12 Weeks!

Week 12

Here I am at 12 weeks, second trimester, woohoo! I mostly just look bloated. I started wearing maternity pants about a week ago because the regular ones no longer snap, button, or zip. Whoever invented maternity clothes should get a hug. :)

The most dramatic development this week: reflexes. Your baby's fingers will soon begin to open and close, his toes will curl, his eye muscles will clench, and his mouth will make sucking movements. In fact, if you prod your abdomen, your baby will squirm in response, although you won't be able to feel it. His intestines, which have grown so fast that they protrude into the umbilical cord, will start to move into his abdominal cavity about now, and his kidneys will begin excreting urine into his bladder.
Meanwhile, nerve cells are multiplying rapidly, and in your baby's brain, synapses are forming furiously. His face looks unquestionably human: His eyes have moved from the sides to the front of his head, and his ears are right where they should be. From crown to rump, your baby-to-be is just over 2 inches long (about the size of a lime) and weighs half an ounce.
See what your baby looks like this week. (Or see what fraternal twins look like in the womb this week.)
Note: Every baby develops a little differently, even in the womb. Our information is designed to give you a general idea of your baby's development.

How your life's changing:

Quick Clicks

• Sex during pregnancy: An overview
• What activities should I avoid during pregnancy?
• A BabyCenter tour for expectant dads
• Inside pregnancy: Girl or boy?
• Skin darkening during pregnancy

Your uterus has grown to the point where your healthcare provider can now feel the top of it (the fundus) low in your abdomen, just above your pubic bone. You may already be into maternity clothes, especially if this isn't your first pregnancy. If you're still fairly small and not yet ready for maternity clothes, you've no doubt noticed that your waist is thickening and that you're more comfortable in loose, less restrictive clothing.
You may begin to feel heartburn (also called acid indigestion), a burning sensation that often extends from the bottom of your breastbone to your lower throat. Many women get heartburn for the first time during pregnancy, and those who've previously had bouts of heartburn may find that it gets worse. During pregnancy, the placenta produces a lot of the hormone progesterone, which relaxes the valve that separates the esophagus from the stomach. Particularly when you're lying down, gastric acid can seep back up the pipe, which causes the uncomfortable burning sensation. For many women the problem doesn't begin (or get worse) until later in pregnancy, when your growing uterus starts to push up on your stomach. The discomfort may range from mildly annoying to intense and distracting.

My baby is...

The size of a lime! It's fun to see what fruits and vegetables our Little Lloyd will be compared to as it grows!

We hoped and prayed it would happen some day and Oh we're pregnant by the way!

The next chapter of our story begins on August 21. Well, it actually began a few weeks before that, but since we’re all adults here, I don’t think I need to explain those happenings to everyone.
I woke up in the morning, and for some reason, the thought popped into my head that my period hadn’t started yet. I tend to have long cycles, but when I got to counting the days, it had been 37 days since the first day of my last period (July 16) and that is long, even for my wacky body.

I was getting ready to go to WalMart to pick up a couple of things. I’m not sure I even remember what they were at this point, I think maybe mascara and something else. I decided while I was there to pick up a box of pregnancy tests, just to rule it out, knowing full well that it would be negative. I was so sure it would be negative that I didn’t even tell Brent I was going to buy one.

