This is something I have really struggled with lately, doubting. After trying so long to have Carson and finding out I had an autoimmune disease, I was in denial. I was sick? I wasn't going to get better? I've always been so healthy, and had always tried really hard to take care of myself. The knowledge was magnified by the doctors, "it may be hard to have children, we don't know yet." But you all know the amazing story of Carson, so let me tell you the story of this little one.
I breastfed Carson until he was 18 months. He quit breastfeeding right at the end of May. I was one that breastfeeding was natural birth control, so I didn't have to worry at all about having another baby while Carson was still feeding. After he stopped, I knew that things would go back to normal and I would have to think about birth control, trying for a second, etc. I was nervous, everyone. My Hashimotos was aggravated by Carson's birth and I had started not feeling well. Michael and I decided to put everything in God's hands and I started seeking more treatment for myself and working on getting myself healthy. I figured there was no way I would get pregnant while my thyroid was so out of control.
Fast forward six weeks after I stopped feeding Carson, my first monthly gift since before Carson was born. I knew this was a good sign and was told to start tracking my cycles to try to understand how my thyroid was affecting those. My endocrinologist had strong feelings I had mild PCOS but they needed me to keep track of a couple cycles for length, how I felt, etc and then they would run some tests. Two weeks later, I stopped sleeping. I started sleeping only 4-5 hrs at night, even though I was in bed for 8-9 hrs. So much tossing and turning, bad insomnia. I mentioned this to my doctor, and they didn't think it was my thyroid, must be my hormones trying to get back to normal. Two weeks from there, so four weeks total, I still hadn't had my period, so I started taking pregnancy tests, all negative. We left for a trip to Wisconsin and I thought for sure it would come while I was gone, it had already been too long but I wasn't pregnant. Didn't happen, still not sleeping and feeling pretty terrible.
After we got back, that Monday, it showed up, Hallelujah, now I could have my next cycle and get some testing and they would figure out what was going on! That made my cycle 41 days, super long, but they thought they might shorten the farther I got from breastfeeding. But I still wasn't sleeping, bad insomnia. But my thyroid levels were "normal (slightly, high but in range)" so it was possible they were causing my symptoms, but not likely, and the doctor didn't want to start medicating me because once I start the medication, I cannot stop taking it, ever. I will be on it for life.
Two weeks later, feeling awful! Still not sleeping, and having so many symptoms. I remember crying out to God, asking what I need to do to feel better. I was trying diet changes and keeping out gluten and dairy were the two I noticed helped my symptoms, but there were a couple very challenging healing diets that I gave a try, but they were very hard to keep on. I felt so depressed. I felt so old. Would I ever feel better, would I ever be able to eat normal food again? Would I ever be able to have another baby? Would that baby have similar issues as Carson because my body is sick? So many hard, hard questions. I didn't feel like the same, vibrant, athletic, outdoorsy person I used to be. I realized that girl may not exist anymore and I was going to have to find a new identity in things I could do. I was so exhausted on Monday the 17th of August that while Carson napped,I was watching the last episode of Friends instead of cleaning and cooking like I should have been. That episode was where Chandler and Monica are present for the birth of their adopted babies.
Everyone, I bawled. I wanted to have another baby, I wanted to experience the joy of pregnancy again, even labor because it meant that baby. I remember getting down and praying right there, God, show me the way with this sickness, help me to stop feeling sorry for myself, and please, let Michael and I have another child. You know how sometimes when you pray, you are praying from somewhere deep within, and totally yielding to God. Right there, I knew I had to trust God with my future. I am a control freak and my life was out of control. God was the only one who could take control, because I was doing a really poor job.
All day that Monday, I had been really bloated. I keep thinking back to what other food I had introduced that might have not sat well with me. I had been unable to really tolerate any food lately and it was getting to be a struggle to eat at all since everything made me sick. Maybe TMI here, but sorry, I'm telling the truth. I went to the bathroom and while I was washing my hand, I looked at myself and realized I still looked so fat and bloated! I have always been super slender and had a tiny waist. I don't put weight on there. In my tight tank top, I had a noticeable belly/gut. Then a little thought came into my head "take that pregnancy test." What?! That would be stupid. I had a period two weeks ago, there is literally, no way I could be pregnant. That and the test was a cheap $0.88 Walmart test. I had already spent like $25.00 in tests last month because my period was late, I kept taking a test every other day, and I was buying the early response ones = more expensive. But I couldn't shake that feeling about taking a test.
I figured I was only out $0.88 so I decided to do it. Carson was bothering me the whole time and the Walmart cheapo tests are the ones you have to pee into a cup and then use the little dropper. After I dispensed the drops into their little slot, I watch the test strip. I remember I stopped breathing. The test line lit up like a Christmas light, I mean it was dark. It was darker than the control line! I had taken probably 5 or 6 of these tests in the last 2 months since my cycles are so messed up and I have my health issues. I have to start testing around when my period should come because I need to discover the pregnancy as soon as possible to get certain levels tested because my body could abort the pregnancy due to some things getting out of control. I knew that a positive is a positive. It was after 5pm so I couldn't call my doctor, but I fell on my knees and asked God if it was true. Was I really pregnant already? A total of 15 months trying for Carson and now, in 2.5 months after I stopped breastfeeding, already?
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| I had to take a picture, I was so stunned, and I wanted to show the doctor |
I showed Michael and he was in disbelief as well. I had kind of thought that when we got pregnant again, I would do some cool announcement for him to surprise him. Yeah...that didn't happen. I was a mess and crying and just needed some support.
The very next morning I called my doctor and got in for an ultrasound and blood work. Based on my last period, I would have been 8-9 weeks along. The ultrasound showed virtually nothing, just a little yolk sac. The doctors didn't say much, but they took blood and told me to come back in a week. I could feel the mood in the room though, they didn't think it was going to make it. Based on everything, it would mean I would have had to ovulate at the end of my cycle and the fact it implanted was a miracle, the lining was so old. Plus, the age difference in what they thought they should see, they were thinking it was just blighted ovum, like I had before when I miscarried before Carson.
I was a nervous wreck. So stressed out. It got worse when my blood results came back. My levels weren't quite doubling like they needed to be and my TSH was too high and my T3 too low (thyroid hormones). Not good. My endocrinologist started me on medication to bring my TSH down. If it went too high, it would abort the pregnancy. That week was literally hell. I started feeling sick though, which I knew was a good sign, but that compounded the worry and the stress exponentially. When I went back for another ultrasound a week later. The tech saw a fetal pole with a little heartbeat! The called me 6 weeks pregnant and gave me a due date of April 18, 2016. The doctor then said, "well, things didn't look good at all last week, but they look better this week, we'll see you at 10 weeks for your new OB and 12 weeks for your ultrasound, see ya later!" They basically said, we'll wait and see again, but with a little more hope. And now here I am, in my second trimester with a miracle baby, literally. Scientifically , there is not a real reason why this baby survived.
I believe God meant for this baby to be here. I can't believe I get to have another baby. I pray that I learn to be the Godly women and mother God desires me to be and that I can get out of my own head and my own pity party. I will always be able to look at my babies and know they are my Ebenezer Stones. My reminder that God has helped me. Our Lord is so amazing and this has been such a learning experience. I have prayed and prayed for God to heal my broken body, but he has said no to that prayer, but he did answer my prayer for a child, well, two children. He is in control and knows what is best. It is then up to me to live in the way I should, despite what I am feeling or going through. God really is good, all the time, and he still does miracles.
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