Being A Woman is A Messy Business

So, I had a miscarriage last year. I don’t really talk about it with anyone. Which is difficult because there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about it. As much as I love talking about myself (#selfawareness), I don’t want to bombard people with how sad I feel sometimes. I don’t even talk to Chris about everything I think in one day. It’s no one’s problem but my own. Some days are better than others. But some days I cry even if I seem fine, and some days I’m more optimistic that we’ll one day be blessed with our own sweet little baby.

So, I’m here to vent about what I’ve been struggling with this last year and a half. My long, heavy periods, then nonexistent periods, then a surprise pregnancy, followed by a surprise miscarriage, followed up with deep depression, a PCOS diagnosis, weight gain, nine months of infertility issues, monthly trips to my OB for Clomid, strips upon strips of ovulation tests, and let’s not forget: LOTS of “we’re having sex tonight, I don’t want to miss my window.” Note: Do NOT feel bad for Chris. He’s never had this much consistent sex in his life.

So, here’s my story. Few people know all the details. Some of you may judge me. Some of you may think it’s “TMI.”  Some of you may find comfort in my honesty. But ultimately, this is my truth and its therapeutic for me to share it.  You’re more than welcome to hit the “x” in the top right corner of your screen. But, I do promise a few laughs along the way.

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On December 11, 2016 after no period for 63 days, I got my period. I remember this exact date because it was the day of my bridal shower. I got my period that day, and I had it for the next 65 days. And this wasn’t just any period. It was heavy; it was laborious; it was painful. I had it though Christmas. I had it through New Years. I had it right on up through my wedding day – February 3rd, 2017. Ten minutes before I was set to walk down the aisle I could feel a little stream beginning to run down my leg. My mother, sister, and I tracked down a server and asked her to contact our wedding coordinator for a tampon. Silly me, I should have known to stuff one down my corset! We then huddled in the handicap stall while my mom and sister threw my beautiful, white, princess dress over my head like a graceful lily in bloom and I somehow managed to avoid my own rendition of the Red Wedding.

I had my period all throughout our honeymoon in NYC where, much to my dismay, there are NO public restrooms. At one point on a cold, raining day, I stood in the back of a CVS with tears streaming down my face exhausted from the constant flow.  I’d gone through my fifth tampon by noon, cramping and in pain. I knew nothing could be done from New York but I called my OB in Florida to beg for an appointment the day I was to return home. This had to stop.

The day we got back we went up to Jacksonville for my OB appointment. She prescribed some progesterone and sent me on my way. Within days it was finally gone.

That month I started birth control. My doctor said this was the easiest way for me to regulate my periods, and so I went on the pill.  We’d just gotten married so I wasn’t necessarily thinking about getting pregnant. However, the internet exists. And I am prone to go down long rambling rabbit holes that lead to a hypochondriacs worse nightmare.  After reading up on irregular periods, I got it in my head that it would be difficult for me to get pregnant. After all, before my long 65 day period, my periods were approximately every 60 days and when I would get one, they were very light.

Years before, when I’d notice the long cycles and addressed this issue with my OB she said “well you’re probably not ovulating.” I can still remember her saying it while leaning up against the cabinets in the small exam room. Her arms crossed over her white lab coat and her french tipped pedicured toes sticking out from her flip flops and peaking below the hem of her wide leg linen pants. I remember hearing that statement and thinking why is she dressed like she’s going to the beach. I was not thinking well that’s a problem. I wasn’t concerned with her statement. She didn’t seem concerned, why should I? But now, the internet says it’s an issue so is IS an issue. I’m 31, overweight, and it doesn’t look good from here on out…I was driving myself crazy thinking we need to start figuring this out, and trying to get pregnant! STAT!

On June 1st, 2017, after 4 months, I stopped taking the pill and I bought a pack of ovulation strips via Amazon. Eighteen days later, Chris and I had an impromptu practice session. On day 19, I took my first ovulation test.  I texted a picture of the results to my bestie who was suffering from a severe bout of baby fever and versed in the art of positive ovulation lines. She confirmed that it was, in fact, a positive test. She then informed me that the day before you get the positive test is the best day to “practice” when hoping for a positive pregnancy test. My first thought: FUCK!

A little backstory: Chris and I have talked about children. We both want them. I want three; he wants two. So, we’ll have three. When I said I wanted to go off birth control, we got in a mini fight about it. My stance was “I think it will be hard for me to get pregnant because I have horrible periods and I don’t think I’m ovulating. You have to ovulate to get pregnant. I’m probably NOT going to get pregnant, but we have to try!” His stance was, “You’ll so full of it. Watch, you’ll get pregnant on the first try.”

So, three weeks later on a Sunday afternoon, Chris and I get home from a long day date. We’re watching a movie on the couch and I get up to use the bathroom. The ovulation strips I bought come with a few pregnancy tests. I take one. Put it on the counter. Forget about it for about two hours. I go back into the bathroom for something. See the strip and think Oh yeah… I forgot about that. Look closely, and there are two dark pink lines. My heart stops. My first thought: FUCK! Text photo of strip to baby-fever-bestie she said “Um, you’re pregnant.” My first words: “FUUUCK.”

My next post: The Pregnancy 

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One Response to Being A Woman is A Messy Business

  1. Pingback: It Will Be Us | pryorities

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