Hawaiian Baby & Mommy

Apparently Aeva is at the age where everyone starts asking when we’re going to have another kid.

I still hate that question.

IF is more like it.

It’s not like I don’t want another kid, but just because I had Aeva doesn’t mean that my fertility problems went away.  We got lucky.  We didn’t get ‘healed’.  We’re still dealing with the same set of parameters.  I don’t even know if I want to go through all of that again.  For me, trying is terrifying.  It’s work.  It’s heartache.  I just don’t know.  I have Aeva.  Right now, that’s enough for me.  I just wish people would mind their own business.  If I’ve learned one thing through infertility it’s not to ask people that question.

I’ve shared bits and pieces on what we went through before Aeva, but I haven’t shared the whole thing, and I think it may be helpful for some.  I don’t really know which of these factors made the difference for us, maybe it was all of the above, so I’ll share them all.  I also know that my journey is different from anyone else’s, but reading other’s journeys often gave me a small amount of hope when I needed it most.

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I’ve had menstrual problems for as long as I can remember.  Almost every time I had my period I had to skip the first couple days from school because I couldn’t handle the cramps.  My doctor even prescribed me pain medication, but it just took the edge off.  When I was 16, I went on birth control pills to help control my symptoms, and they made a difference, but not a huge one.

When I was 18, I was put on steroids for issues with my asthma, sinuses, and lungs.  I ended up having to be on them for 2.5 years, and the steroids/birth control combo eventually caused me to gain about 75 lbs.

Jake and I got married when I was 19, and we decided to wait until our first anniversary to start trying.  I got Depo shots for a year because it sounded easier, and I didn’t do my research about the side effects.  When I went off them a year later, my asthma was a lot worse and my period didn’t return for a few months.  After trying to get pregnant for a couple years, my ob started doing some tests.  She also recommended I lose weight (I had been trying and failing.)  Jake and I were really frustrated that we weren’t seeming to get any answers.  We had his sperm tested, and it was fine.  I became really depressed, because if it wasn’t him, obviously it had to be ‘me’.

In 2007, I had my first miscarriage.  Three more miscarriages followed in the next couple of years, but there was no indication of why.  I went through many painful tests, but all our results were that I was ‘normal’.  My doctor just kept telling me that it was stress.  It just felt like a slap in the face.

Every month when I took that pregnancy test and it was negative again, it felt like another punch in the gut.  I went through 7 rounds of clomid, but we never got beyond a six week miscarriage, and the drugs made me feel so depressed.

In early 2008, I had surgery to fix my sinuses, and my health began to improve dramatically.  It turns out, my sinuses had gotten to such a point where my entire sinus cavity was clogged and full of polyps.  Their contribution to a functioning immune system was void.

Shortly after this, through research of my own and more tests, I found out that I had polycystic ovarian syndrome.  My ob put me on Metformin, which is more commonly used to treat diabetes.  Immediately, I began to lose the weight I had been trying to lose for years.  My health improved even more, and I felt awesome, but still, no baby.

In early 2009, I found out that I have an auto immune disease that affects sinuses, digestion, your energy levels, and your skin.  There really isn’t much treatment except for taking good care of yourself and avoiding germy situations.  After this diagnosis, I realized that I was pushing myself too hard in life, and gave myself permission to rest more and not be as ‘busy’ as other people around me.  My health improved even more.  Still, no baby.

So, I gave up.  I figured it wasn’t going to work out for me.  I grieved.  I moved on.  I thought about adoption, but it was still too raw.  I put the thoughts away.

Then, in October, I started to feel like crap.  Super tired.  Nauseous.  No appetite.

After a few weeks, Jake finally convinced me to take a pregnancy test.  Positive.  (He says he knew that it would be for weeks.)  A flicker of hope.

My ob got me in right away because of my history.  It turns out, I was 8 weeks pregnant at that appointment.  A heart beat.  I’d never seen a heart beat before.  My ob recommended that I stay on my Metformin, because studies had shown that it could help prevent miscarriages in the first 14 weeks, and my progesterone level was a little low.  I came in weekly for the first few weeks, and each week, there she was.  Growing.  Heart beating.  Joy.

I think I held my breath until 22 weeks, when the possibility existed of her living outside the womb if necessary.  She was fine.  Better than fine actually.  Perfect.  Heart beating.  Growing.

I don’t know how/why she came to us at this time, and I don’t know if/how we may have more children, but right now, she lies at my feet.  Heart beating.  Growing.  Ours.