International Double Date!

You remember Jenn, right? Our fabulous friend (and author of this equally fabulous blog) who we visited in Canada this summer? Well, Jenn had a goal this year to try 10 new recipes this year. When she set that goal, I suggested that we try one of those new recipes "together"--meaning we'd make it on the same night and have a long-distance "double date." It took us a little while to get it together, but we finally did!

Since Jenn is both gluten-free and dairy-free, the recipe selection was up to her, but Jeff and I had no complaints when she sent us the link to this Paleo Pulled Pork. (Alright... well, living in the South now, we were a little skeptical--particularly of the pineapple included in the ingredient list--but we were still game!)

Since the recipe is a crock pot one, we started by gathering the ingredients for the sauce the night before (Wednesday).

Don't be fooled--neither one of these sous-chefs was any help at all! :-)

The next step was putting together the sauce in our Cuisinart, which actually turned out to be incredibly easy.

One of my supposed sous-chefs is still clowning around!

In just ten minutes, my jars were sealed! I'd been sending texts to Jenn throughout the process (the poor girl was knocked down with a cold and not ready to start the cooking process yet!), and she approved our product.

By this time, Rosie had grown tired of the process, but Jeff was still enjoying photo-bombing!

Before going to bed that night, Jeff helped me cut our massive pork shoulder into two parts (we actually used a bone-in cut of meat for more flavor) so it would fit in our not-so-big Crock-Pot. The next step came at 6AM the next morning (Thursday)--but I spared you the photo. At that point, I took the ceramic Crock-Pot out of the fridge, put it in the metal holder, added some salt, pepper, and garlic plus the broth, and turned it on low for the next eight hours. 

When I got home at 2:00PM that afternoon, I discovered two things: 1) our house smelled amazing, and 2) the small portion of pork that hadn't been covered by broth was impossible to shred. So, since I only had 30 minutes before leaving for a doctor's appointment, I made do by shredding everything that would, removing the bone, adding the sauce and onions, putting the "roasted" part (that hadn't softened in the broth) in whole, and letting it go for another 5 hours.

And what deliciousness awaited that night (when even the "roasted" pork was so simple to shred)! Even Jeff was impressed by the time he got home, and he was more than ready to dig in by 7:30pm. We roasted some sweet potatoes to put on the side (just sliced sweet potatoes, salt, pepper, and olive oil in the oven at about 425 degrees for 45 minutes or so), which we thought would be a perfect compliment.

At that point, in spite of reminding Jeff this was supposed to be a double date and Jenn's pork wasn't quite yet ready, there was no holding him back. Thankfully, Jenn and Dan were awfully understanding and let us dive in first!

And dive in we did! (There's no telling how fast Button will get ravenous on any given night--and this night, once she smelled the pork, she went from zero to sixty in no time at all.)

Was it pulled pork like we traditionally think of pulled pork? Not exactly. Was it still delicious? Totally! Did it make enough to feed us for the rest of that week plus portions to freeze? Definitely! And was it awesome to have our first international double date? Absolutely! :-)

To read Jenn's account of our double date, check out her post here.

There's a first time for... a lot of things!

After our incredible anatomy scan last week, we kicked off a week of "firsts" that still haven't stopped! Each one was a new step towards being parents, which made each one a little more terrifying than the last, but I imagine this is the kind of dual exhilaration/fear we'll be facing as we raise our daughter for years to come. Perhaps this is just God's way of gently starting to train us...

The First Time We've Been Half-Baked

It's nearly impossible to believe, but it's been 20 weeks since we started our injections way back in early May, which means that we're halfway to Button's arrival! (And I know she's going to grow oh-so-much in the four and a half months remaining, but I can't believe how small my belly still is most days!) We feel so incredibly blessed to have reached this incredible milestone and to know that our little girl is just going to bake away for the next 20 weeks (give or take) before we get to snuggle her in our arms.

A little mama-Button treat for tonight--some Ben and Jerry's "Half-Baked"
frozen yogurt to celebrate our little girl's big milestone!