After my shopping excursion, I decided to do what I used to do every month, but had stopped doing a while ago…pee on that darn stick, and pray that it turned out positive.
I did my business, and while putting the cap back on, the second line starting showing up instantly. I didn’t even have the cap fully on before it showed up. It showed up even before the control line, or the “evil not pregnant line” as I like to call it.
I’m not sure if I got my pants pulled up before I walked out of the bathroom or not. Luckily it was just me, Brent, and the furkids, so it wasn’t anything unseen to any of them! J Brent is sitting on the couch on his laptop, and I walk up to him, shaking, saying “I don’t believe it!” and shoving the pregnancy test in his face. I think it took him about 30 seconds to register what I was shoving in his face, and then he just looked at me in shock. The look on my face had to have been priceless at this point. I am pretty sure that I said “I don’t believe it” about 12 more times before we hugged and I started crying.
I’m sure for most women, the moment they find out they are pregnant is overwhelming and exciting, but I don’t think anything can top the rush of emotions a woman struggling with infertility feels. Especially when you’ve pretty much given up, and assumed that a pregnancy was never going to happen for you.
Throughout the day, I kept looking at the pregnancy test. I took a picture of it. I stuck it in Brent’s face several times. I showed it to my dog, and my cat. I looked at it in the mirror. I wanted to carry it around everywhere with me, and sleep with it under my pillow, but Brent said no. To this day, I still have that pregnancy test in my purse. And yes, the cap is on!
Over the course of the next week, I took several more tests. They were all positive.
But that didn’t calm my anxiety. I know how it feels to lose a baby, and the last time we discovered we were pregnant, the joy was ripped from us a week later. We kept the news to ourselves for a week, and really, I was just waiting for it to happen again. But it hasn’t. The following Sunday we told Brent’s parents, and then Wednesday we told my parents. I wrote them a poem, which I will share with you all now.

We have some good news to send your way
We know how much you’ve been waiting for this day
Maybe not as much as us, but surely close behind
This news is pretty awesome, it will probably blow your mind
If you are not sitting down, I suggest you do that now
We never thought this day would come but it’s here…some way, some how.
The suspense is building as you read this poem, word for word and line for line
It’s time to share the secret that we’ve been holding for some time
A few months down the road from now, there’s someone you’ll want to know
Someone you’ll want to call your own, to watch play and laugh and grow.
The dream we’ve had for 3 long years is finally coming true
We’re overwhelmed by the wonderful news we have to share with you
We’re so excited, blessed, delighted, and overjoyed
Towards the end of April, there will finally be a LITTLE LLOYD!!!
Yes, I swear, you read that right, grandparents you will be…
I can’t believe it’s finally happened…pregnant, knocked up, and having a baby!!

We didn't really share the news with anyone else until Thursday, after we had our first doctor's appointment. We had an ultrasound and got to briefly hear the heartbeat, and amazingly, everything is going great so far. The heartbeat was 171. The baby looks like a little jelly bean right now at 9 weeks. It was the most amazing thing I've ever seen.

I still am in shock and awe that this happened. I really thought our path to parenthood was headed towards adoption...many years down the road when we could afford it. But, miracles do happen, and God does answer prayers, just in his own time.
We thank everyone so much for all their prayers and well wishes. Please continue those until our due date of April 25. We are praying so hard for a healthy baby.

I Would Die for That

I randomly came across these song lyrics while googling something today, this song was on a video a couple had made to share their infertility journey. The song is called "I Would Die for That" by Kellie Coffey.
I feel like these words have been ripped from my soul. If I was to write a song about what infertility and wanting a baby feels like, I could have done any better than this.
Sometimes I find inspiration in the strangest things. A quote, a song lyric, a passage from a book. It comes in all forms. Maybe my sharing this will give someone else some inspiration...

I've been given so much,
A husband that I love.
So why do I feel incomplete?
With every test and checkup
We're told not to give up.
He wonders if it's him.
And I wonder if it's me.

All I want is a family,
Like everyone else I see.
And I won't understand it
If it's not meant to be.

Cause I would die for that.
Just to have one chance
To hold in my hands
All that they have.
I would die for that.

And I want to know what it's like
To bring a dream to life.
For that kind of love,
What I'd give up!
I would die for that.

Sometimes it's hard to conceive,
With all that I've got,
And all I've achieved,
What I want most
Before my time is gone,
Is to hear the words
"I love you, Mom."

I would die for that.
Just to have once chance
To hold in my hands
What so many have
I would die for that.

And I want to know what it's like
To bring a dream to life.
How I would love
What some give up.
I would die ...
I would die for that.

