Today I am four weeks pregnant.
After all this time, I never thought those words would be written down here. My heart is a conglomeration of happiness, disbelief, fear, and excitement. I want to be so cautious that I listen only to the fears, but at the same time I want to abandon all fear and just embrace the happy.
I'm pregnant.
It's very hard for me to say those words out loud.
I can't believe it happened.
I'm over the moon that it happened.
I feel crampy and my boobs are sometimes tender and hurt. My hCG levels have been tested twice and they keep rising. Occasionally my stomach does some twists and turns and these hormones have got me weepy at the strangest things.
I love it. And it's scary.
A tiny onesie is hanging in our room and it reads "Future Captain" with a Star Trek vessel bellow the words.
Hopefully in March our baby will be wearing that onesie.
Hopefully in March, we'll be holding our miracle in our arms surrounded by all our friends and family.
There are so many fears, but tonight all that matters is that my womb is no longer empty.
We're going to have a baby.
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Today I had my 5 week hCG level test (yes, 5 weeks!) and my numbers came back at a 6,000. Wow.
We are left wondering if there are two babies nestled inside of me or just one baby. Either option is one we welcome with open arms. :-)
I scheduled our first ultrasound for next week and butterflies were coursing throughout my body and mind. It will be 6 weeks and we'll get to see our tiny miracle. It's still a shock. A beautiful shock.
I've had a few days this week where I sank into sadness. Worried that our 6% chance baby wouldn't make it or that my blood type will make it's tiny life harder. Fear sat with me on all the things that could go wrong. It went to all the places that scare me to my core. I don't want to lose this baby.
We have fought so freaking hard to stand here today and I am so scared that the happiness we feel and are experiencing will be ripped away. I am afraid that once again we will be made to look like fools for being so happy.
N keeps telling me that everything will be okay. This is our baby. He kisses my belly and sits in bed with me picking out names for our little boy or girl or little boys or girls. It's beautiful and incredible. I know that he is going to make an exceptionally fun, kind, loving father to our babies.
I don't want fear to control me here. I have waited 3 long, devastating years and I want to soak in the happiness and breathe in the beauty of what is happening.
I can't wait to see our baby next week. I'm pretty sure I'll sob the moment I see that little miracle.
Once we see our baby, we'll start spreading the word. Word of mouth only. I don't want a Facebook announcement. I know how horrible and sad that feels when another person is having the very thing you desperately want and dream to have. I don't want to be apart of that FB shame game.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tomorrow is the end of my 6 weeks. So strange to think that I will be 7 weeks pregnant.
This week we got to see our sweet angel for the first time. I started panicking the night before that instead of seeing a single baby or twins that we wouldn't see anything. I had to choose faith instead of fear that night.
We both walked in expecting to see Baby Spawn and dissolve into tears, but when we saw our tiny blob our hearts just melted into a happy sigh and a shout of "Finally!!".
I can't begin to describe the incredible beauty of seeing that ultrasound.
The past 3 years have only show me cysts and scarring and that Wednesday, I saw something I had given up hope on ever seeing. Breathtaking.
The doctor said baby was looking healthy and strong. What a good baby. :-)
And we got to hear the heartbeat. The Heartbeat! It was precious and once again breathtaking.
The ultrasound pictures are on our fridge. Every single time I walk into the kitchen I can't help, but smile like a goofy, lovesick woman. I love looking at our baby.
So far symptoms are: sore boobs, being very tired, wanting to eat all the time, cramping, and occasional stomach flips.
Can I just fast forward to the moment when my angel is finally in my arms. March cannot come soon enough.
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Weeks 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12 have been wonderful.
I have the tiniest bump, but I keep expecting every morning to wake up to a bigger bump. Hasn't happened yet though. :-) Today is my first prenatal appointment and I'm nervous and excited. There are so many questions in my head, but I have no idea if I'm asking important questions or even the questions I should be asking. First time mom probs, I suppose.
It's so strange that I'm coming to the end of my first trimester. Strange and amazing and beautiful.
