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So I’ve been away. For a long time. And then out of the blue I reappeared and dropped a bombshell.

I meant to share earlier, really, I did. Time after time I wanted to click the “publish” button. But the timing never seemed quite right. Even though I haven’t posted in over and year and I don’t comment frequently on other blogs, I still keep up with all of the blogs that I read during our time trying to get pregnant. Every single one of them. And sadly, there is still a lot of heartache going on in the blogosphere. It seemed that every time I was ready to publish that blog post, there would be more devastating news. To make a pregnancy announcement in the wake of a failed cycle, miscarriage or ectopic pregnancy would just be in poor taste.

And so I waited. Waited for the perfect timing. And, as with most things in life, there really was no perfect time. There was always one reason or another not to say something. And after a while the fact that I was hiding a pregnancy kind of became a source of embarrassment to me, like “I haven’t said anything in X months…how embarrassing it would be to come clean NOW.” And before I knew it, I was in my third trimester.

The other day I was reading through my old blog posts. Both from after Nina was born and those from when we were still trying to get pregnant. Reading those posts made me realize how much I cherish having that record of all we experienced on our path to parenthood and beyond. And it made me realize how much I want to continue that record so that I can look back on these times and remember all of the details that so quickly become fuzzy in my head.

So I pulled on my big girl panties and clicked the “Publish” button. And here we are. I’m 30+ weeks pregnant and due at the end of October with our son. Twenty six weeks have passed since that first positive test and neither my husband nor I can really believe that this is happening. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of how fortunate we are to be in this position.


Originally written February 17th, 2011.

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about our family lately. I know that the chances of us having another child without the help of an RE are virtually non-existent. It took us two and a half years, 5 IUIs, 3 IVF’s and a whole lot of heartache to finally achieve that elusive pregnancy. I’m not sure that we can go through that again, especially since it’s not just the two of us anymore…there is a third person to consider now. I remember turning to my husband shortly after Nina was born and saying “we have to find a way to make this happen again.” I loved being pregnant, I loved being a mom and couldn’t fathom not having that second child that we’d always pictured. One of the women in my support group is 95% sure that she does not want to have more children, that the one that she has is enough for her. I just could not put myself in her place or even begin to comprehend how that could be. I needed to have those two children…how could I possibly stop with just one?

But as time went on, I began to question the idea of two children. Many women fear that they won’t be able to love their second child as much as the first one. My fear was just the opposite…that a second child would take away even one tiny bit of time, attention, love, snuggles or kisses from Nina. Nina is my world and I want nothing to take away from how special and important she is. As I tossed these thoughts around in my head, I became more open minded towards the idea of Nina being an only child. The concept became acceptable to me, especially considering all of the crap that we wouldn’t have to go through if we didn’t have that second child. I remember sitting with a group of friends from my support group telling them that while I not-so-secretly hoped that I would be THAT woman who had to jump through hoops to get pregnant the first time, then magically got pregnant naturally on her own the second time, I would still be OK if it was just the three of us. I feel so incredibly lucky and blessed to have Nina…it seemed somewhat like tempting fate to try again.

My vision of our future changed and I began to see us as the family that we currently are, not the family that I always envisioned us to be. And it was great. The stress of wondering how we would manage to get pregnant again faded away and all that was left was enjoyment of our family, just as we are.

All of that changed on Valentine’s Day, 2011. On February 14th, I got up, peed on a stick, and sat there feeling foolish for setting myself up for the disappointment that I knew would be coming in just a few short moments. I’d been there so many times before. Not really believing that I was pregnant, but still holding out hope that some way, somehow the test would be positive. Only this time, the disappointment never came. What came instead were two pink lines.

Shock. I was in shock. I’m pregnant. And there was not a single pill, injection, ultrasound or violation of my cervix involved. The only “assistance” we required to make a baby was a weeklong cruise with lots of sun, booze and sex, apparently. Yes, I am now that woman that all of the obnoxious doctors (Dr. Ass Clown included) use as their anecdote as to why you need to go on birth control after having a baby, even if it took you forever to get pregnant the first time. Now I can be the anecdote for the “just relax, then you’ll get pregnant” assvice. Of course, to be fair, I went on my fair share of vacations while we were trying to get pregnant the first time, lot of good those did for my reproductive batting average. As much as I hate to prove Dr. Ass Clown right about his assvice, I absolutely couldn’t be happier that in this one case, he actually WAS right. As I told him nearly a year ago, if we were to get pregnant naturally, that would be the best possible outcome.

And so now, here we are, waiting out the early weeks and hoping for nothing but the best. I am so, so terrified to even acknowledge the pee stick with two pink lines on it, for fear that letting it become reality will somehow take it all away. I try to downplay the importance of it by reminding myself that this was so “easy” to achieve and we didn’t have to make any time, emotional or financial investments, so if it were to go awry it wouldn’t hurt as much as if we had made all of those investments. And in the same moment that thought leaves my mind, it is filled with the realization that this would likely never happen again. This is our once in a lifetime shot to have a baby without a whole mess of interventions, and the enormous weight of the situation falls on me again.

Could be so lucky that this might actually work? Every fiber of my being hopes that we are.

Our History

Dec 2006 - Started trying to conceive
Summer 2007 - Semen analysis (great), progesterone test (normal)
Dec 2007 - SHG normal
Jan 2008 - 1st RE appointment
Feb - Mar 2008 - Diagnosed with elevated FSH levels, 2 rounds of IUI with 5mg of Femara
Apr - Jun 2008 - Seeing a new RE. 3 rounds of IUI with 12.5mg of Femara, all busts. HSG normal
July 2008 - Moving on to IVF at a new clinic
Aug/Sep 2008 - 1st IVF cycle - cancelled due to poor response
Nov/Dec 2008 - Retry IVF, transferred one blast and one morula, negative beta
Feb/Mar 2009 - 2nd IVF cycle - Antagonist protocol
May 2009 - 3rd and final attempt at IVF - Antagonist protocol
Feb 18th, 2010 - our One Small Wish comes true: Nina Adele is born.

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August 2011
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