On Mother’s Day

“We are… we are… JEROMY WAKE UP WE ARE PREGNANT”

My husband was a bit surprised to hear that at 5 am on a Wednesday morning. He knew I planned on testing, although he wasn’t sure why I’d “waste the $12” on a pregnancy test when surely we couldn’t be pregnant. Surely. Right?

Surprise!

We found out we are pregnant on March 16, 2022… four and a half years after we first had the conversation to start trying to expand our family. Eighteen months after our first failed IUI. Six months after a failed round of IVF that shook our world.

As many of you know, I wrote about my endometriosis surgery last year in April for National Infertility Awareness Week. I was also diagnosed with a declining AMH, which essentially means my body doesn’t have a whole lot of eggs left. This doesn’t indicate infertility (it only takes one egg, after all), but it does mean that our timeframe was… short. And if we were going to take matters into our own hands, we were going to have to get going with it.

So in July 2021, we decided to pursue IVF. We knew it would be a long shot, especially with the number and condition of my eggs, but it was one that we felt we needed to take… to exhaust every option, to avoid wondering what-if. The 14 days that followed our first injection were the longest, hardest days of our lives. Sure, I spent a great weekend on the beach with my very best book club friends. What you didn’t see were the three injections a night, the crying in the bathroom, the hormone bloat and bruising.

The day before the first day of school in August, the ultrasound and bloodwork showed that we only had one viable egg, and my IVF cycle was cancelled. I missed the first day of school to complete an IUI with the hopes that one of those lingering eggs would take. It didn’t.

We really struggled. We cried. I went to a lot of therapy. And in October, we decided, without really talking about it, that it was time to move forward. We sold our house, the one we had bought for the big yard and safe neighborhood, and moved to a house with an awesome swimming pool across the street from Jeromy’s firm. We daydreamed about pool parties and poker nights, and we figured we had time to live our lives before we start considering our next steps — adoption.

But maybe we had a bit too much fun during all of our Mardi Gras events, because… here we are. Pregnant!

Why now? I’m not sure. It’s a question I’m trying to not look at too closely. I had stopped taking my prenatals, I wasn’t tracking ovulation, we weren’t doing anything to try anymore. And here we are. (If you’re tempted to tell me it’s because we relaxed, or because it’s “God’s timing”, please… don’t.)

After all we have been through, we are choosing joy through this. The moment we saw that pregnancy test, we chose joy and hope. We looked at each other and said…. no matter what happens, we got a positive pregnancy test for the first time in five years, and we choose joy. With every day that passed, I held my breath, searched for blood, cautiously told the people in our lives that we would need as a support system.

But that 8 week ultrasound? Hearing that heartbeat for the first time? A strong, healthy, 162 beats per minute heartbeat? There’s nothing like that moment. The first glimmer of hope that this thing… it could stick. It could be real for us.

We are now in week 12 (12 weeks, 3 days, to be exact). We got to hear baby’s heartbeat again this week, a solid 172, and it was kicking and flipping for the sonar. It still doesn’t feel quite real, though the nausea and exhaustion certainly does, but for the first time in 5 years, I’ve allowed myself to think that maybe the other shoe won’t drop. This could be for real. This could be what we’ve been waiting for.

As I look back at my post on endometriosis, and as I look back on my private stories while we were going through IVF, I just want to reach back in time and give us a hug. There was so much heartbreak and uncertainty. And while there is still certainly uncertainty, I’ve found myself smiling more, accepting more happiness from the people we tell, and daring to dream and hope for the future of this child and our small family.

I know, more than most, how hard pregnancy announcements can be for someone who is dealing with infertility. And I also know how every story of pregnancy success feels both hopeful and heartbreaking. I wasn’t sure I wanted to share our story… I wasn’t even sure I wanted to post a pregnancy announcement on social media at all, but if I can help even one person feel less alone in their struggles, or give one person hope that they can achieve pregnancy after so many years of trying, then telling our story is worth it.