15 Weeks and Feeling Better

I want to use this blog to help me remember this first, exciting pregnancy. But morning (all-day) sickness, travel, work, holidays, friends and family all seemed to get in the way and here I am not having posted for nearly a month! 

Take the tail-end of week 11 and the beginning of week 12 (Dec. 14-15), for example. I had to take the bus into work before our flights back to America, and I spent the whole bus ride trying desperately not to vomit. Then I got off the bus and tried to breathe deeply, willing myself to hold it all in, to think of anything but being sick. Finally, I was scouting for places to unobtrusively upchuck - I didn't find one and proceeded to projectile vomited all over the pavement and sidewalk. After cleaning myself up the best I could (in my work clothes!) I apologized to everyone around me and just kept repeating that I was pregnant. I needed them to know I wasn't hungover! Luckily I got a few sympathetic nods from people who understood those queasy first weeks. 

The day after the vomit episode I hit 12 weeks and was perfectly fine for the next three weeks. This was wonderful timing for our America trip, as it meant I could indulge in all the Mexican food possible. I had a delightful time sharing the news with my friends and family in a variety of creative ways, including my wrapped bump and a youtube video:

I didn't really do much documenting while I was visiting my family, as I was too busy seeing everyone and running around like usual. I did get to buy maternity clothes (too much fun! especially with the bump pillow!) Why didn't anyone tell me maternity stuff is so comfortable? I am never changing out of my comfy jeans again! No buttons, no problems!

Bump pillow! Can't wait to actually be like this!

Me in 3 months?

 My dear family friends were so incredible and threw me a last-minute baby shower. I felt so surrounded by love and happiness, it was a wonder I didn't sob all the way through (perhaps my emotions are a bit more in control now?) We played sweet games, chatted, ate yummy food, had delicious cake, made onesies, and laughed and talked for hours. 

 

Lovely quilt for baby!

Luckily things are still quite simple for me with a tiny bump, although I have passed into the exciting second trimester! I don't really feel more energetic, but I'm happy to be eating normal food again. I want it to both go slower (I'm loving growing a sweet baby!) to wanting it to go faster (I can't wait to meet my sweet little snuggle baby!). I've just gotten my next scan date - the anomaly scan - for February 8th so I'm really looking forward to that. Things seem to be ticking along just fine - no problems or concerns so far, and I'm just so happy to be here. I never thought I would be, and sometimes it feels like this must be a dream and it couldn't be happening to me! But here I am, rubbing my slightly protruding tummy and thinking about all the wonderful moments to come.

Reactions, Positivity, and Understanding

While visiting my friends and family in America (some with children, some with grandchildren, some without any), it was interesting to see people's reactions, responses, and comments if I chose to share my current struggle with infertility. I wasn't sure how I was going to deal with this situation - A bottle of wine in each hand? Mimosas every day at breakfast? How do you respond to a topic that consumes you when you're home but that is so difficult to discuss?

As I had guessed most people brought up the topic with me quite quickly. With more than five years of marriage, a new home and low-stress job, it looks like the perfect set-up for a family. As they eyed my very full wine glass, they would inquire, "So, are you thinking about starting a family?" and I would choose my response carefully. Usually something like, "Yep, we are trying pretty hard, but no luck so far!" Humor can make any topic seem normal. 

I had expected some of the normal responses for someone who is trying-but-not-succeeding: At least you're young! It'll happen when the time's right! Maybe you should adopt! You know all the ones I'm talking about. I had prepared myself for them as well, and mostly let them slide right over me without taking them to heart. No one is trying to be hurtful with their comments. People don't know how to react to a situation they have never encountered. They want to give advice, they want to give hope, they want you to be happy and positive and make THEM feel comfortable. And I get it - infertility is a pretty uncomfortable topic. Society has made it very taboo to talk about reproduction, and I also believe the explicit details of my journey are a private topic for trusted close friends and family (except, apparently, on this all-too-public blog, but that's something else entirely).  

So for a lot of my interactions with friends and family while on my visit to America, I lied. Instead of sharing how I really feel most of the time (hopeless, frustrated, angry, inadequate, and more...), I pulled on my brave-face mask and echo their sentiments and hide my real thoughts.  For the most part, people don't want to hear that you are not okay. They want the easy, comfortable, sanitized version. They want me to be positive and joyful like I normally am towards difficult situations in life. I can't really blame them, everyone has enough of their own troubles in their life - why do they need mine too?

One friend, however, really surprised me. Instead of a cliché comment, advice, reassurance, or positivity, she offered support and understanding. Instead of rushing to tell me how, "I would get there someday," or "It would all be alright," or telling me about her roommate's cousin's sister with PCOS who miraculously had a baby - she commiserated with me. 

"You must be so frustrated"
"It might never happen, I'm so sorry."
"I know what it's like to go through something difficult. I'm here if you ever need to talk about it"

And for that moment, I didn't feel like I was hiding behind a mask or pretending to be the sunny, positive, shiny me. I could just share my real thoughts and put everything out there on the table. I felt so free for the moment. When we said goodbye I gave her several big hugs. I don't think she even realized how important that conversation was for me. 

Everyone deals with infertility in their own way, and I don't think there is one right way to do it. I just know showing understanding and compassion instead of rushing to slap on a band-aid can do wonders for someone like me. And if you're reading this and struggling too - I understand, and I'm sorry for your frustration and difficulty.