The Infertility Phenomenon

There is a phenomenon that, unless you have had a miscarriage or deal with infertility, you will never be aware of. A woman can go years and manage to see only a handful of pregnant women. Many of those pregnant women are probably on television shows or celebrity gossip magazines. But, if a woman is suffering with infertility, has a miscarriage or has multiple miscarriages, pregnant women start materializing before our very eyes. A simple trip to the grocery store can become a gut wrenching adventure full of pregnant teenagers and women dripping with children and sporting very round expectant bellies. Going to the mall is no longer a search for the most flattering outfit. It is a nightmare of ladies about to drop and give birth at your feet as they walk out of Baby Gap holding 3 bags full of adorable onsies and itty bitty tennis shoes.

Then there seems to be the sudden outbreak of co-workers or family members who have surprise pregnancies. They are the ones who claim they weren't trying or better yet, they were "on the pill" and really can't afford another child. Then they sit and complain about morning sickness, needing to pee all the time, and back pain from their growing bellies.

Facebook friends are another breed of anxiety inducing people who in most cases are just glorified strangers. All of the sudden every person that you ever went to high school with is expecting a baby. People that you barely knew, way back when, are posting ultrasound pictures and belly pictures. Just when you think every possible person on the planet who is of child bearing age has announced their pregnancy then the birth announcements come flooding in.

And just when you think it can't get any worse the phone rings. Your best friend in the whole world calls with that telltale shrill and giddy voice. Then, your voice begins to quiver as you try to say how happy you are for her. That feeling of your heart sitting so low in your stomach that you might either have to poop it out or throw it up. You want so much to share her excitement but all you can do is say congratulations and fake it through a few more sentences before making up some very valid sounding excuse to get off the phone. It is only a matter of seconds before the fake smile washes from your face by a waterfall of tears.

It is so hard to have a miscarriage or deal with infertility and then when "The Phenomenon" is shoveled into your face it is almost unbearable. This is how I finally decided to cope. When I came across a glowing pregnant woman in the grocery store or mall, I just reminded myself that I don't know her journey. She may have had 6 miscarriages too. She may have had to try for 3 years for that pregnancy. Not that I would ever wish a loss or infertility on anyone, but it somehow made me feel better to think she had "earned" that belly. She deserved that baby as much as I deserved one.

If it was a unwed teenager or someone who wasn't in a place to take care of a child I just had to remind myself that God sent them that child for a reason. Maybe that kid would save my child's life by donating an organ or becoming the doctor who cures cancer. While I very much wish that God would have put a baby in my belly or let me keep the one that had been there, there is not a finite number of babies. It isn't like God is going to run out just because someone else happened to get in line in front of me.

I think it is totally normal to be jealous, hurt, sad, and sometimes even crushed to know of others' good fortune (even if they themselves don't see it as good fortune at the time), even though you don't feel that way on purpose. When I see a friend's pregnancy announcement or ultrasound pictures on Facebook, I WANT to be happy for them. I want to send a message with a sincere congratulations, and give them a hug and pat their round bellies the next time I see them. But, right now, I just can't do it. I'm working on it though. Working on putting my jealousy aside, and realizing that it's not their fault I can't have the same thing. It's no one's "fault." Apparently, we are all players in this game called Life, and the game isn't fair...

A simple request...

I'm not asking you to lighten my load, God...

Just give me the strength to carry it.

What Infertility Feels Like

I want to share my feelings about infertility with you, because I want you to understand my struggle. I know that understanding infertility is difficult...there are times when it seems even I don't understand.
This struggle has provoked intense and unfamiliar feelings in me and I fear that my reactions to these feelings might be misunderstood. I hope my ability to cope and your ability to understand will improve as I share my feelings with you. I want you to understand.

You may describe me this way...obsessed, moody, helpless, depressed, envious, too serious, obnoxious, aggressive, and cynical. These aren't very admirable traits, no wonder your understanding of my infertility is difficult. I prefer to describe myself this way...confused, rushed and impatient, afraid, isolated, alone, guilty, ashamed, sad, hopeless, and unsettled.

