Day 1

Yesterday was definitely the biggest Friday of my life. I am still processing.

To know that our little angel baby is back inside my body, exactly where it is meant to be, floods me with feelings of peace.  At the same time, my brain is cycling through thoughts of what can I be doing to make sure this works and how am I going to survive the next 10 days?.

And of course I know I will.  

I will stay present. One baby step at a time. A to B. Not A to Z. 

With my decaf cup of coffee (a glug of heavy cream, no sweetener) and my words. This little slice of the ether where I can put It All.  

That is how I will do it.  I will take it one singular moment at a time.

My daughter will be up soon.  I gaze at her on the monitor (I can’t seem to give up the monitor habit even though she is almost 4).  Our Saturday morning routine consists of long hours in our pjs, smoothies for breakfast, endless books, tea parties and probably jumping in the pool (usually while still in said pjs) all before 9am.  Then we’ll head to gymnastics. I’ll de-junk my inbox or bring a book to read (an actual book with paper pages and a cover) while I’m watching her walk the balance beam, practice wheel pose and play on the pirate ship (her favorite part).   

While everything about me feels different and new and changed inside (I’m Pregnant! I’m Pregnant! This is my mantra.), my day will be blissfully predictable.  Routine and ordinary. 

We are having friends over for dinner tonight.  And I don’t have to grocery shop, prep, cook, serve, or clean up. With six friends and a great chef coming over to do all the doing that accompanies having people over for dinner I can focus on flowers + candles + good music + the perfect lighting. And then on connection, conversation, food, laughter and being surrounded  by people I love in my favorite place, Home. And I don’t think for one minute I will stop thinking about this strong, thriving new life inside of me.  

Day 2

Was up too late last night, but sometimes it’s worth it. 

I felt the sleepiness when my eyes naturally opened at 5:45am after a little less than 6 hours of sleep.  No matter what time I go to bed (usually by 9/9:30pm) my circadian rhythm is locked in and I wake between 5:30-5:45am every.single.morning.  So whether it’s 9pm or 1am, my body still rallies for the day as the sun is rising (or before). I am wholeheartedly a morning person. And I have a toddler. So sleeping in is not part of my current vocabulary.   

So this wee morning hour is it. My sliver of time to dip into my little space, putting words to all my feels.  It’s funny, but even though I have no idea who/if anyone will ever read these words I instantly feel a sense of connection and community to a greater tribe of women, mothers, wives, *superheros*.  Just by opening my shiny rose gold macbook and reaching into the world with my story I draw strength + support + commraderie that sustains me throughout my day. My only real, in person interactions of the day might be with my 3 year old (and ships passing in the night with my hubby) but connecting with You as the sun is rising feels just as real and feeds my soul in a different but important way.  A way that helps me be a better human.  

Today I will take it slow.  I went out of the post transfer gates a little hard in the lack of sleep department. 

No cramping or bleeding or weird anything.  

Just the surreal feeling that All The Things that have happened over the past 2 years have led me to right now.  

Today is Sunday.  My mini and I will go to church.  Sienna will get settled in her “little church” and I’ll head to “mamma’s church.” Those 4 walls  wrap their arms around me and bear hug me long and hard enough to last the whole week. The first 10 minutes is christian power music. I feel it in my bones; tears stream down my face.  This baby making season of my life brought me back to my faith. To my relationship with God. And for that I am endlessly grateful. The grit, the hard stuff, the I can’t believe this is happening to me stuff, this is where the juice is. If we can stay with it, it will crack us open and let the light in.   

Days 3 - 7

It’s Friday.  I can’t believe it. I don’t have a long list for you of all the things I’m doing differently or all the pregnancy symptoms I am obsessively scanning for. It’s taken a loooong time, but I’ve just let it go.  I’ve released all the figuring out.  

How liberating it feels to not carry the weight of that enormously impossible task of figuring sh*t out. 

I got the call from school on Tuesday that my daughter had a fever.  I picked her up around 11am and she was toasty and tired so we cuddled up together at home.  We read lots of books, sort of napped and watched a movie.  A dose of Motrin at bedtime for some fever relief and she was down even earlier than her already early (7pm) bedtime.  

But then the night got nuts.  

She woke up with a soaked bed (fever? accident?) around 1am and from there I’m not sure that we really ever went back to bed.  You know the program. Complete overhaul of the bed (Mom, is it morning time? NO!), new pj’s, big gulps of water, cold washcloth on the forehead, temperature taking, more Motrin, back rubs, lullabies.  Prayers.  

When morning(?) arrived I was exhausted. 

We both spent the day in recovery mode.  

This cycle repeated itself for the NEXT. THREE. DAYS. 

And I would think, at 3 in the morning, as these no-sleep-nights strung together and I watched my child (finally) close her eyes peacefully. I am taking care of both my babies right now.  One I hold in my arms, one I hold in my body.  

I am completely tanked physically, mentally and emotionally, but I am Grateful.

On faith alone, I repeated my I’m Pregnant mantra over and over and over again. I said the words out loud, I felt them in my heart and I (tried so hard) to believe them with all my might. I acted as if. 

So here we are, Friday.  On the other side of the 3-day fever.  

Health and Wellness have been restored to Casa Quinn, hallelujah.  

I am never more thankful for the health of myself and my family than when we get temporarily taken down by some unexplained virus.  

The silver lining:  our immune systems are stronger and I’ve been so consumed + sleep deprived that I have not focused on being in the midst of what I am praying will be my final two week wait. 

Getting out of the “me, me, me” mindset has been the best medicine.  