Cravings consists of mac and cheese and donuts. Not a bad mix. :-)
Aversions mainly consist of cupcakes. Yep, I said cupcakes. Needless to say, that hurts my cupcake heart. I tried a cupcake when I went on vacation to New York last week and proceeded to toss my cupcake up. It was a sad, disgusting moment. Nate is hoping Baby is a pie lover.
The Ramblings of a Confused Muse...
The Muse Writes...
Tuesday, September 8, 2015
Miracles Do Happen
I love this picture so much. It captures something I want to hold onto forever.
The only caption I can think of when I look at our faces and remember the emotions of that moment is: "Miracles do happen".
3 years of tears and grief and waiting.
And now an explosion of light and happiness when the darkness was quickly enclosing around us.
It felt like the end of the movie credits was about to happen and then someone just inserted a new reel of film before we could see the words "the end".
It is a miracle.
Our miracle.
Our Baby.
March 2016
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Footsteps for Fertility 5K
Dear Family and Friends,
Most of you probably are aware that Nathan and I have been trying to conceive, but may not be aware that this journey has been a three year struggle. We’ve waited, prayed, hoped, taken various medications, and have undergone surgery. We’ve been to two fertility doctors and just this year received a disheartening diagnosis. It would be an understatement to say that this journey has been difficult and disappointing.
This year we’ll be faced with a heart-wrenching decision to end our pursuit in conceiving naturally and begin looking at other options that might be available. Before we go down that path, we will be participating in the Footsteps for Fertility 5k.
It takes place September 25, 2015 at 6pm in Eisenhower Park. We have created a team (Team Nerd Herd ) during the registration process so that our friends and family can participate with us.
It would mean the world to us if everyone would join us that evening to walk or run for the baby we hold in our hearts. With every registration each person will receive one complimentary ticket that may be entered for us to possibly be awarded a fertility grant. The process of awarding the grant is by random selection, but regardless of the outcome having the support of our friends and family is the most important award we could ever receive.
If you are out of town, busy that night, or dislike walking/running for a 5k you can still support us by taking part in the “Sleep-in for Fertility” option. And even though you are not participating in the event you will still receive a registration packet which will include a ticket for the fertility grant.
To support us all you need to do is go to http://footstepsforfertility.org/events and register for the event in Texas, our team name is Team Nerd Herd. If you have any questions please feel free to ask either Nathan or myself.
We love every single one of you and thank you for your prayers and love.
Much love,
Mal and Nathan
Labels:
cool things,
crazy dreams,
heart thoughts,
infertility
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Mother's Day is coming up very quickly and I am sitting in another batch of emotions from another failed pregnancy attempt.
Today I was thinking once again about how this might be my new reality. The reality where I never get pregnant and never get to experience everything I've dreamed of. The reality of where my friends will get pregnant and have babies and I'll have to be "happy" for them. The reality of those uncomfortable conversations that result in the "I'm pregnant and I didn't want you to find out from somewhere else.". The reality where all my sister-in-laws have had and are having the experience of providing grandchildren to the grandparents. The reality of when family pictures are taken there are new babies every time except for mine.
I don't like these realities.
They just make me hurt inside.
I want a happier reality.
Maybe someday I'll get a better reality, but until then these are the only realities in front of me.
Monday, April 20, 2015
TWLOHA's Run For It 5k
This past Saturday I completed TWLOHA's "Run For It 5k". The actual 5k takes place in Florida, but thankfully they know not everyone can make it over there for one day so they facilitate a virtual 5k for everyone to participate in their own hometown.
I've been walking and working on running these past two months. The walking part has been easy for me, but the running has been pure evil. I hate it. Either my legs give out on me or my lungs. After a month of trying to get a slow run for just 0.5mi, I finally did it! Well, just for one day. Everyday after that I couldn't seem to get the endurance back up. It's been exhausting and frustrating and discouraging, but I keep working on it.
The day of the race I woke up at 7:30am, hoping that it wouldn't be raining during my walk/run. I crawled out of bed tired and blurry eyed from falling asleep at 3am, slipped into my clothes, pulled on my shoes and stretched. I selected my "You Can Do It!" playlist and quietly exited the house.