My infertility makes me feel confused. I always assumed I was fertile. I've spend years avoiding pregnancy, and now it seems ironic that I can't conceive. I hope this will be a brief difficulty with a simple solution. I feel confused about whether I want to be pregnant or whether I want to be a parent. Surely if I try harder, try longer, try better and smarter, I will have a baby.

My infertility makes me feel rushed and impatient. I learned of my infertility only after I'd been trying to become pregnant for quite some time. My life plan suddenly is behind schedule. I waited to become a parent, and now I must wait again.
I wait for medical appointments, wait for tests, wait for treatments, wait for my period not to come, my partner not to be out of town, for pregnancy. At best, I only have 12 opportunities per year. How old will I be when I finish having my family?

My infertility makes me feel afraid. Infertility is full of unknowns, and I'm frightened because I need some definite answers. How long will this last? What if I'm never a parent? What humiliation must I endure? What pain must I suffer? Why do drugs I take to help me make me feel worse? Why can't my body do what my mind wants it to do? Why do I hurt so much? I'm afraid of my feelings, afraid of my undependable body, and afraid of my future.

My infertility makes me feel isolated and alone. Reminders of babies are everywhere. I must be the only one enduring this invisible curse. I stay away from others, because everything makes me hurt. No one knows how horrible my pain is. Even though I'm usually a clear thinker, I find myself being lured by superstitions and promises. I think I'm losing perspective. I feel so alone and wonder if I'll survive this.

My infertility makes me feel guilty and ashamed. Frequently I forget that infertility is a medical problem and should be treated as one. Infertility destroys my self-esteem and I feel like a failure. Why am I being punished? What did I do to deserve this? Am I not worthy of a baby? Is this the end of my family lineage? Will my family be ashamed of me? It is easy to lose self-confidence and feel ashamed.

My infertility makes me feel angry. Everything makes me angry, and I know much of my anger is misdirected. I'm angry with my body because it has betrayed me. I'm angry with my partner because we can't seem to make this work.

I'm angry with my family because they've always sheltered me and protected me from terrible pain. My parents want grandbabies to show off and pass on family heirlooms to. Will they love me just the same if I can't provide this for them? I'm angry with my caregivers, because they control my future. They humiliate me, inflict pain, pry into my privacy, patronize me, and sometimes forget who I am. How can I impress on them how important this is to me?

I'm angry at my expenses. Infertility treatment is extremely expensive. My financial resources may determine my family size. My insurance company isn't cooperative, and I may have to make some sacrifices to pay medical bills. I can't go to a specialist, because it means more travel time, more missed work, and greater expenses.

Finally, I'm angry at everyone else. Everyone has opinions about my inability to become a parent. Everyone has easy solutions. Everyone seems to know too little and say too much.

My infertility makes me feel sad and hopeless. Infertility feels like I've lost my future, and no one knows of my sadness. I feel hopeless...infertility robs me of my energy. I've never cried so much or so easily. I'm sad that infertility may someday place a strain on my marriage. I'm sad that my infertility requires me to be so self-centered. I'm sad that I've ignored friendships because this struggle hurts so much and demands so much time and energy. Friends with children prefer the company of other families with children. I'm surrounded by babies, pregnant women, playgrounds, baby showers, birth stories, kids' movies, and much more. I feel sad and hopeless.

My infertility makes me feel unsettled. My life is on hold. Making decisions about my immediate and long-term future seems impossible. I can't decide about purchasing a home, vacations, and house guests. The more I struggle with infertility, the less control I have.

This struggle has no timetable, the treatments have no guarantees. The only sure things are that I need to be near my partner at fertile times and near my doctor at treatment times. Should I pursue adoption? Take expensive drugs? Should I pursue more specialized and costly medical intervention? It feels unsettling to have no clear, easy answers or guarantees.

Occasionally, I feel my panic subside. I'm learning some helpful ways to cope. I'm now convinced I'm not crazy, and I believe I'll survive. I'm learning to listen to my body and be assertive, not aggressive about my needs. I'm realizing that good medical care and good emotional care are not necessarily found in the same place. I'm trying to be more than an infertile person.