The Pregnancy Test in my Underwear Drawer

The last proof that I even was pregnant. 

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I was 4 days past my 5 day transfer. Way too early for me to even think about testing, but I did anyways. I took the test, placed it on the counter and started my timer. It wasn't early in the morning. It was random in the early morning with an old pregnancy test from a previous month of trying to conceive. Days before my first beta test, I was sure the test was going to show negative but I had to take one. The wait was killing me. 

Two of the longest minutes and I couldn't even look at that test. I looked at the counter and in complete disbelief I saw an extremely faint line. I showed my husband who assured me I was seeing things. 

I waited about 7 hours and took another one. The line was darker. Over the next several days I took more and more tests in complete disbelief that finally, after two plus years of trying to conceive I finally saw a test that read, "pregnant".

I was overjoyed. The days following my positive pregnancy test were complete bliss. I told a few people and celebrated in silence, awaiting the days it was safe to tell more and more people. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops. 

I took the cliche´picture of all my needles with my positive test in the middle. 
I told more people. More close friends, more family.
We were over the moon. Our families were over the moon.

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Waiting for the results from my first beta was agonizing. Yes we saw the positive tests, we saw the line getting darker, but I needed to see a good number. I took the whole day off from work, secretly expecting to have a negative result. 

356. My first beta was 356. Again I was overjoyed. I couldn't believe it when they told me. I was beyond happy. I didn't even worry about my second beta because I just knew. 

833. My second beta more than doubled. At this point I was doing everything I could to not share my announcement post. 

When I started bleeding I never thought I was miscarrying. I assumed it was late implantation or from the medications. My numbers were doing way better than I ever imagined. When the bleeding got worse and I went to the doctors my beta was over 4000. Still I thought I wasn't miscarrying, I was wrong. Two days later my numbers dropped from over 4000 to lower than 300. Devastated can't even begin to describe it. 

Days of grief followed. I took some time off from work and laid in bed for days. 

I never got to see my babies on their first ultrasound. I was just 6 weeks, 3 days when we lost them. I only had the tests left to even remember I was pregnant. I had so many and kept them for so long. When I finally discarded the remaining tests I tucked one away in the back of my underwear drawer, I don't even know if my husband knows its there. I don't look at it often but when I do its like a punch in my chest. 

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I loved you before I knew you and love you even though I never met you.

 

For now its just the pregnancy test in my underwear drawer.

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But, who am I?

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Who am I? I'll be honest this isn't a question I've thought about often. Although the first thing that comes to mind is "Mom", is that the only thing?

How did I go from parties and sleepless nights to a six year old and still some sleepless nights?

Did I lose myself on the path to parenthood? Is the only thing I identify as a mom? Is that even a bad thing? Personal identity is something I struggle with more often than not. What group I belong in or which friends I surround myself with fluctuates frequently. 

Even as I'm typing this out I'm struggling with what to say. 

I do know this the most important thing to me to be is a mom. I have had my own struggles with even being a mom. Although conceiving my six year old came easy the second one, not so much. My husband and I have been trying to conceive number two since August of 2015. Fast forward three years and we still aren't expecting. This path of infertility is filled with heartache and more stress than I can even begin to express in words. After being diagnosed with blocked tubes we realized In-Vitro Fertilization(IVF) was the path for us. Although our first IVF transfer ended sadly in a miscarriage somehow we are gearing up for round two. 

The desire for more children is more than I can explain, or even begin to. My husband and I want nothing more than to get pregnant again, although we love our son dearly. Everyday I know how blessed I am to even have a son at all. 

So who am I? I'll be honest...I'm a mom. I'm more proud and more grateful daily that I even get to be one at all. This is my biggest accomplishment and embodies more of my life than anything. 

Yes I am Irish, I'm loud, I'm funny, I'm kind, I'm political. BUT, I'm a mom.

-Patricia
 

 

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The Why Me Factor

 

Why me? Why us? Two thoughts that I can’t help but think from time to time. Why were we put in this path that leads to so much heartbreak. Years of doctors appointments, years of blood draws, YEARS of not being pregnant. 

When I had my IUD removed in August of 2015 the doctor told me that I was “fertile Myrtle” and I should be pregnant in no time. 

Fast forward three years and here we are. Still not pregnant. Still heartbroken. Still waiting.  

Everyday I know just how blessed we are to have our six year old James. I know there are so many couples struggling just like we are to become pregnant with their first. I can’t even begin to imagine how much that must hurt even more.  

Not to discount secondary infertility AT ALL, I just can’t wrap my head around how the other must feel.  

I digress, back to my point. The “Why me?” Factor. Although this is a state of mind I tend to struggle with daily. Just like many others on this journey I tend to struggle silently. As not to put my emotions out into the world. Infertility is as common as 1 in 4 women, yet it’s never openly discussed.  

Why me is a state of mind, one that can be hard to get away from sometimes. And some days you need to sit and cry and scream “WHY ME?”   

But, most days, you don’t. You can do this, just like every other 1 in 4. You are strong. You are powerful. And you are not alone. It will get easier. It will be worth it in the end.

With love,

Patricia