The First Big Purchase

After much research and deliberation, Jeff and I were pretty set on the Britax Travel System (stroller and infant car seat), but we were going to wait on purchasing it for a while yet... until we learned that the color we'd fallen in love with (the kiwi green pictured above) was being discontinued. Oh--and it was on 25% off sale at our new favorite baby store, Great Beginnings. So Button now has her first set of wheels, and Daddy will proudly tell anyone who asks that his girls will be seen when they cross the street! Up next: ordering the glider and ottoman that we've finally decided on--and here's Jeff with a preview of the wood and fabric.

The First Time I've Celebrated Button with My Students

On Monday morning, it was finally time to let the bump fly! I gathered my eleven senior girls in advisory--the girls I've been watching grow and helping on their journeys for four years now--and placed the cake (pictured above) on the table in front of them. Their reactions were nothing short of exuberant--there were hugs from each and every one, a plethora of questions (to find out the gender, they had to cut into the cake!), and a babble of excited voices as they began planning a shower, babysitting rotation, and general care of their soon-to-be "little sister." By the end of the block, they'd tweeted the news to the whole senior class, and the rest of the day was a blur of hugs, cheers, and well-wishes from the students I love so much. I couldn't have dreamed up anything better!

The First Work Maternity Clothes

After dragging my feet forever, I finally bought some maternity work pants (and shirts) this week--thank goodness for GapMaternity! This week at school has been the most comfortable one since we started classes four weeks ago; my Bella Bands did their jobs as long as they were able, but they've now been retired. And the added bonus? Full-panel maternity pants really highlight Button's (little) bump in some (slightly bigger) ways!

*   *   *

With all these exciting milestones, though, comes a time of reflection on how life was a year ago. When Jeff and I learned that a dear friend had an early miscarriage yesterday--her third--our hearts broke as we remembered our own anguish. Perhaps our joy is that much sweeter because of what has gone before, but it cannot erase the heartache of the past.

Last night, a good friend sent me the picture below accompanied by this message: "You were sad that night. What a difference a year can make."

How right she is. The photo was taken at a Zac Brown Band concert last October. It was one of the first chilly fall nights, we had tickets to stand right next to the stage, we were with a huge crew of friends, and the band is one of our favorites. And yet I spent the night in tears. We'd just finished our first IUI, and I was convinced it wouldn't work (turns out, I was right). I was devastated to think of how much money we'd spent just for a chance at a child of our own, and I was grasping for hope but finding none. In spite of Jeff's arm wrapped tightly around me and his attempt to inspire a genuine smile from me, I was just sad.

What a difference a year makes. Because you know what the best "first" of this week was? The look on my sweet husband's face last night when he felt his daughter kick him for the first time. The surprise and joy, the shock and delight was enough to make me giggle out loud. He looked at my belly in awe, hand pressed against my skin, and whispered, "Hello, little girl."

"Hello" indeed, sweet world of firsts.

Inch by Inch, Row by Row--Looks Like Our Garden's Ready to Grow!

I think it's time.

We're sort of past the point of no return; my belly has outstretched all of my pants, our friends and family are all overjoyed, and even my students will finally officially find out on Monday. So, without further ado, please welcome our little Button to Inch by Inch!

Our Baby Button

As you will find (should you choose to read through the dozen or so posts, beginning here, that I'm now finally publishing below this one), our third injections/IUI cycle resulted in this pregnancy back in the beginning of June. There were numerous early moments of anxiety, but, thanks to a fabulous team at Shady Grove Fertility, we were well monitored each step of the way. You can walk through the last four months and share our fears and worries, our milestones and celebrations, and our ultimate joy--or, if you're a bit more impatient, you can just celebrate today with us.

Yesterday, our Baby Button turned 19 weeks. Today, we went for our anatomy scan, the "big" ultrasound where we'd get to see all of Button's organs developing and learn if things were alright. Oh--and where we'd find out the gender, if our little one turned out to miraculously not be as stubborn as mom.

Guess what? She wasn't stubborn at all, and she is pretty darn perfect.

That's right--Lord willing, on or around February 13, 2014, our little daughter will be entering the world. She will be greeted with more love than she can imagine, buoyed by more prayers than she can fathom, and surrounded with an abundance of family--both the ones of our blood and the ones of our hearts. She will be the rainbow after the two-year storm that her mommy and daddy have endured. And she will be worth every bit of pain--physical and emotional. We know that, because she already is.

