Vocabulary Vixen

December 10, 2008

In all my glory…

I have decided that I am going to continue this blogging business. Even if nobody out there reads it. It is not a burning desire to become the fate of many blogs: to be created via a spur of half-drunken, sleepy inspiration, post a few times, and then fade into oblivion. My little flame will always be here, and it will always grow. Why? Because I have things to talk about. I am a natural communicator and artist, and this is my medium. One of them, anyway.

I have recently been through a whirlwind of BS, and I’m making the conscious effort to share this wonder and tragedy with the world. I had wanted to keep it quiet, keep it secret and safe until I knew for sure what was going on and that everything was happy and healthy. What happened?

I’m 26 years old. I’ve got a Bachelor’s degree from a large state university, and because of many factors (the economy, etc), it’s been difficult to find a job in said degree field (graphic design). So I work at a coffee shop. I also run my own business. And, I’m a freelance graphic designer. Between the three, I scrape together enough for the bills every month, and not a whole lot more. It has been my conscious decision since I was was very young that I would follow in my own mother’s footsteps and think about having children at 30 years old or so. She was 30 when she had me, 34 when she had my brother, and I always found that to be just fine, and I’d have no problem whatsoever following in her footsteps.

I’ve been on birth control for years now, because I knew that I’ve had no business even thinking about bringing a child into the world in my financial situation, and my general mental malaise and upset. This has been absolutely fine by me, and I had an agreement with my body: I control the cycle. I control when I menstruate, and I will control when I get pregnant and have kids. That being said, I am also very, incredibly staunchly pro-choice. I have been pro-choice for as long as I can remember, and I am eternally supportive of ANYBODY in the situation of an unplanned, unexpected pregnancy and would like one to view and assess their options completely, without fear of retribution or prejudice. It happens. Before I get a written tirade of how evil and awful I am, be warned that ANY such tirades WILL be deleted without question. I am here as a voice, and I am here for open, honest, caring discussion. I am NOT here for a lecture about my opinions or beliefs and how wrong they are. They’re not. And there are millions who share and support my views.

I’ve been on the pill for years without incident. Last October, I missed a pill. I’d missed pills in the past without incident, and just generally abstained from intercourse until the next cycle. It has not been my desire to get pregnant in the least. Something changed. Something changed within me that is wholly and utterly indescribable. My mood and psyche shifted dramatically for the better in a very, very short period of time. I went from being absolutely flat-out against the idea of having a child, to “This could be wonderful”, in a matter of days. Something shifted in my mind and body, and did so for no apparent reason. I became giddy and glowing, and just an utterly goofy, happy, giddy emotional basket-case. I had a constant case of the giggles, and my mood was set to “Great!”. Then, my boobs grew. Or, stayed grown. Usually before my period they swell, and then once the period starts, they shrink back down. They didn’t go back down. In fact, they continued growing until I’d outgrown my bras, but still had to wear them anyway because I can’t afford new ones. I knew something was up. I took a pregnancy test. Negative. I did it a few days later. Still negative.

I must have blown through 30 tests in a matter of a few weeks. (I found a nice little website that sells them for cheap, really cheap for people “TTC” – Trying To Conceive. Spending $9.00 for two tests is absolutely ridiculous.) It took awhile, but the day before Thanksgiving, I finally got a positive result. It was faint. I had to really look at the strip, but I finally got a positive result. Confirmation. Confirmation on what I’d known all along: I was pregnant. I was pregnant, and actually okay with the idea. I was happy, and couldn’t be happier at the thought. Crazy hormones.

In this time, I’d found that the need for my normal three-drug cocktail of Lexapro, fluoxetine, and methylphenidate was not there. I was able to go off of my meds and still be in a GREAT mood. I did so for a month, and had a giddy sense of existence. It made me happy that I was harboring a special bond between myself and the little one inside. The fact that I’d gain weight? Irrelevant if it meant that the little one could be healthy and safe. As soon as I suspected pregnancy and knew in my heart of hearts that that is what was going on, despite the repeated negative tests, I bought prenatal vitamins and folic acid. I quit drinking caffeine completely. I ate a healthy, balanced diet, and stayed hydrated the best I could. My priorities shifted dramatically in a very short period of time. Unbeknownst to myself, I found myself ready to embark on this adventure. There was nothing scary about it. It just was. And I was going to roll with it.

Thanksgiving was stressful. I had the in-laws over, as well as my parents and brother. I told my mom. She reacted better than I ever imagined she would, and I cannot thank her enough for her support. My CM had dried up the day before, but I didn’t really pay attention to it, as I was busy and had a lot to do! I spotted a tiny, tiny bit on Thanksgiving, but again, paid it no mind. I’d had a “withdrawal bleed” from going off of the pill a few weeks before, and I still had all of the symptoms, so I thought I was still okay. The day after Thanksgiving, I started bleeding a little, but figured that everything should still be okay. It didn’t stop. My mood deflated like a balloon, along with my boobs. I knew right then and there that something was wrong.

I let it bleed, and tried to manage things the best I could. I did pretty well for a good four or five days while the “feel good” hormones were still in my body. I had a very positive attitude that this whole experience has shown me that I’m ready for this adventure in my life, and that this one wasn’t the right one. It did not hit until last Wednesday. It’s absolutely and utterly tragic to lose a baby, whether the pregnancy was expected or not. No longer will I have a wonderful little surprise in nine months to greet me. No longer am I nurturing and growing this amazing, magical, and wonderful thing inside. I am barren and empty. Cold and dark. I’ve cried every day since the miscarriage, and the tragedy of it all is just horrible. I’m back to normal. Same, shitty normal. I’ve done my best to keep my mood stable without drugs. I hope that I can continue (without meds), but I’m making no promises to myself.

Tomorrow, I go to the gynecologist to make sure that everything is okay “down there”, and that it’s okay to try again soon. This whole experience has been amazing. Tragic, but amazing. It has shown me things that I could not even fathom possible for me in my life right now. It’s been quite the experience to show me that now is the time in my life to procreate. I’d originally planned on waiting four more years, but the instinct is kicking in, letting me know that now is indeed the time. Funny, before ALL of this, I’d been wondering about getting my tubes tied and just never dealing with kids period. I guess that this was my body’s way of saying “NOT SO FAST!!!” We live and we learn.

One thing that I do know now is that it’s time. The money is coming together, and it will very quickly here. I’m ready emotionally and mentally now for this. Hopefully, all goes well in the future.

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