Be Joyous
I FINALLY GOT MY PERIOD!!!!!
I know, its probably WAAAAYYYY too much information for such fragile readers, but hey. My blog is getting the absolute bare minimum of interaction, if any, so I'm just going to use this thing as my own journal for a bit. Because if it offends you, well, it wasn't for you to begin with.
Anyways. It's been almost three months since I had my birth control removed, and I've been anxious to start this journey with my husband. Yeah, you know the journey I'm talking about here.
And of course it had to start during Pride month, amiright??
I seriously couldn't be more excited!! Especially since the excitement helps me ignore the one day a month that is bound to be REALLY bad, hormonally speaking, for the next few months until my body is back in it's natural rhythm.
Seriously, though, after so many surprises, unexpected results, heartaches, and the fucking LOSS that has accompanied me in the last 11 years, I can't wait to take the journey, unabashedly, completely, and knowingly, with my husband.
Will it be hard? Oh yeah. Our last pregnancy was super rough. Unexpected, for sure, for both of us, and then the miscarriage was just one more nail in a really shitty coffin of that period. Seriously. I lost my brother, then two days later got that shitty news about no heartbeat, then had to wait another three weeks before my body decided to pass the boys.
Yeah, that's right. BOYS. Plural. Genetic testing can be a bitch sometimes, can't it?
After that appointment, Sean and I went for a walk. He was worried, understandably, because it was our second miscarriage, and the first one had absolutely torn me apart in more ways than one. Add into this whole mix the nightmare that my family was already going through, and I don't blame him for being worried. But for the first time in this kind of situation, I felt peace.
This was not my first rodeo. Not by a long shot. In 2011, on Christmas Eve, I was raped, and that rape resulted in an ectopic pregnancy, which was taken care of five days before my 22nd birthday. No one knew about this until it came out with my depression, about three months later, and because of the guilt that I carried a lot of my family questioned whether it wasn't just an abortion that I hid by claiming it was ectopic.
In 2014, I had my IUD removed because it had begun to migrate and I was afraid of it perforating my uterus and causing infertility. Six months after it's removal, I was at the beginning of an abusive relationship. We didn't use protection, but in a year and a half I never once had a pregnancy scare. Turned out that was because I had scarring on both of my fallopian tubes, putting my chances at a natural conception at less than 5%.
Then my husband came into the picture. A couple months after we started officially dating, and it was the day I was supposed to start my period (based on one of those little apps, ya know). Well, I was never really THAT consistent, but usually it would start within a day or two of the estimation I would get from those apps. But that morning felt different. Calm. I hadn't been as hormonal leading up to it as I normally would be, and even that wasn't that much.
Still, I got a pregnancy test and figured "Why not?"
Within a minute, the two pink lines popped up.
I was pretty shocked. So I took another Dollar Store pregnancy test. Same response. And then there was the more expensive Clear pregnancy test. Another positive.
That combination of shock and joy was something I will never forget.
I know, its probably WAAAAYYYY too much information for such fragile readers, but hey. My blog is getting the absolute bare minimum of interaction, if any, so I'm just going to use this thing as my own journal for a bit. Because if it offends you, well, it wasn't for you to begin with.
Anyways. It's been almost three months since I had my birth control removed, and I've been anxious to start this journey with my husband. Yeah, you know the journey I'm talking about here.
I seriously couldn't be more excited!! Especially since the excitement helps me ignore the one day a month that is bound to be REALLY bad, hormonally speaking, for the next few months until my body is back in it's natural rhythm.
Seriously, though, after so many surprises, unexpected results, heartaches, and the fucking LOSS that has accompanied me in the last 11 years, I can't wait to take the journey, unabashedly, completely, and knowingly, with my husband.
Will it be hard? Oh yeah. Our last pregnancy was super rough. Unexpected, for sure, for both of us, and then the miscarriage was just one more nail in a really shitty coffin of that period. Seriously. I lost my brother, then two days later got that shitty news about no heartbeat, then had to wait another three weeks before my body decided to pass the boys.
Yeah, that's right. BOYS. Plural. Genetic testing can be a bitch sometimes, can't it?
After that appointment, Sean and I went for a walk. He was worried, understandably, because it was our second miscarriage, and the first one had absolutely torn me apart in more ways than one. Add into this whole mix the nightmare that my family was already going through, and I don't blame him for being worried. But for the first time in this kind of situation, I felt peace.
This was not my first rodeo. Not by a long shot. In 2011, on Christmas Eve, I was raped, and that rape resulted in an ectopic pregnancy, which was taken care of five days before my 22nd birthday. No one knew about this until it came out with my depression, about three months later, and because of the guilt that I carried a lot of my family questioned whether it wasn't just an abortion that I hid by claiming it was ectopic.
In 2014, I had my IUD removed because it had begun to migrate and I was afraid of it perforating my uterus and causing infertility. Six months after it's removal, I was at the beginning of an abusive relationship. We didn't use protection, but in a year and a half I never once had a pregnancy scare. Turned out that was because I had scarring on both of my fallopian tubes, putting my chances at a natural conception at less than 5%.
Then my husband came into the picture. A couple months after we started officially dating, and it was the day I was supposed to start my period (based on one of those little apps, ya know). Well, I was never really THAT consistent, but usually it would start within a day or two of the estimation I would get from those apps. But that morning felt different. Calm. I hadn't been as hormonal leading up to it as I normally would be, and even that wasn't that much.
Still, I got a pregnancy test and figured "Why not?"
Within a minute, the two pink lines popped up.
I was pretty shocked. So I took another Dollar Store pregnancy test. Same response. And then there was the more expensive Clear pregnancy test. Another positive.
That combination of shock and joy was something I will never forget.
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