When I started this blog in early January 2012, it was supposed to be Blueberry's story. For a while, it became a winding road full of grief and hope, despair and possibility. Our sweet little Beanster took over for a few brief weeks before the darkness set back in--until we found our way back into the Light. And now it becomes Button's story--and our story and Beanster's story and Blueberry's story--for Button's story cannot be written without those other ones, the ones that came before, the ones that paved the way, the ones that taught us that grief is not everlasting and that joy does return one bright morning after the darkest night we've known.

Thank you for standing by us through the years of darkening shadows. Now we can't wait to rollick with you in the sunshine!

Button is Popping!

Written September 14, 2013.

It's been a whirlwind couple of weeks with the start of school, and all my energy has been devoted to getting to know my new students, making sure I'm doing a solid job of meal planning for the week, and--of course--growing a human. There's not much energy left over for this mama--which is why you're getting a 2-for-the-price-of-one post.

On the first day of school, my Button bump became decidedly harder and more fixed; instead of taking all day before I looked pregnant, there were noticeable changes right from the time my alarm went off at 6AM. Of course, that also means my school clothes aren't fitting as well as I might hope, so there's been a lot of Bella band-ing to get me through the days. At 17 weeks in the evening (as you can see above), the bump was quite substantial, which is why 18 weeks (taken in the afternoon) looks perhaps a bit less obvious.

Actually, that would be 18 weeks, 2 days. It was quite a job to get my photo done this week! The first attempt was on Thursday night, the actual day I turned 18 weeks, when I had a 14-hour day at school, thanks to Back to School night. When Jeff came upstairs to get my photo, this was all he found:

So, 18 weeks exactly was a bit of a bust. Instead, we went for 18 weeks, 1 day, on Friday night, before we went out to dinner with friends. I'd just bought my first maternity dress--which I was super-excited to wear--but the amount of primping and preening I did made us run late, so all we managed was this shot:

And so we arrived at today, 18 weeks, 2 days, and the photo at the top of this post. It's quite a milestone--I'm wearing my first ever pair of maternity jeans, and I love them! I was trying to hold out until after our anatomy scan, but Button didn't really get on board with that plan, so I caved. Oh--and we have one more photo to show from this week (one that we're planning to repeat in the weeks to come!):

It's hard to believe that the next post I write will be the one after our anatomy scan, after we (hope and pray to) see our healthy little wiggly worm, after we find out whether we've got a little boy or girl on the way in February. And it will finally be the post where Button goes public in the world.

Such big steps for such a little one.

Button's First Storytime

Written August 29, 2013.

Jeff and Button discover Ferdinand the Bull--together.

I decided it was high time for Button to have a little evening story time, so, when we curled up in bed last night, Jeff brought Ferdinand the Bull--a children's story given to me by my wonderful aunt. Button is just big enough now that the swell in my belly shows, even when I'm lying down, and Jeff did and excellent job of getting right down to Button's level to read. I'm not sure who was more entranced by the story and accompanying pictures--Jeff, Button, Rosie, Guillie, or Ozzy--but it was definitely our first family story time, and it was perfect.

I can't wait for all the stories we have to discover and write together!

Oh--and today we are 16 weeks! Looks like Button is definitely itching to be seen by the world, whether I'm ready or not...

Whoosh-Whoosh!

Written August 23, 2013.

Jeff and I had the incredible joy of hearing the most wonderful sound in the world this morning: Button's whooshing heartbeat on our doctor's Doppler! Since it's been almost a month since our last appointment, and since many of my symptoms have faded but I can't feel movement yet, it's often hard to believe Button is really in there. And so, while I went into today's appointment with more hope than I did in the first trimester, there was still that little doubt, until that wonderful whooshing began!

Our doctor was able to find the heartbeat immediately and told us Button is squirming around and sounds perfect. Those were wonderful words to hear, but the best part of the morning was simply lying back, holding Jeff's hand, closing my eyes, and listening to that sweet, sweet rhythm.

