends
  • All those hormones make my hair and nails pretty
  • All those hormones make you have really ‘dirtty‘ dreams. (Sorry Mom. Ladies you know what I am talking about.  I would wake up blushing!)
  • Feeling baby move (Pretty awesome)
  • Hearing the heart beat the first time (Emotional)
  • Anticipation and excitement of meeting the person you have already bonded with
  • Finally, and most important- the moment they are born.  There is nothing more amazing than that moment you hold your child for the first time.  It is indescribable, and brings me joy just thinking about it.

I am glad I finished with the ‘things I AM looking forward to’, as the excitement is starting to build.  So, who’s coming with me?  It is always more fun to be miserable with someone else, right?  Now back to baby making.

preggo

Push Gifts?

I think Hallmark needs to start spreading the word regarding push gifts. They made up Sweetest Day right? Why not Push Day? What are push gifts you ask? A gift, (preferably expensive), that women EARN after giving birth. Let’s be honest here, yes it takes two to tango, but women do all the work when making a baby! You lose your body, your thought process, your hair, your bladder, and during the actual birth: your dignity.

pushgifts

During labor, I made my husband promise to not look down there. I told him he would never look at me the same again, and I threatened divorce (being dramatic, of course), if he broke his promise. I also didn’t want to see the look of horror on his face, which would in turn, freak ME out. “Eyes up here buddy!” I yelled.

I was in labor a total of 18 hours, 10 of which I went drug free. Disclaimer: I wasn’t trying to be a hero by holding out on the epidural, I was just more afraid of a needle in my spine then I was of contractions. I waited until my pelvis felt like it was going to shatter before I begged for drugs. Finally at 7:00 pm, my little boy was here. I had my son at a teaching hospital, so as you can imagine, I had several medical students asking me questions like: “Describe your pain on a scale of 1 to 10.”

Really? I’m in labor idiot. Furthermore, my pain is a 12 because I am expected to answer ‘Captain Obvious’ questions from you!

No, I didn’t really say that but was definitely thinking it. I obliged like a good patient. Hopefully, in the grand scheme, witnessing my son’s birth was birth control to these young med students.

Three weeks after having my son, I was at home alone trying to figure out this mom business when my phone rings. It’s work. I answer to hear my bosses voice, “Hey, I know your son is only three weeks old, so you probably can’t come up, but your bonus check was just cut and…..” I cut him off, “I’ll be right there!” I wrap my son up and go wait for the bus on the corner. I was beyond excited. Not only did I work up until the DAY I went into labor, but also I had one of the busiest quarters of my career and no one was going to stop me from collecting my reward.

As I arrive at the office, everyone is amazed to see me and wants to hold the baby, chit chat, etc. I, on the other hand had different plans. I wanted my check! Once I collected my money, I got in a cab and went straight to Michigan Ave, the mecca of shopping in Chicago. I had my heart set on a pair of shoes for over 2 years now, but the guilt always kept me from buying them. As I walk into the store I b-line it for a beautiful pair of shoes lined with red soles. A woman cautiously approaches me as I am still suffering with post-baby hormones. Translation: I looked like a hot mess. My clothes were hanging off me because I couldn’t yet fit in my regular clothes. I was profusely sweating from hormones and I had circles under my eyes from lack of sleep. “May I help you?” She asked. “Yes, I’ll take these, size 6.” I command. My feet were still swollen and my hips still healing so I couldn’t even try them on. The sales woman, trying to make awkward conversation, says, “Will you be wearing these for a special occasion?” “No.” I reply, “These are my -I just pushed a baby out of my vagina- gift.” “Oh,” she says uncomfortably. “Well, congrats.” She hands me the bag and flashes a fake smile. I turn and walk out of the store feeling like a million bucks.

They say having a baby is equivalent to 20 bones in your body fracturing all at once. I have only worn those shoes a handful of times in the past two years, but when I do.. Momma looks good! Moral of the story: My push gift was worth every penny.

Trying is Trying (warning TMI)

tryingistrying
Contrary to what single men and women think: trying for a baby is miserable! With my son we started trying by not trying to not have a baby. You know, very organic, carefree, la vida loca!! While on our honeymoon (taken two years after we got married, because the wedding burned holes in our pockets) in Spain, I started to feel nauseous so I immediately ran to the Farmacia, as I was certain I was pregnant! As I am roaming back to the hotel down La Rambla, my brain starts to panic:

HOLY SH*T, could this be? Am I ready for this? Will my kid think I am a lunatic too? Will my career suffer? Will Husband think I am fat? Am I having buyer’s remorse? F**K, I just spent the past two weeks drinking enough to kill a small animal! My baby already hates me and is probably drunk….! Stop talking to yourself these Spaniard’s are going to think you are some crazy American!

Much to my surprise, after a few minutes of waiting and trying to decipher the instructions in Spanish (Spanish-Spanish, not American-Spanish), the results were clear: NO EMBARAZADA. There it was, SHOUTING at me that my baby maker had failed.

Suddenly I was sad. The thought of drunken baby kind of made me smile. Now that I had a taste of what it might have been, I was hooked. And when my mind is made up, I make sh*t happen. Poor husband became a victim of my mission! I barked, “Listen up! From this day forward we are having sex everyday until this baby maker makes a baby, got it!” He obliged. I’m not sure if it was out of excitement or out of fear of the crazy lady, a.k.a., me.

Fast-forward a month. I am walking through the grocery store, have a dizzy spell and eat it. By eat it, I mean, I fell so hard and so ugly, you would have thought an invisible linemen from the Chicago Bears tackled me. I walked to the car frazzled, and called my doc to schedule an appointment. I tell her I am getting old and forgot how to use my legs.

When I get home, I think: what the hell, might as well. I grab a pregnancy test and before I can even flush, the stick has TWO LINES! I run out waving it in the air to husband. He jumps and exclaims, “I DON’T KNOW what that means!” I yell, “WE ARE PREGNANT!” In my head, I thank baby maker for answering my prayers. Husband grabs two champagne glasses, fills them with orange juice, and runs over to me to toast as we both are crying. I proclaim, “This will be a boy, and we are naming him Sebastian, my saint.” Was this rollercoaster worth it? Absolutely! And I will be doing it again.