It seemed to be a sleepy morning for everyone that Saturday. Usually there are folks out mowing their lawns or kids playing outside, but the whole time I was out there I saw maybe two cars driving by and one person grabbing their mail. With the cool, cloudy weather it felt mysteriously enchanting.
That day I decided to push myself and really run like I hadn't run before. For every two to three minutes I walked I would need to run for exactly one minute. It wasn't easy, but I did it regardless. Before I knew it, I had hit the 3.1mi mark at 42 minutes! I marked it down and kept going... I wanted to see if I could make it to 4 miles. As I rounded the corner on the last street, I looked up at the big hill (more like mountain!) I had to go over before I could run downhill straight to our house.
Each step got harder to take and my breathing wasn't as well regulated as I had been maintaining it so far. "Afterlife" by Ingrid Michelson came on and tears formed in my eyes. I was almost done. I had done the race and had kept going. My body had carried me this far and was going up the big, dreaded hill without faltering. The same body that had accomplished this so well was the same body that is dealing with infertility. This body of mine suffers a heartbreaking loss every month without fail. This body that has a 6% chance of getting pregnant is the same body that found the strength to run bravely. How is it possible? I was thankful for what it could do in that moment and grieving what it hasn't been able to do these past three years.
That day I was running for two things: my (and other women's) journey with Infertility and my journey with self-harm. Two very big things that I have been fighting.
In those 4 miles I wasn't able to suddenly get pregnant or have absolutely no desire to hurt myself, but in those 4 miles I was able to remember that the fight to stay alive was worth fighting.
This year I'm going to try fighting for me. I have a 10k, another 5k, and a half marathon to complete this year. And in July, I'll be purchasing my ticket to participate in Disney's Princess 10k for next year. There is so much emotionally tangled with the Disney one. This fight is hard and it's exhausting and most of the time I have to struggle to believe that I am not fighting a losing battle. One way I'm "guaranteeing" my entry into next year is to plan something big, different, and exciting. Disney's Princess 10k is perfect for that.
I don't know what the rest of this year will look like, but I know that I'm a little stronger and I'm just trying to take it one day, one race at a time. It's all I can do right now and it'll have to be enough.
I've been walking and working on running these past two months. The walking part has been easy for me, but the running has been pure evil. I hate it. Either my legs give out on me or my lungs. After a month of trying to get a slow run for just 0.5mi, I finally did it! Well, just for one day. Everyday after that I couldn't seem to get the endurance back up. It's been exhausting and frustrating and discouraging, but I keep working on it.
The day of the race I woke up at 7:30am, hoping that it wouldn't be raining during my walk/run. I crawled out of bed tired and blurry eyed from falling asleep at 3am, slipped into my clothes, pulled on my shoes and stretched. I selected my "You Can Do It!" playlist and quietly exited the house.
It seemed to be a sleepy morning for everyone that Saturday. Usually there are folks out mowing their lawns or kids playing outside, but the whole time I was out there I saw maybe two cars driving by and one person grabbing their mail. With the cool, cloudy weather it felt mysteriously enchanting.
That day I decided to push myself and really run like I hadn't run before. For every two to three minutes I walked I would need to run for exactly one minute. It wasn't easy, but I did it regardless. Before I knew it, I had hit the 3.1mi mark at 42 minutes! I marked it down and kept going... I wanted to see if I could make it to 4 miles. As I rounded the corner on the last street, I looked up at the big hill (more like mountain!) I had to go over before I could run downhill straight to our house.
Each step got harder to take and my breathing wasn't as well regulated as I had been maintaining it so far. "Afterlife" by Ingrid Michelson came on and tears formed in my eyes. I was almost done. I had done the race and had kept going. My body had carried me this far and was going up the big, dreaded hill without faltering. The same body that had accomplished this so well was the same body that is dealing with infertility. This body of mine suffers a heartbreaking loss every month without fail. This body that has a 6% chance of getting pregnant is the same body that found the strength to run bravely. How is it possible? I was thankful for what it could do in that moment and grieving what it hasn't been able to do these past three years.
That day I was running for two things: my (and other women's) journey with Infertility and my journey with self-harm. Two very big things that I have been fighting.
