Getting The News

Yesterday, the baby growing inside of me turned 12 weeks in gestational age. I am pregnant! I had about one week where I was overflowing with joy. Let’s go back to that week…

The morning that I was to find out whether or not I was pregnant, I cried for a half hour. My husband tried to comfort me, but I was certain that I was NOT pregnant. I went into our clinic for the obligatory ‘1st Beta’ blood test where they would be looking for a certain level of HCG (Human Chorionic Ganadotropin). I could not take an at-home test at this point because it could provide us with a ‘False Positive’ considering they had ‘triggered’ me (given an intramuscular injection) 10 days prior of HCG to prepare my body for our Embryo Transfer. It’s probably a good thing that I knew I couldn’t take one of those at-home tests…they had, after all, become my nemesis. I left the clinic and cried some more, but these tears were silent as I had to bring my daughter with me for this blood test. I remember looking around the waiting room at the faces and hoping that I could look at each woman in just the right way so as to convey to them that I understood how painful it was for them to see my bouncing, bubbly, 4-year-old daughter with me. I wanted to stare into their eyes so that they would know that I rarely ever brought her. That this was only her third time there the entire year of my treatments. I wanted to apologize for causing more pain.

We drove to be with my dear friend and her son and it was the perfect distraction for my tender heart. I felt scared and weepy. And I needed the strength coming from my friend as she reassured me that I would be ok no matter the outcome of the test, but also that she would continue to stand with me if the pain of loss threatened to drown me again. She reminded me that I am never alone.

As we parted ways for lunch, I called my dad to wish him a ‘Happy Birthday!’. He was with my mom and together the two of them reinforced that I was not alone. ‘We’re here with you. We’re waiting for your news and we’re with you,’ he said through a shaky voice. Through this whole process, I will never forget the people and the moments that I was told, ‘I am with you, we are with you.’ The sentiment proved an almost physical reassurance that my pain did not have to be felt only by me. I became increasingly aware that My People could and would take some of that pain on with me. And I would be ok. And they would be ok. I used to be afraid that my feelings would be ‘too much’ for others. Maybe I’ve surrounded myself with the best kind of people because I never knew how many of My People were willing to endure the fire with me.

I will never forget the call that came from my nurse as my daughter and I sat eating our burgers and fries. Her voice sounded joyful as she told me, ‘Congratulations, Jessica. You are pregnant!’ I had her repeat the information for me and I remember asking, ‘Really?!??!’ repeatedly. I even told her that I loved her as we got off the phone…and then quickly apologized for my misdirected enthusiasm. ‘It happens all the time,’ she laughed.

I called my husband. We were excited, but trying hard not to scare my daughter who was oblivious to what was happening. My next call was to my dad. He and my mom were together and so together they learned that I was pregnant. I was choked up by my relief and also the disbelief that flooded my mind. I was in love with the moment of being able to tell those three people, My People, that maybe the pain in all of this had turned into something new. Something celebratory and amazing.

We had another blood test a few days later to confirm my pregnancy and in between the two tests, I decided to take an at-home test. I told myself it would be a ‘Corrective Experience.’ That is, I would replace the fear and sadness that taking one of those tests triggered in me (due to so MANY negative tests) and replace it with a better experience as it would surely read ‘positive’ and I would then view those tests with less negativity.

Trauma is a funny thing though. It didn’t matter to me that one of the top fertility clinics in the world had confirmed through a blood test that I was pregnant, as I opened that pregnancy test, I felt scared that I wouldn’t see that double pink line I’d been so desperately looking for these past 2 years. I had to talk to myself (out loud) and remind my scared heart that I would see that second line. And when I DID see that second line I cleaned it off and set it on my bathroom counter where it remains to this day. I figured, I’ve been waiting to see that second line for so long, I’m going to put in a place I can see every day. Because it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen…that second line.

And this is the story of how I learned that I was pregnant for the second time in my life. Today, I am visibly pregnant and I feel terrible with nausea that lasts all day long. I appreciate that one week we had to celebrate and savor the happiness of our success. I am grateful for My People who continue to show up for me and my family. Unfortunately, being nauseous has created a numbing effect in my life right now and it’s difficult to feel much beyond the oppressive fog that is nausea. I’m hopeful to be able to write more about the past 8 weeks as I exit my first trimester and begin to feel better. For now, my body is in survival mode. After all, I AM growing a person inside of me right now. 😉

*I am grateful to be pregnant and to be able to share that joy with the people who walked through hell with me to get to this point.