After our miscarriage, we knew that we obviously had to wait a couple of months before trying again per the doctor's orders. But, we didn't exactly know when we'd emotionally be ready to start trying again, and I just remember feeling completely frustrated by how "up in the air" our future felt.
In November we got to spend this amazing restoring weekend at Figure 8, just the two of us, and that was the first time I remember feeling ready to move forward. I don't know if Kyle was exactly quite in the same place because I know that was a big weekend for him in his healing. I distinctly remember having to have the conversation with him about how he needed to choose happiness, words he'd spoken to me many times. I can't speak for him, but I feel like by the time his birthday weekend rolled around 2 weeks later, and we were back on Figure 8 with his family for the weekend, he was in a much better place and was willing to talk about moving forward, too.
We had a super frustrating conversation with a doctor at the new OB practice that we switched to, in which we were basically told that I needed to put off trying until after I made sure that my thyroid was in check. I left in tears and called my mom on the way home.
But, the fact of the matter was that even if we had gotten the green light from the doctor, my body was having a hard time getting back to its regular self, which we knew could happen following the D&C. Despite the fact that I was tracking temperatures and testing ovulation, everything just seemed out of whack. And, this may be TMI, but because I didn't think that there was a chance I could get pregnant that month we did nothing to prevent pregnancy.
And then, I started having some temperature spikes, which can be a sign of ovulation or pregnancy. And that little part of me that secretly hoped I was pregnant even though I'd been told not to and didn't think was even possible that month started to get butterflies.
Which brings us to the day before Thanksgiving when we went to see an Endocrinologist to start on that whole "getting my thyroid in check" suggestion from the OB. While there, she told us that we should hold off on trying to get pregnant for at least 6 weeks and asked if there was any way I was already pregnant, to which I looked at Kyle kind of baffled and said, something along the lines of, "Well, no we don't think so, but I guess there's always a chance." She ordered a blood test, and we waited a painfully-long few hours to get the phone call saying that the blood test had come back negative for pregnancy.
But that little part of me thought maybe it was just too early to tell.
And, on Thanksgiving morning, I woke up sick, and my waking temperature had gone back down to normal, and I called my mom sobbing and finally spoke the words out loud that I had really wanted to be pregnant again. I cried and cried because isn't that what you do when you're 1. sick and 2. heartbroken. But, I put on my big girl pants and managed to have a great Thanksgiving with Kyle's family before joining my family in Virginia the next day.
I remember telling my cousin, Kathleen, how desperately I'd wanted to be pregnant by Christmas, but that it just didn't look like it was going to happen.
But, God, oh that mysterious, all-knowing One, had His own plan for us.
Because a week or so later, on Dec. 6, after more confusing waking-temperature reads, I took a pregnancy test and saw two lines appear and was absolutely floored. I showed it to Kyle, and I think we were both in shock.
|Kyle would like everyone to excuse his bed-head. It was early on a Saturday morning (hehe!)|
We were absolutely thrilled. We were absolutely terrified.