Friday, October 9, 2015

23.2...and this IS special.

I shared an article on Facebook not long ago about how emotional it is to be a pregnant infertile. For years I idealized what it would be like to finally get that positive pregnancy test.  The relief and joy it would bring. How BJ and I would finally feel complete.  So the first time I had a positive pregnancy test and lost that baby as soon as I knew I had it was devastating.  That chemical pregnancy/early miscarriage stole the innocence of a positive pregnancy test from me.  So while it was an accomplishment to have that positive test after years of waiting, I couldn't really trust it.  Me being pregnant is still an enigma to my brain.

I thought seeing the baby and hearing the heartbeat would allow me to really accept it, but it didn't. I thought feeling the baby kick, having the anatomy scan, and now BJ seeing and feeling the baby kick would make this more real, but it's still very surreal.

I still don't tell acquaintances I am pregnant when they ask me how I'm doing. It's still a very foreign concept that I am having a baby, that this is working, and that I'll be Pico's mother in a few more months.  But I'm both happily and hesitantly getting to that point that my belly is betraying me.

I will never know what it's like to "just get pregnant." I'll never know what it's like to not have known struggle, sadness, and despair around wanting to be a parent, and that makes me and my fellow sisters in infertility a little different.  Not that it's better...I wouldn't wish infertility on my enemy...but it is different.  I know I am going to be a different parent than I would have been if I had just gotten pregnant 5 years ago.  This kid gets a break.  Five years ago, I would have been disappointed with anything less than a mathematical genius or gifted athlete.  I just want Pico to breathe, eat, open his or her eyes.  I just want Pico to be mine.  I long to be the one that soothes his or her cries in the middle of the night.  Even the nights where nothing else works, I want to be the one that suffers along with Pico as we try to figure it all out together.

I think BJ and I will be much better at not sweating the small stuff than we would have been 5 years ago.  We both have grown into our professional lives a little more while waiting for this miracle to occur, and we have new dreams and goals separate from being parents to Pico. But I think this, too will make us better and more balanced parents.

More than anything else, I just want to be this child's mother, whoever and however Pico turns out to be.  So while my body does all these strange things and my mind is still full of trepidation, I am still able to relish all these new experiences.  Everything from the kicks and squiggles in my belly, to the weird aches and pains, to the inability to digest food in a timely manner...It's a miracle for us, and I hope I am deserving.

So at 23.2 weeks, I am...

Up 9 lbs for a net of negative 6... WHOA
Feeling all the wiggles, kicks and punches and excited about feeling hiccups soon!
Craving...BJ will kill me if I don't say I craved a donut last week.  I wanted Krispy Kreme, so BJ took me to Dunkin' Donuts, where I was like 'Some old-fashioned glazed cake munchkins would be amazing'...But DD didn't have I just had a mixture of mediocre Munchkins and then indigestion.  So now I am...
Averse to whatever I am "craving"...It just doesn't end well, and isn't worth it...
In love with that moment I'm drifting off to sleep and the little creature in my belly starts dancing the night away.

Peace, Love, and Belly Dances,

Mary Katherine

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