Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Baby Vegas

I never thought I’d write here again.  When a year went by, then two, and I hadn’t written anything consistent I figured I was probably done.  If the blog is just catch-up post after catch-up post, there really isn’t any point anymore, is there?  Life is too busy to have yet another task to catch-up on that isn’t a necessity.  I don’t really know why I want to post here so badly now, just that the feeling of needing to write things down has been nagging at me for months.   

Jerry and I went to Las Vegas and got legally married on our 10-year anniversary.  We brought the kiddos, we brought a few family members and friends.  Then we went back a few more times on our own.  I probably love Las Vegas more than he does, but he’s usually up for an adventure and it was nice to get away for a long weekend here and there with just us.  We went to Las Vegas in January.  We had fun.  A week later, I complained to Jerry that I didn’t feel right.  He said, “We’re getting too old to drink like that.”  Definitely.  But when I took a pregnancy test to ease my mind, the stick turned positive instantly.  

We tried for a long time—over 3 years.  I tracked my cycles religiously.  I cried when other people got pregnant.  When that didn’t work, Jerry went to the doctor.  Then there was a varicocele repair.  Then it was my turn.  A preconceptual appointment with a rude, condescending OB/GYN who was blatantly judgmental of my desire to carry another child.  An MFM who was considerably more understanding.  An appointment with the fertility docs.  An HSG.  An excessive amount of laboratory tests.  It got to the point where getting pregnant was becoming as difficult as staying pregnant used to be.  It was sad, scary, frustrating.  It got to the point where we wondered if it was worth it.  We stopped talking about it.   I started researching foster parenting.  I think we both assumed the door for that imaginary baby was slowly but firmly closing of its own volition.

So staring at that blatantly positive test was…exciting and terrifying.  Moments like those are some of the strangest moments life has to offer, aren’t they?  I left the test on the counter, laying it down like it was an unstable explosive.  “It won’t stick, “ I thought.  I curled up in bed next to my husband who let a few minutes pass before remembering to ask if the test was negative.  

“It won’t stick,” I thought with every passing day.  But here we are.  It stuck.  It kept on sticking.  We are excited and terrified. 

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