It really starts in 2009, when our journey to becoming parents began. After just six months of marriage, in the midst of nursing school, Nathan and I decided that we did not like the effects and implications of birth control pills, but rather than searching out alternatives, we naively thought that the chances of getting pregnant immediately were low and opted for the not trying/not preventing route. Much to our surprise, I soon found myself two days late and looking at two pink lines. We were terrified and excited...we had been talking about having babies since we were in high school, and knew we wanted lots and wanted them soon, but this was a little more real than we expected.
Just a couple of months after telling everyone and moving from shock, fear, and amazement to excitement and planning, we found out that I had miscarried, and even worse, that it was a rare type of pregnancy that can cause serious and even fatal consequences for the mother. After severe hemorrhaging, surgery, and the worst physical and emotional pain I could imagine, it was over and we were told that we had to wait 12 months to conceive again. We were devastated.
Six months later, we decided that everything had been cleared physically, and that emotionally we were ready to try again--and nursing school was only a few months from ending. So, we began trying--casually at first--in September. By January, we were discouraged and surprised to still not be pregnant--we hadn't yet become experts on fertility and conception and the struggles that millions of people face, even at our age. I did some research and learned some of the things we could do to increase our chances, and finally in April of 2010 we found ourselves pregnant again.
I was slated to start my first nursing job at Rex in just a couple of weeks, and would be getting great insurance coverage along with that, so we waited to tell anyone or make any appointments. Unfortunately, just 10 days after the positive test, we miscarried again. This time being very early, there was much less pain, and emotionally we were more able to cope and remind each other that we were trusting God's timing...but it still hurt and raised the question of whether we would ever be able to be pregnant, and if something might be wrong with me.
I started working, and after the initial orientation period, I was on night shift, like Nathan. We were attempting to work nights and still have normal daytime lives as much as possible, so my body was totally thrown off by the crazy sleep schedule. We had gone back to trying to conceive right away, but things were a little messed up by the changes, and it took a few months to get back on track. Nathan told me he wanted to know as little as possible about the process--that it was putting too much stress and pressure on him, and he wanted to just let it happen naturally. I understood, but it was tough for me to know my body so well by then and not be able to ignore the signs, but keep it to myself when the timing was right, when I was hopeful, and when I was disappointed. I found myself praying constantly for the faith to trust my God's perfect plan and timing, and for the obedience to worship Him alone and not the idol of being a mother.
My Nana died in August, and somehow I had the feeling that we would get pregnant that month, and that it would be a girl...it just seemed right that a little piece of Nana would stay with us that way. Sure enough, just a couple weeks after her death, I took a third positive pregnancy test. Okay, maybe it was a questionably positive test. I KNEW I was pregnant, so I could see that second line, even if Nathan couldn't. He tried to tell me it wasn't there, and help cushion the blow of another month of failing to get pregnant, but I was unconvinced and tested again the next day. This time there was no doubt--two pink lines that even Nathan could see. We looked at each other and both smiled and sighed...unsure whether to let ourselves be excited. We prayed right away, and decided we were going to be hopeful and expect the best and ignore the doubt.
That got hard when just a few hours later, I started bleeding again. By this point, I had very little hope that this could mean anything but a third loss. I made an appointment for blood work as soon as the office opened the following week, and went in to check my hormone levels. The results took a day to get back, and they weren't very helpful--my hcg (pregnancy hormone) level was positive, but low. The way it works is that the number is supposed to double every 48-72 hours, so one test alone means nothing, but only the second test to see how much it has risen. So, we waited an excruciating few days to get my blood drawn again and get the results, and this time it was not too good...my hcg had risen, but not doubled. The nurse told me we would test one more time, but not to get my hopes up too much. Finally, the third test was done and the results were in--my numbers had MORE than doubled! This time, the nurse ended the phone call with a "congratulations, you're pregnant!" and told me we would schedule an ultrasound for six weeks exactly, in hopes of seeing a heartbeat.
In the meantime, the bleeding continued, and we prayed and hoped and tried to think positively. We told our closest friends what was going on, and filled them in since they didn't know that I had even been pregnant the second time, and asked them to pray and hope with us. At six weeks, we finally had an ultrasound and saw the tiny flicker of a heart that had just begun to beat--a moment I will never forget.
Here is a lovely first look at our precious girl (with a helpful tag in case anyone couldn't figure out just what they were looking at in this shot):
To be continued...
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