In those 4 miles I wasn't able to suddenly get pregnant or have absolutely no desire to hurt myself, but in those 4 miles I was able to remember that the fight to stay alive was worth fighting.
This year I'm going to try fighting for me. I have a 10k, another 5k, and a half marathon to complete this year. And in July, I'll be purchasing my ticket to participate in Disney's Princess 10k for next year. There is so much emotionally tangled with the Disney one. This fight is hard and it's exhausting and most of the time I have to struggle to believe that I am not fighting a losing battle. One way I'm "guaranteeing" my entry into next year is to plan something big, different, and exciting. Disney's Princess 10k is perfect for that.
I don't know what the rest of this year will look like, but I know that I'm a little stronger and I'm just trying to take it one day, one race at a time. It's all I can do right now and it'll have to be enough.
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Some of My Favorite Things
26. Watching Hallmark Christmas movies while my dogs are keeping me warm
27. Wrapping Christmas presents
28. Watching Doctor Who with Josie
29. Preparing my Christmas Eve dinner menu
30. Turning on all the Christmas lights
31. Doing random acts of kindness for people
32. Leggings
33. Being able to curl my hair with a straighter (big accomplishment for someone like me!)
34. White Chili
35. My "Be Yourself Unless You Can Be A Unicorn" phone case
36. The smell of Christmas trees
37. Playing Super Mario Bros. with Nate
27. Wrapping Christmas presents
28. Watching Doctor Who with Josie
29. Preparing my Christmas Eve dinner menu
30. Turning on all the Christmas lights
31. Doing random acts of kindness for people
32. Leggings
33. Being able to curl my hair with a straighter (big accomplishment for someone like me!)
34. White Chili
35. My "Be Yourself Unless You Can Be A Unicorn" phone case
36. The smell of Christmas trees
37. Playing Super Mario Bros. with Nate
Labels:
cool things,
Doctor Who,
favorite things,
random thoughts,
remembering
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Griefsgiving
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I know most people celebrate and acknowledge this holiday, but I've never really understood why. It's a food holiday. It's the day when all your family gets together and pigs out on good (and sometimes strange looking) food. Some families even gather around the TV to watch football. But at the core of this holiday it's always about the delicious food coma.
Oh.
And giving thanks.
I always hated that moment right before the prayer over the food where everyone was required to go around and say what they were most thankful for this year. We give thanks or as I like to call it: Humble Bragging.
Now I don't want to take away from the people who actually are giving thanks for the good in their life. Their genuine gratefulness while sitting in the tension of life is always a breath of fresh air, but most of the time I find myself listening to the "truly blessed' going on and on about how "thankful" they are for this thing and that thing and how much they have tobrag be thankful for this year. And of course we all know if it's said with a sweet smile and a "Praise Jesus" it's not at all bragging.
I'm curious about what it would look like to have a Griefsgiving instead of a Thanksgiving.
Haha. I know, it's not a good "happy holiday" name and really, who wants to be apart of that lame, tear filled holiday.
Well.... I kinda do.
I'd like to be apart of a circle where we aren't desperately grabbing onto things to "feel" thankful for or humble bragging. A safe, circle with real people with real problems who say "This year has been a real shit storm because of... And today I am thankful that I didn't scream at my wife/husband/kids/dogs/cats/hamsters, or reduce myself into a pile of shameful lies about my body, or drink myself into oblivion or cut myself."
How would it be to stand in a circle where we can literally be thankful for the huge life-changing moments we have, but don't share with people for fear of revealing our dark secrets and having judgement passed on us.
A friend of mine texted me this past week and asked me how gratitude felt amidst my grief and sorrow.
I sat staring at the message for awhile surprised by the question. I wasn't surprised that she had asked the question...she's one of the few people who would be brave enough to ask that question. It was surprising because of how kind that question felt to my heart. Here amidst all this shit of infertility and grief and one beautiful person stood up in that mess and offered my heart a chance to breathe. A brilliant glimmer of kindness. Someone had been loving enough to address the elephant in the room.
I responded that while I knew that there were things to be grateful for, it all felt forced and fake when I try to name anything.