Our family suffered a kind of loss yesterday; my parents' second home burned in a sudden fire in the wee hours of the morning. Blessedly, they were not there and no one was injured, and the firefighters worked tirelessly all day to prevent the fire from spreading to other houses on the street. We lost a lot of things--some of them mere articles of clothing or pieces of furniture, but others much more sentimental--the creche my dad's best friend built for us, the cross I stitched for my mum in college, the framed collection of verses on fathers and mothers that I gave my parents in high school. The memories contained in those things remain, but the tangible reminders of those memories are no longer ours to hold.

And yet, how good is our God? In the midst of loss, our family is celebrating the joy of new life as we begin sharing our news with our extended family and friends. In the destruction of treasured memories, there are new memories created as we hear a heartbeat for the first time. In the realization that nothing is truly ours on this earth, there is the reminder that our Father gives us the greatest gifts on loan from heaven for a little while.

Button, you are so loved--not just by your mom and dad, but now by a much larger world who can't wait to meet you. You are a tiny (navel-orange-sized!) ball of hope already, and I am so blessed to hold you securely in my tummy, protecting you as best I know how.

Hello, Second Tri!

Written August 17, 2013.

Somebody was pretty excited about the Button belly this morning!

I really thought this week would be the post that introduced Button to my lovely, blog-reading public, but it turns out that my much-anticipated lessening of anxiety with the start of second trimester hasn't been as seamless as I hoped. Don't get me wrong--I'm thrilled to be 14 weeks, 2 days today, but I'm no less terrified that something will go wrong.

Actually, that's not entirely true--with 6 ultrasounds behind us (including stellar results from the NT scan that put our risk of three significant trisomy disorders very low) and the confidence of our doctors supporting us, I certainly feel better than I did at 5-7 weeks. But it was still terrifying to tell our families last week, I nearly had a panic attack when Jeff told a close friend and neighbor today, and I've already delayed the plan to tell our church family and close co-workers until at least after our next check-up (at 15 weeks, 1 day). Jeff has started teasing me about how I'll just wait to tell anyone until I show up with a stroller and a newborn--and he just may be getting close to the truth!

All those worries can't stop me from posting round two of bump (or lack-of-bump) photos, though! (It should be noted that the week 12 photos were taken in the morning, meaning the "Button bloat" hadn't set it yet, while the photos from weeks 13 and 14 below were from evening photo sessions--hence the "blump" factor that makes me look much bigger than week 12!)

So, without further ado, here's 13 weeks (taken at my parents' beautiful farm in the northwest corner of Connecticut).

And, not yet a big difference, but here's 14 weeks (at the farm once again).

One of the friends in my online support group referred to this stage of pregnancy as "ninja baby"--and she's exactly right! It's tough to have many symptoms lessening, to go from doctor's appointments every 1-2 weeks to check-ups once a month, and yet not to have a real bump or flutters of movement to reassure me all is well with Button. I'm grateful for the distraction of summer school next week, which will hopefully help the time fly until our appointment next Friday.

And then, maybe--just maybe--Button will be ready to meet the world.

Major Milestones

Written August 2, 2013.

Button napping during our first trimester screening scan (11 weeks, 5 days)

This week, we hit two points I didn't ever trust that we would, and I'm still marveling at both of them!

First, when Button was 11 weeks, 5 days on Tuesday, we had our first trimester screening scan (also known as the NT scan). If you haven't been down the road of loss, you might think of this scan as the "Down Syndrome scan," but the reality is that doctors are combining bloodwork results, measurements from the ultrasound, and personal history to give you risk levels for several trisomy (chromosomal) disorders--only one of which is Down Syndrome. While bloodwork takes 5-10 days to come back, we were able to hear immediate results from the ultrasound itself--and they were remarkable!

A 3D image of our sweet Button--a little alien-like, but we're in love!

Button has a tiny little stomach, two arms, two legs, and even two brain hemispheres! But what the NT scan is particularly interested in is whether there's a nasal bone present and how thick the fluid at the back of the neck is (thicker than 2.5-3mm is a soft marker for several trisomy disorders). Not only does our little Button already have a nasal bone, but the fluid was only .9mm! While we expect that our risk levels will go up a bit once the bloodwork comes in (given my age), we left the appointment overjoyed.

And the second milestone?

