Forgive me for going down memory lane...
Every year when it's getting close to my birthday, I remember so vividly five years ago at this time. It's heavy, it's on my heart, it's happy, it's emotional.
Only close friends, family (and friends that have now asked) know that we struggled for about 6 years with infertility. Fast forward to today and we now have three beautiful 4 1/2 year old boys. I am VERY blessed.
August 2005. 2nd round of IVF. I have never been pregnant. We drive 3 hours back to our first home in Springfield, MO. We don't know what to think.
Labor Day, 2005. We find out we are pregnant for the FIRST TIME EVER. We are so excited. I had never had a positive pregnancy test in my life. The next day I went my local OB for blood tests, and to wait another day to see if my beta count starts to go up.
It did! Excitement. Nervousness.
September 22, 2005. My birthday. I am now 26 years old, the same age my mother was when she had her first child. Dan purchased me my first maternity outfit and a body pillow. He did not buy it on sale, because he knew I would not buy it for myself. I loved it.
We head to Springfield Brewing Company for my birthday dinner. We sat and ate. I love their fried pickles :) We talked about the future, what it will be like on Monday, in 4 days, when we are supposed to go back to our KC doctor for the first ultrasound. Will we see a heartbeat? It's still early. Since we are heading to a movie, I stop at the restroom before we leave.
My heart stops. I'm spotting. My stomach sinks. Of COURSE this would happen - I mean it was too good to be true. Right? I rush out and make Dan take me to the hospital. He doesn't understand why, since there isn't anything they can do. I still want to go.
As we are driving back up National towards St. Johns Hospital, I remember seeing a park full of people dressed in medieval garb and sword fighting. I later wondered if I really did see it. A few months after that, I found out that I did not dream it up. In fact, there is a medieval group in Springfield.
In the ER, I waited. And waited. They called me in and checked me out. No more blood and my cervix is closed. Either I had already miscarried or I was spotting old blood. I was released on orders to see my OB in the morning for an ultrasound.
I got home and there was a present out front for me from my good friend, Julie. It was a baby blanket and rattle, with a card saying it is for "he, she, or them". I cried and called her. I told her she needs to take it back, and she prayed with me and said that I need to keep it.
The next morning was solemn. We went in for the ultrasound. The tech must not have known why we were there because she just blurts out "there is Baby A's heartbeat, Baby B's heartbeat, and Baby C's heartbeat. Looks good. Go back out in the waiting room and wait to see the Dr."
Umm. WHAT? Lord, we prayed for A heartbeat. WHAT DID SHE SAY?
Excitement. Relief. Overwhelmed. Happy. Disbelief. Overjoyed. Tired. Confused. Crying. Smiling.
6 months after that....
Baby B - Dalton at 2 days old
Baby A - Easton at 16 days old
Baby C - Quinton at 16 days old
I share this with a heavy and happy heart. I think it's because of the infertility struggle. Any happy milestones come with reminders of the sadness and heartache you had before you got to the happy times. I think others that have walked through this road would agree. I hesitated to post this, because someone might think I am being pessimistic or ungrateful.
If you know me, you know I love my kids and am very happy with them! I just lived the infertility for so long, that it is apart of who I am. My heart hurts for others that are going through the same thing. I actually never talked about it while going through it. I never talked about it afterwards. I never wanted to be public about it. However, my situation of having triplets has MADE me talk about it. Now I realize that God has allowed me to become more comfortable talking about it. If I can share how painful it was, maybe it might help someone else realize they are not alone?
I'm sorry if this story is choppy, or not well written. It's a hard subject for me to discuss and I'm just writing it out as it's in my heart.