Forced and Fake.
I don't think that's what giving thanks is supposed to look like and yet all too often it does. I feel like I can't stand up and say that I am thankful that I had the energy to clean the house, or didn't pressure myself about the future or what the holidays are supposed to look like, or that my battle with self-harm isn't winning, or that I am even breathing at this very second because I don't want to die. But guess what? That's exactly what I am thankful for this year. Those things are real and brutally raw and honest.
Infertility has stolen so much from me these past couple years. My heart breaks every freaking day. I can't go to the mall and not run back into my car sobbing because I saw a beautiful mother holding her tiny baby. I struggle every day with fighting for my life, finding worth in myself, and figuring out what is real and true. It's a battle I was sure I would lose and yet, somehow, I'm still here.
So while everyone celebrates their Thanskgiving, me and my husband will be wrapping our arms around each other, taking a deep breath before being surrounded by everything our hearts ache for and we'll be having a private Griefsgiving in our hearts.
It might not catch on as a real holiday, but if you want to sit in the grief and be genuinely honest I'll be here today, tomorrow, and hopefully every day after that. We'll give a tearful thanks for what's been lost and what we're fighting for today.
Oh.
And giving thanks.
I always hated that moment right before the prayer over the food where everyone was required to go around and say what they were most thankful for this year. We give thanks or as I like to call it: Humble Bragging.
Now I don't want to take away from the people who actually are giving thanks for the good in their life. Their genuine gratefulness while sitting in the tension of life is always a breath of fresh air, but most of the time I find myself listening to the "truly blessed' going on and on about how "thankful" they are for this thing and that thing and how much they have to
I'm curious about what it would look like to have a Griefsgiving instead of a Thanksgiving.
Haha. I know, it's not a good "happy holiday" name and really, who wants to be apart of that lame, tear filled holiday.
Well.... I kinda do.
I'd like to be apart of a circle where we aren't desperately grabbing onto things to "feel" thankful for or humble bragging. A safe, circle with real people with real problems who say "This year has been a real shit storm because of... And today I am thankful that I didn't scream at my wife/husband/kids/dogs/cats/hamsters, or reduce myself into a pile of shameful lies about my body, or drink myself into oblivion or cut myself."
How would it be to stand in a circle where we can literally be thankful for the huge life-changing moments we have, but don't share with people for fear of revealing our dark secrets and having judgement passed on us.
A friend of mine texted me this past week and asked me how gratitude felt amidst my grief and sorrow.
I sat staring at the message for awhile surprised by the question. I wasn't surprised that she had asked the question...she's one of the few people who would be brave enough to ask that question. It was surprising because of how kind that question felt to my heart. Here amidst all this shit of infertility and grief and one beautiful person stood up in that mess and offered my heart a chance to breathe. A brilliant glimmer of kindness. Someone had been loving enough to address the elephant in the room.
I responded that while I knew that there were things to be grateful for, it all felt forced and fake when I try to name anything.
Forced and Fake.
I don't think that's what giving thanks is supposed to look like and yet all too often it does. I feel like I can't stand up and say that I am thankful that I had the energy to clean the house, or didn't pressure myself about the future or what the holidays are supposed to look like, or that my battle with self-harm isn't winning, or that I am even breathing at this very second because I don't want to die. But guess what? That's exactly what I am thankful for this year. Those things are real and brutally raw and honest.
Infertility has stolen so much from me these past couple years. My heart breaks every freaking day. I can't go to the mall and not run back into my car sobbing because I saw a beautiful mother holding her tiny baby. I struggle every day with fighting for my life, finding worth in myself, and figuring out what is real and true. It's a battle I was sure I would lose and yet, somehow, I'm still here.
So while everyone celebrates their Thanskgiving, me and my husband will be wrapping our arms around each other, taking a deep breath before being surrounded by everything our hearts ache for and we'll be having a private Griefsgiving in our hearts.
It might not catch on as a real holiday, but if you want to sit in the grief and be genuinely honest I'll be here today, tomorrow, and hopefully every day after that. We'll give a tearful thanks for what's been lost and what we're fighting for today.
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