That's right--Button is 12 weeks today, and--at Jeff's encouragement--we took our first weekly "bump photo." It's still hard to really comprehend that we're on the cusp of the second trimester, that we've had our first major screening, and that our little Button is alternately squirming and sleeping inside my belly. While I'm grateful I'm still feeling so well, it's often tough to remember that I'm really "this" pregnant (though the fact that a 2-mile walk had me panting should be some kind of indicator, I suppose).

I'm still taking deep breaths. I hope Button is, too, because there's a major debut afoot when we start telling family next week!

One squirmy little Button (and one proud daddy)!

Written July 26, 2013.

11 weeks, 1 day

I know, I know. I'm the mom, and I'm going to think that our Button is just the cutest peanut ever, but isn't this amazing?! In this photo taken at our first OB appointment appointment this morning, you can see the little eye, the right arm down by the side, and the left arm up by the face. What an incredible gift this technology is to us!

Button started the ultrasound by taking a little nap. Our doctor assured us that we were measuring right on track, that the heartbeat was strong, and that sleeping was normal--and necessary!--for our little one. But then, moments later, the wiggling began! First, it was a wave of the hand, then a stretch of the tiny legs. Just like Rosie trying to find the perfect nook in which to nap, Button squirmed all around his/her little home, much to our joy-filled--and a bit teary--delight.

For me, though, the best moment of the appointment was turning to watch Jeff's face. Like a child entranced by a large aquarium, Jeff stared in awe at his son or daughter, mouth open in a disbelieving smile, occasionally emitting a soft "oh!" or "wow!" To see that amazement, that child-like joy given to him by his own child, made all the pain and heartache of the last 24 months bearable. I am so proud of this incredible father-to-be.

Today was a momentous milestone, and our doctor assures us that we can truly relax, that so much movement and such a strong heartbeat at this stage is a wonderful indicator of Button's health and growth. Next week, we will begin telling our families, then our church, and finally our jobs. With everything becoming so joyfully and disbelievingly real, leave it to me to find a new worry.

How am I going to get this house ready for a baby in 6 months?!

Inching Towards Another Milestone

Written July 24, 2013.

It's been just over 2 weeks since I wrote a Button post, and I'm not quite sure why. Perhaps the trip to England distracted me or perhaps I'm just not as frantic as I was at the outset (though it doesn't feel that way). Either way, here I am, 11 weeks tomorrow, and simultaneously thrilled and terrified for the milestones that lie ahead.

I don't think I've yet let myself truly embrace the idea that I'm pregnant. Even though I had to use my Bella Band to make my shorts fit for church last Sunday, even though I spent much of the time at the movie theatre last night squirming thanks to some terrific gas, even though two good girlfriends--after not seeing me for nearly two weeks--immediately commented on physical changes in my body, it doesn't seem real. As I approach the second trimester and become a little less tired and a little more myself, it seems surreal that there might be a little squirming acrobat doing flips in my tummy, so tiny and small that I can't yet feel them.

The last time we saw Button was at the ultrasound pictured above, at 8 weeks, 5 days. Everything was perfect, and our RE couldn't have been more pleased with the strong heartbeat or right-on-track growth. Jeff begged me to take his words to heart, to believe that all is well, to trust that Button is safely snuggled in for the long haul. And I'm trying to believe all those things--but it remains a challenge.

We approach the next milestone in less than 48 hours: on Friday morning, July 26, we'll go in for our first OB appointment. Perhaps that will make it all more real? I've looked at pictures online of 11 week ultrasounds and know Button should be looking a whole lot less gummi-bear-ish and a whole lot more person-ish. And then next Tuesday will be the first of two major screenings; this one, called the NT scan, will look for the presence of certain characteristics that, in combination with bloodwork, will help determine any potential risks for Trisomy or Down Syndrome. It's hard to believe we may actually make it to that scan--it's been such a mythical milestone for so long.

For today, though, I'll just try to take deep breaths and trust. After all, it's our fourth wedding anniversary tomorrow, and that deserves a bit of celebration on its own, doesn't it?

Every storm runs out of rain...

Written July 2, 2013.

Look what a difference two weeks makes!

