This is Chapter 7 in the Infertility Memoir. Read previous chapters here.
As we approached the 2020 holiday season we were thankful for the social distancing because the morning sickness was hitting me hard and nothing was helping. Not being around people who might ask why I wasn’t drinking or why I was feeling ill was a blessing in disguise. I also had all of the worst-case scenarios of what could go wrong with this pregnancy floating around the back of my mind. I just kept thinking if we could make it to the second trimester we would be golden.
When Thanksgiving came around we were excited to be able to celebrate with my family virtually. In all the years we had been together, my husband never got to do Thanksgiving with my extended family. We had been stationed so far away from my family, and the pandemic made families get creative on ways to spend time together while being apart. Enter the family Zoom meetings. I remember it being a lot of fun to see my family for the first time in a long time, and my cousin and his wife had some news to share. I knew immediately that they were going to announce they were pregnant. Sure enough, they were expecting, and for the first time in a very long time that news didn’t sting.
Part of me wanted to blurt out us too, but I knew we weren’t going to share anything until we were at least 13 weeks or later. I also didn’t want to steal their moment. Deep down I knew sharing early could spell trouble if we lost the baby, and waiting until we were statistically safe was the best course of action. Our expanding extended family was the focus of that holiday gathering, and I am so thankful that we were also expecting, otherwise that Zoom would have been unbearable for me.
Just days after Thanksgiving I was using the bathroom, and panic struck as I noticed blood in my underwear. Tears started pouring from my eyes as flashbacks of my previous losses flashed in my mind. I called my obstetrician and thankfully they had time to squeeze me in an hour later. My next call was to my husband. We only had one car and I needed him to come home from work early to take me to the OB.
I was diagnosed with a subchorionic bleed, which is basically blood pooling between the uterine wall and the baby. Our baby was healthy, but out of precaution and to hopefully allow the bleed to heal I was placed on bed rest. I wasn’t even allowed to decorate our Christmas tree. It felt like pure torture to sit around all day, but if that would keep this pregnancy healthy then I would do it.
After a few weeks had passed it was time for our first appointment at Maternal Fetal Medicine (MFM). IVF pregnancies are considered high risk and with the bleed my OB’s office wanted me seen close to 12 or 13 weeks for my first evaluation. More OB or MFM appointments meant more ultrasound views of our baby, which helped ease my fears of losing the pregnancy. We also learned that the bleed was improving, which was a huge relief. We were feeling more confident that we could share with our families that we were expecting.
I went home after that appointment with hope and excitement that I had never experienced before. We had cleared the next major benchmark in the pregnancy where the miscarriage rates dropped significantly. I finally got to plan out how we would announce our pregnancy to our families. Since we were quickly approaching Christmas and knew we would again be celebrating with family over Zoom we ordered t-shirts. It was so much fun watching everyone’s reactions, some were very delayed, some were unsure, and others burst with excitement.
We waited another week or so to post on our social media to share with other family and friends because I remember how incredibly painful it was to see pregnancy announcements during the holidays. I wanted the announcement to be a testament to our journey so that for others struggling maybe it wouldn’t sting as bad as other announcements, but also give them hope. In what has likely been my most liked and commented-on post ever, I think we did just that. Everyone rallied around us to share in our joy.
I also had this crazy idea that I would finally go back to school and finish my degree. Classes were starting up in early January. I was still suffering from morning sickness and was questioning why I thought this was the best time to go to school. Then again the words of a wise mentor played in my mind, “There is never going to be a right time, there are always reasons why it’s not the right time,” and so I dove in head first to my first semester back to college online.
In February at our anatomy scan, we learned we were having a girl. We were so excited to know the gender, but we would have been happy with either a boy or a girl. Soon after that, I started to feel our baby girl, and those worries and fears began lifting away.
This was also around the time that Advocacy Day planning with RESOLVE was getting started, which was a welcomed distraction. The busier I was, the less I could fret over what could go wrong. Between volunteering, school, and planning for our baby girl I was busy. It was definitely in a good way, I find that my mental health suffers with boredom; the busier I am, the healthier I am. Now, trust me I still take time to rest and do things –don’t get me started on my Animal Crossings obsession during the height of lockdowns.
The months were going by, and our baby was growing and healthy. As we approached the third trimester I was part of the small percentage of women who continued to experience morning sickness throughout the entire pregnancy. I also had developed gestational diabetes, which meant I had to watch what I was eating. And boy was it hard, when all this nauseous pregnant lady wanted was bland carbs and Coke to help settle my stomach.
As spring arrived so did baby shower time. I always knew in the back of my mind that I would never get to have a dream baby shower, it just isn’t feasible as a military family living nowhere near family. I was very blessed to have both sides of our family throw us virtual showers, and they were absolutely wonderful, but part of me still mourns the fact that I didn’t get to have a traditional baby shower. But in the same thought, I remember there are so many women mourning that they aren’t even pregnant, and I choose to focus on my gratitude instead.
Once we had our baby showers it was time to prep for our daughter’s arrival. By prep, I mean building her dresser and getting the first few sizes of clothes washed because, in true military fashion, we were moving to Fort Leavenworth at the end of July. We knew we wouldn’t need to build her crib. And instead of picking out one of those cool swivel bassinets we opted for a travel-friendly one knowing we could be weeks without our things. It was starting to feel real, like this moment we had been praying for, trying for, was finally almost here. I am so thankful I had things to keep me busy because the excitement was turning to anxiety a little bit.
As I shifted my focus toward Advocacy Day, and helping plan social events for all of the advocates, it was the fuel my soul needed. Working alongside others who had also struggled with infertility was inspiring, and two of my fellow volunteers were also pregnant, including one with the same due date! Our little pregnant group helped me in more ways than I could ever describe. We shared our fears, anxiety, and how grateful we were to be here pregnant, sharing our stories to create change and inspire others. On Advocacy Day I began experiencing some Braxton hicks contractions, and so did another volunteer. She ended up going to the hospital with, if I remember correctly, real contractions after her water broke. I realized I might be next.
A few days later things got really crazy. We were stationed in Illinois, outside Chicago. While tornados happened, they weren’t common that close to the city. We had experienced a few tornado watches, but that night we were issued a warning. There was a really nasty line that was coming, and sure enough, there was a tornado that touched down in the neighboring town. We grabbed some comforters from the closet and huddled on the stairs under them. Our house was one of those tri-level homes that didn’t have a lower room, or any rooms without windows, and the closets on the lowest level weren’t big enough for us to sit or stand in. I heard the tell-tale freight train sound of the tornado. I remember hearing things crashing into and near the house, and then it was like the tornado lifted and eased. Only a few seconds later the freight train sound got louder again. Eventually, things quieted down, and thankfully we couldn’t see any damage to the house.