Thursday, January 31, 2013

Our "Secret", Part Two.

Every pregnancy I've had, my first "indication" of pregnancy has always been an upset stomach.  I attribute that to the initial surge of hormones at the point of implantation, but I'm no doctor.  My husband and I were out of town driving, and I had to make him pull over - find a rest stop - DO something!  I was SICK! 
My husband was all, "You're totally pregnant" when I got back in the car from visiting a McDonald's bathroom.  I looked at him, rolled my eyes dramatically, and said, "Don't joke around about something that serious."

I really didn't believe I was pregnant.  Like I said, in my world, these things need to be mapped out, planned, agonized over.  I proceeded with my life.  I took up jogging.  I drank iced coffees.  I wasn't concerned.

Memorial Day weekend.  I couldn't WAIT to party with one of my best girlfriends.  She was going to bring her husband and their little girl over, and I was so excited to just let loose (once the girls were fast asleep, anyhow).  My husband and I went grocery shopping the day before, and I picked up a bottle of Skinny Girl white peach margarita.  I held it for a few moments before placing it in the shopping cart. 
What was I feeling?  Hesitation suddenly?  Why?  I'd never tried this flavor of Skinny Girl, but it sounded good, so why the nagging feeling I should put the bottle back on the shelf? 

Shrugs.

The next morning, I got out of bed to go pee.  I realized that my husband's accusation of my being pregnant had been in the back of my mind ever since it left his mouth, and I wasn't about to drink alcohol if there was even a chance.  I opened the bottom drawer next to the toilet and took out a home pregnancy test.  (I had a stash of these and also ovulation kits (ha!) built up from the last time we had been trying to conceive.  Whenever we are TTC I tend to test and retest.  I lack patience.  So the Dollar Tree had become my friend.)

I thought to myself, I'm going to prove once and for all that my husband was WRONG, and that tonight, I'm going to do a number on some Skinny Girl.

You can imagine my shock.

That day, I went back to that same grocery store we'd been in the night before, receipt in hand, giggling to myself. 
I only wish I had a photo of that moment.  The moment I went to customer service and exchanged a bottle of margarita for a bottle of prenatal vitamins.

Sunday, January 27, 2013

Our "Secret", Part One.

We were talking about trying for a baby during the summer / fall of 2012, so that we could hope for a rainbow baby in spring or summer 2013, if (fingers crossed) things went smoothly. 

Fate, chance, luck, God, whatever you want to call it...had other ideas.

Our rainbow baby was a total surprise and was conceived Mother's Day weekend, most likely on Mother's Day if you want specifics.  I was tracking my basal body temperature (in order to observe my patterns so we could TTC that summer) and thought I had already ovulated, but apparently not.  In reviewing my chart after the fact and showing it to my OBGYN, we figured it was most likely on Mother's Day.  Which, I don't even know what to say about that.  It sounds really corny, but once I realized that, I had a feeling that Elias had sent me this rainbow baby as a Mother's Day gift. 
My other pregnancies we had to TRY for.  Not as much as others have to try - I've never had to endure fertility treatments, and our first pregnancy (which miscarried) took three months while the second pregnancy took six months.  Not long in the big scheme of things, and I realize many women have to wait much longer than we had to, but when you are ready for a baby...Well, every cycle that you aren't pregnant can feel like a lifetime has passed. 
So it was a really big shock to us that on a cycle we weren't trying we got "lucky".  It kind of feels like more than chance, but of course I will never know.  It having happened on or around Mother's Day feels so magical to me and warms my heart.  People talk about signs and "winks" from their babies they lost - a star in the sky that shines extra bright, a ladybug that lands on their hand, a rainbow that appears in the sky.  Well, finding out we were expecting this baby and the timing of it all felt like the biggest wink from my first born son.

The unlucky people got lucky.

My husband was thrilled.
Before my excitement, there were other reactions that came first, I must admit.  I was shocked, then terrified, and then I just started sobbing.
What was I going to do?  Was I ready for another baby?  What if I had another miscarriage?  What if I had another one in five thousand complication that stole my baby just days from delivery?  Would I survive another loss?  What if it was a girl, and I'd never have a living son?  Would I forever be sentenced to stabs of grief every time I saw a baby boy / passed through the boy clothes in a department store?  What if it was a boy, and people thought we were trying to "replace" our first born son?  What if he looked like Elias?  What if it was all too much to handle?

Countless questions flooded my mind.

And then there was calm.  There was hope.  My mind took me by the shoulders, shook me, and said, "You can't control any of this.  You should know that by now.  Just let it go."

And that's when I allowed the joy to take over. 
And that's when I fell in love with this new little life growing inside of me, without worry or fear, miraculously.
I counted on my fingers and figured the baby would be due in late January, right around my birthday, and again the tears fell as I recognized this amazing "wink" from my first born son. 

I had been given the best Mother's Day present I would ever receive, and I also had the best birthday present to look forward to.

Thursday, January 17, 2013

Our Rainbow!!!

I never announced my pregnancy here, nor on Facebook, nor on any other social media site.  That is a post for another day though, because for now I simply want to introduce somebody.

William Elias was born on Tuesday, January 8th 2013, at 8:53 p.m. at one day shy of 37 weeks.  He weighed 5 lb 13 oz. 19 inches.  He came out kicking and screaming and breathing and doing all of the things I had dreamed for months he would do.  He had a 9 APGAR score and needed no assistance, no NICU time, had no jaundice, and we got to take him home three days later.

His first name honors my father's side of the family and means "strong willed warrior" and "resolute protector", both which seem very appropriate.

His middle name honors his big brother who will never have children of his own to pass down his name to.  Passing on this name is something that warms my heart, something I feel I can do in remembrance of our first son, and something I hope William will take pride in someday.

We mostly call him William, but affectionately he is referred to as both "Will" and "Liam" depending on who is addressing him.  I have a feeling he will grow into a pudgy little Liam, which I think is a very cute baby nickname, but either way I love that he has nickname options for himself as he grows.

Without any further delay, our third child, our second son, our rainbow:


We adore this new little life.
We will always miss our first born.
We welcome this new chapter in our family story.
We are head over heels in love.