When you've lived in the world of specialists and infertility treatments long enough, you know about Graduation Day: that magical day when the RE sends you off to your OB because he's confident enough in the progress of your little one. On Beanster's graduation day--at 7 weeks, 6 days gestation--we got the terrible news that his little heart had stopped beating, so it's no wonder that I didn't sleep a wink last night and cried through most of the morning as I prepared for Button's graduation day appointment.

As I got in the car to head to the office, the radio sang to life immediately. The song isn't one of my favorites, but I was captivated by the precise lyrics that filled the car at the moment the engine started: "Every storm runs out of rain, / Just like every dark night turns into day." I put a whole lot of stock in my faith but not a whole lot in signs, but this one was just too much--was it possible God was reassuring me that today was the day when our rain would finally stop and our rainbow would begin?

Once we were brought back into the ultrasound room, the waterworks started, and poor Jeff could do nothing more than hold me as I indelicately got snot all over the shoulder of his handsome new Polo. By the time our wonderful doctor came in, I must have looked like a wreck--but he seemed to understand. Without hesitating, he started the scan as I gripped Jeff's hand and stared at his face. And then came those wonderful words:

"Baby."

"Heartbeat."

And there was our little Button, so much bigger than anything we've ever seen on an ultrasound before, heart flickering away at 173bpm. And the tears came back, but for a much better reason this time.

Are we out of the woods? Of course not. Will we ever be, even when we hold our sweet little Button in our arms? Not really. But today is a good day. Today, our little family overcame a milestone and celebrated what we hope is only the first of many graduations.

Our little Drama Queen (or King!)

Written June 21, 2013.

Button gave us yet another scare this morning. Despite spotting having lightened up significantly in the past 48 hours, I woke up to red blood again. Combine that fact with the lack of any significant symptoms, and my fears were through the roof. Thankfully, our wonderful medical team was quick-acting as always and brought us in for an ultrasound right away.

And you know what? Miracle of miracles, there was our little Button, measuring right on track (6 weeks, 1 day), with a measurable heartbeat! That's right--it was officially flickering right along at 129 bpm. That feels so good--especially since Beanster's heart rate was a bit on the slower side (111 bpm) at this point in that pregnancy.

Okay, Button, you got my attention. Now, could you stop stressing your momma out so much? She needs to stay healthy for you!

Introducing our Lil' Button

Written June 17, 2013.

Our little Button, with a tiny flickering heartbeat!

Before walking into the offices this morning, Jeff and I held hands in the car and prayed. We asked for peace and comfort with whatever God's will might be, but we also boldly prayed for a joyful outcome, for a pregnancy that was on track. (We knew what that meant: at 5 weeks, 4 days, we hoped to see a gestational sac and maybe a yolk sac.) And so we went in.

On the elevator ride up to the office suite, I asked Jeff how he felt. His first reply wasn't surprising, given the coffee mug he was gripping in his hand: "Tired." Then he elaborated, explaining how he truly believed nothing was wrong and all would be on track, but, after a pause, he looked a little deflated. With a sigh, he admitted his fear: he'd thought nothing was wrong the last two times, but that sadly wasn't the case.

Our wonderful doctor saw us immediately, and he was full of joyful enthusiasm. In spite of his apparent confidence, I refused to watch the ultrasound monitor, instead alternating between his face and Jeff's. First came the relief when he announced the presence of a gestational sac measuring just the right size in my uterus. Next came the sweet surprise of a yolk sac, also measuring exactly on track. But then came the complete shock.

After asking me to press down on my belly a bit to get a better view, our doctor began to measure our tiny little Button (who we didn't even expect to see!) and then he asked us to lean in a bit closer so we, too, could see the most wonderful sight: a little flickering heartbeat.

Yes, we've been here before, and it's hard not to ask the "what ifs" that our next ultrasound may bring. But today we have a tiny baby growing in my belly--quite the over-achiever, as you usually don't see a heartbeat until the sixth week!--and that's enough. Enough, in fact, for us to even finally give it a name.

So, meet our Button, because not only do we pray it will stick to me like a button, but we also know that it's going to be cute as a button come February 13, 2014!

What no pregnant woman wants to see.

Written June 16, 2013.

