If you have been following my previous posts, I am continuing with a description of how J.O., my son, came into my life. Read my previous posts to review the story from the beginning.
We had one month to wait. Then the doctor was going to do an ultra sound to see how the embryos are doing. Waiting, waiting and more waiting.
So now all we had to do was wait. A whole month. Just wait. I know I had four embryos inside. I prayed that one survived. I will be honest I prayed that more than one survived. This was my last chance. I thought I could handle multiples. One would be nice. Two would be great. Three was causing a little anxiety, but others do it. Why couldn’t I? Now four sounded frightening, but that was a risk I had to take.
I had so many thoughts and emotions during this time. First of all I just couldn’t believe the fact that I was actually pregnant. I was so excited. Just like the saying, I wanted to shout the news from the roof tops. But then I was very cautious. I didn’t want to get too happy because what if the embryos didn’t make it. It is like you want to be happy and celebrate, but then you hold back that feeling because you don’t want to hex it or have the feeling of disappointment. During this whole process there were only a few people who knew about the IVF process or that I was pregnant. My parents. My sister and her family. Two of my husband’s brothers. Everyone was holding their breath. Waiting.
Thirty days are a long time and seemed like forever. I was feeling fine and didn’t have any symptoms of being pregnant. No morning sickness. One day after about three weeks I was working at my husband’s company. I had been rearranging some inventory when I felt a pain in my lower stomach. I immediately started to panic. Did I move in the wrong way and it was just a muscle ache? No it felt more like a cramp. Something was happening and I suspect I was losing the babies. I started to panic and to cry. This was our only chance. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I wanted a baby so bad. One baby or multiple babies, I had envisioned what our life would be like. The topic of losing all of the babies was not talked about, not even with my husband.
But now none of this was coming true. Not multiple babies. Not one baby. When the cramping started I laid down on a box. My husband found me there. I told him what was happening. He said the inventory was not important and he said shouldn’t have been doing it in the first place. Why do men respond in anger in moments like this? He took me home so that I could rest. At first I didn’t want to move. I was afraid if I stood up it would make the situation worse. Like gravity had something to do with it, which was a silly thought. Shortly soon after, the cramping stopped. I had mixed feelings about this because did this mean it’s over. The babies are gone. Or did it mean I was ok and the babies are ok.
So I went home and basically stayed in bed for the last week. Laying in bed made it even worse. All I really could do is think. Worrying about the babies and waiting. And more waiting.