When you want to care for yourself, be of service to others.    

Had my daughter not needed me so intensely this week I would be doing all the no-no things:  

50 body scans a day searching for symptoms of early pregnancy (are my gums  sore? Do my boobs ache? The two signs I always look for, they were my first symptoms with my previous pregnancies).

BFF’ing it with Dr. Google: “early signs of pregnancy post IVF transfer,”  “how to maximize your chances of success post IVF,” “best foods to eat for implantation,” “how to survive the 2WW post IVF transfer,” “first round IVF success rates/stories,” “infertility/ivf blogs”.

Self-imposed torture.  

So here we are.  Friday.

Doctor’s order I can take a pregnancy test on Sunday.  

I get butterflies just thinking about it.  

I have notoriously postponed at-home-pregnancy tests because as long as I don’t know one way or the other, I can be pregnant.  I have had 50+ day cycles and not taken a test and just known, believed I was pregnant. And then I’d get my period.  

Crushing.

I have a test under my sink, waiting.  I haven’t decided if I am going to follow doctor’s orders and take it or not. But it is there. 

I’ll pick up our daughter from school.  We’ll jump in the pool and eat pizza for dinner in our bathing suits (Friday ya’ll).  Maybe I’ll have enough in the tank for a shower + dress + makeup + dinner with hubby.

Or a good book and bed.

And prayers. 

Day 8

It’s my birth month. 

I was born on a Tuesday at 12:18pm. Aries.  

And I share this special day with my dad. It’s his birthday, too.

This time last year, I was in a dark place.  

I was deep in my trying-to-conceive journey, about 2 months post miscarriage and had just had my first mammogram (ever) where they found a mass that required a biopsy (it was clear).

It was actually a breaking point for me.  I found myself screaming into pillows, getting into my car and parking up the street so I could ugly cry without interruption.  My emotions were so raw that I went robotic.  I searched desperately for a therapist that I never saw.  

And here I am on the other side of it all. 

I have perspective and (now) see how life was taking its sharp edges and shaping and molding and transforming me.  I was in the fire. Actually, I was on fire. Then, I thought it was burning me. Now, I know it was turning me into dust so I could be molded into something new + stronger + happier. Different. More. Better than before.   

We are given the chance to Become every day. Every moment, we can make a new choice. We can do differently.  

Today, in this moment, I choose faith + surrender.  

To receive every event in my life as a gift, no matter how it is wrapped. Easier said than done, but I am going to give it my best.

Day 9:  Pregnancy Test Day, 3 march 2019

My very close friend had a big, fancy birthday celebration last night.  

As I was getting ready I got out the pregnancy test and set it on the bathroom counter.  I was getting in the shower and I thought…  

I could just take the test now.

If it’s positive, first I will absolutely freak out. Then, I will float around the party on a magical cloud of bliss and my hubby and I will share stolen glances of knowing at each other throughout the night.  

If it’s negative, well, I would never make it out the door.

I did not take the test. 

The party filled my soul with connection, deep friendship and got me out of me. 

But Now.  

Now I actually can take the test.  

My doctor gave me permission and encouraged me to take the test.  And I am absolutely terrified. 

It’s Sunday. My daughter and I will leave the house around 9am to grab egg bites and a croissant before the 9:45am church service. Should I take the test before we go? After?  Now? Why am I sitting here writing when I could already know.    

Because knowing can go both ways.  

And I am literally trembling with feels at the thought of knowing. 

As if on autopilot, my brain shuts down and my body starts going through the familiar motions of actually taking the test. I’ve had a few years at this by now, so of course I have a ceremony, an at-home-pregnancy-test ritual.  Here I go.

I’m in my bathroom, door closed (not locked). 

I get nervous + shaky + edgy Every Single Time I open the package.   

I pee on the stick. 

Place it on the vanity counter.  

I immediately get in the shower so I can’t sneak a peak early or stare at it for 2 minutes.  

I force wet/soapy/shampooy distance between myself and the stick.  

Between the Before and After. 

Once out and still not looking at the stick, after applying lotions + potions + detangler + wet brushing, wrapped in a dry towel. I close my eyes, pick up the test and place it somewhere. The toilet, the bed, the armchair in our bedroom. Wherever I feel like having my private, ritualist reveal. Today I am next to our bed. 

I get down on my hands and knees, pray, pray, pray. And open my eyes. 

Two Pink Lines. 

No squinty eyes needed to see a faint 2nd line.  

It is there loud & clear. Leaping off the stick.

Pregnant.

I am crying, smiling, shaking. Sitting on the floor, stick clutched between my praying hands.  I sink into this moment nauseous with emotion.

I let it consume me and hold me.  I feel it ALL. I sit this way for 10 minutes.  A lifetime when you have a toddler whose job in life is finding you at all times.  

Still shaking I throw on some clothes and run out to find my husband and daughter.  They are both laying on the playroom floor and I jump on them for a family pile of love. My hubby already knows why and we hug and kiss and I keep crying and my daughter has no idea what is happening but is so excited for the family pile that she is hugging and kissing and laughing.  

It is one of the most perfect moments life has ever given me. 

To follow this mind blowing morning with the gift of going to church and singing + praying + crying + rising, it’s difficult for me to put it into words. Because this, this is all about the feels.  Without my faith during this journey, I know I would be in a very different place than I am right now.

This is the end and the beginning. A death of who I was and a birth of the new me. I know God will never give me more than I can handle. I will trust + believe + surrender. Because as soon as I saw that positive stick and happiness and elation poured over me, so did worry and fear. And there is no place for that here anymore.