Thursday night, Jeff and I were enjoying a lovely and unexpected evening together at home (as his show had been canceled). We'd just finished up the grilled fish tacos (shark for Jeff--but, since that's too high in mercury for me, I'd stuck to shrimp) and were getting into the first half hour of a new BBC America miniseries when the pregnant lady needed to go to the bathroom. And that's when I saw it for the first time: pale pink on the toilet paper.

I've never seen spotting in either of my pregnancies, aside from one brief round for which we had an explanation. This time, the spotting was completely unexpected, a potentially terrifying color, and preceded by mild cramps throughout the day. I surprised myself with my calm as I told Jeff what was going on and then called my nurse to leave a message for the morning. Like me, Jeff remained even keeled, logically walking through possible explanations--but his sense of peace came from a lack of worry whereas mine came from a resolve to bolster myself and prepare to endure the same heartbreak for a third time. After discussing possible effects on our weekend plans and checking in with M to let her know what was going on, we curled up on the sofa to pray. We boldly asked for the miracle we desire with all our hearts but also honestly submitted to God's will; we prayed for minute details (like my ability to get a good night's rest) and big-picture ideas (like our road to growing our family). We reminded each other that we are tasked, in 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, to "be joyful always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances for this is God's will." (Oh--and we let our God know that we were more than a little frustrated with Him and His will at this point, because we figured he knows our hearts anyway, so we might as well put it out there.)

By Friday morning, small prayers were answered: the pink spotting had changed to light brown (which is a good sign) and I'd slept through the night. Our wonderful nurse called at 7:15AM just to calm my mind, then immediately called back once she'd spoken with our doctor. We determined that there would be little to see on an ultrasound that morning (and any attempts to do so would just irritate my cervix further), so--knowing that there's a 24-hour nurse on call Saturday and Sunday--we agreed to wait the weekend out and go in Monday morning.

It's now Sunday night. In the last 72 hours, not much has changed--Jeff remains even-keeled, I continue to try to take deep breaths, mild cramping and pulling sensations continue around my abdomen, and there's still brown (and occasionally pink) spotting. But we have made it through this weekend. Together. I am not too anxious about tomorrow morning's ultrasound (which should help determine, even at this early stage, if this pregnancy is headed down a path towards viability), a fact which surprises me. Rather, this is just another stage in our journey and, like so many of the previous ones, looking too far into alternate futures only sends me down a rabbit hole from which I can't easily return.

So, instead, it's just more waiting.

Another Two Week Wait

Written June 13, 2013.

Those familiar with the world of trying to conceive--and particularly those familiar with trials that infertility brings--are all too familiar with the 2WW (the acronym we use in online communities). The brief biology lesson (because I needed one when we first started trying in July 2011!) is this: the "typical" woman has a 28 day cycle where she ovulates on or around day 14 and will know by day 28 (or sometimes even earlier) if she's pregnant. For the first 14 days of a cycle, she tracks her temperature and calculates her fertile window--or, in my case, she goes to monitoring appointments and gets nightly injections. Once ovulation has been confirmed--or, in the case of a medicated cycle, the Ovidrel trigger shot has been given and the IUI has been completed--she enters the dreaded Two Week Wait: a period of quiet anxiety and endless questioning. Every twinge, every temperature dip, every food craving is analyzed to see if it might indicate pregnancy. In the case of my doctor's office, in the 2WW, I was also required to "act pregnant," meaning no alcohol, no sushi, no hot tubs, no caffeine, and the list goes on. But, if those two little lines show up two weeks later, it's all been worth it.

Yesterday, we completed our third and final beta blood draw. Our numbers were good--they doubled once again within the 48 hour window that they're supposed to, and my doctor declared that I no longer needed to have my arm poked at 6:45AM. Instead, I was allowed to schedule our first ultrasound for sometime in our sixth week of pregnancy; given Jeff and my schedules, it will be on Tuesday, June 25, when I'm 6 weeks, 5 days pregnant. But that's nearly two weeks away, so here I am again, exactly where I was in November/December 2012.

This early in pregnancy, there's not much to tell me that things are going well--or, really, that anything is going on at all. I'm exhausted--but Jeff would tell you that I'm always prone to a 9:30PM bedtime. I'm ravenously hungry--but I would tell you that I'll never turn down food. So this turns into another two week wait, a time of quiet and reflection as we anxiously await our first chance to see our little one.

Waiting is hard.

Resentment and Relief.

Written June 10, 2013.

This is hard to admit, but I'm promising myself I'll be honest in these posts that share our emotional journey as we start this third pregnancy. So here's today's dose of honesty: I resent being pregnant again.

Let me be clear: I don't resent the baby growing in my belly. I don't resent the expenses and pain it took to get us here. I don't resent my amazing husband or the handful of friends we've asked to support us in these early days. But I resent actually being pregnant again and not knowing what will happen tomorrow or next week or next month, yet assuming the outcome will be the same as it's been before. I resent the loss of innocent joy and naive hope. I resent the fact that Jeff and I seem unable to attach to this pregnancy at all, in spite of our solid first beta and "beautiful doubling" number today (my nurse's words, not mine).

I want so badly to fall in love with the little life inside of me, to give it a cute nickname, to plan the adorable way we'll tell our families in August. I wish I could blithely peruse baby websites and daydream about nursery themes. Instead, though, I find myself googling statistics on successful pregnancies after multiple unexplained losses and nervously asking my doctor if I can start taking baby aspirin, just so I can feel like I'm doing something different this time around. I can't get past wondering if I'll have to endure another D&C before we go to London in July or simply waiting for the other shoe to drop--and the potential shoes are infinite, with all the knowledge I've gained in this journey.

Someone told me the other day that they simply couldn't fathom what Jeff and I have been through, enduring the "double hells" of infertility and repeat pregnancy loss. We try not to think of it that way, and Jeff is always good at revising my vision so the glass appears half full. This is simply the road we have to walk today, and there's no point in dwelling on why it's the one we were put on.

There is a tiny glimmer of... something, though. The relief today of knowing that my betas are doubling as they should be, the kindness of my nurse who patiently listened to my terror and readily agreed that starting a baby aspirin regimen would be good for my mind (even if it's not necessary for my body), the loyalty of M, who came over for several hours this evening just to distract me by watching The Carrie Diaries.

I wish I knew what the next post title will be, but I have no magic ball. Instead, I'll have to be content with finding the glass a little more full tonight than it was this morning.

A Little Lovebug?

Written June 6, 2013.

Two lines.

Two.

Twice--once yesterday afternoon, once this morning.

Two.

Jeff saw them, too.

Two lines, saying a little lovebug just might be growing in my belly.

The first time we did an IUI cycle, I took a home pregnancy test two days before I was scheduled for bloodwork. It was stark white, and it put me into a frenzy for the next two days. I wavered between thinking I'd just tested too early to knowing the truth--that the cycle wasn't successful. When the call came after bloodwork, with it came the waterworks.

The second time, I didn't test at home--because I had every pregnancy symptom in the book already. I was trying desperately to convince myself it wasn't true (so I wouldn't be disappointed), but the reality was that I knew the IUI had worked. When the call came in, Jeff and I were so exhilarated that he screamed and I dropped the phone--we just "knew" this had to be the one. As you know, though, that ended in waterworks, too.

This time, I don't have a single symptom--other than exhaustion (which I can also chalk up to the hectic pace of the end of the year as a teacher). This time, I broke the rules a bit in the two weeks after the IUI--I kept running (though I slowed my pace a bit), went on a crazy camping trip (with an infection, nonetheless!), and even took sips of Jeff's beer or wine here and there. As a result, with M. coming over for dinner last night, I decided to just take a test at home so I could "rule out" pregnancy and enjoy a glass of wine. But those two little lines had something different in mind for me.

Jeff and I aren't excited--yet. We still believe it might just be a trick, a blip in hormones caused by something other than pregnancy that turned that second line pink. Jeff says he's holding out for the bloodwork Friday--but I'm holding out for August, when I'd be out of the first trimester. Last night, my brain started running wild, thinking about what time I'd take off at school and when I'd be able to tell colleagues, friends, and family, but I quickly reigned it back in. I've gone down that rabbit hole twice and had to crawl back out when it all fell apart. I'm not ready to do that again.

So, for now, the little lovebug is our little secret. Or at least we hope there's a little lovebug to have as our secret.