7 plus 13.1

A little warning for my male readership. The following paragraphs deal with 'female' issues. So, read at your own discretion.

7 = the number of pregnancy tests I took since April 2...Sounds like a lot, doesn't it? Don't worry, I don't need any biology lessons. I do think it's rather descriptive though of what the last month was like. A little OCD? Yeah. Maybe. Apparently my body has just barely recovered from the D and C, since I just barely started a period that I could recognize, for sure, as such. Up till two days ago, it was all more guessing, with lots of random little bleeding here and there. Which is why I kept testing, wondering if I my hcg levels had really gone down, or if maybe this was the 'pregnancy spotting' I've read about, or if the sudden dizzy spells that lasted a few days were maybe a pregnancy sign, or just to see if maybemaybemaybe I'm simply pregnant. Well, no such luck. I had planned to take another test yesterday morning, just to be sure. But honestly, the amounts of blood this time around were not leaving any room for questions. So there. I'm sure you wanted to read about all my current fertility issues. All I've got to say is, 3 months have passed, and I'm not pregnant again. And it's really hard on me.

Supposedly your period starts up 4-6 weeks after your surgery - 3 months for me. And supposedly you get pregnant faster after a miscarriage. I've heard of plenty of people who got pregnant again after a miscarriage within 3 months. Not me, either. I guess 3 months really isn't that long of a wait. But, it hasn't taken that long with Sophia or with Baby. I am getting nervous. I feel my biological clock is ticking mercilessly, and there's no time for lengthy set-backs. We wanted a bunch of kids, and we wanted them before I'm 38. Ooops, that leaves me with only about 5 years to get out those 3-4 kids we wanted. And so I realize that sometimes life doesn't go as planned, and that I may just have to readjust, and deal with things as they come. It shouldn't be a big deal, because clearly there are things far worse in life. All that I know. And yet, I want to be pregnant so badly, and it's just so hard to see 'everyone' pregnant. Today in Relief Society, the 3 ladies to my right were all pregnant. One girl behind me was pregnant, and two were holding their babies. Of the 2 ladies to my left, one had a little baby, and one had her 4th baby the same time I had Sophia (so maybe they're done). Then there were a few more women scattered in the room who were pregnant, and in front of me was my Relief Society president cuddling with her newborn. At that moment I just wanted to cry, because I want a little baby so bad. I want Sophia to have a little sister. I want to hold a little newborn, smelling their sweet baby scent, feeling their soft hair and skin on my cheek, seeing their little yawns and stretches, and sleepy smiles, having their tiny hands wrap around my finger.





One of my friends just had her baby, and she posted her birth story. I was worried that all the stuff I just wrote about would come up and make me cry all over again if I read it. It was a little hard, but when I saw the picture of her having her little baby, and what she wrote, I saw Sophia's birth before my eyes. I was so happy to remembering that day. What moment in life is more magical and special than when you greet a new little human in the world, a little person who was the result of the deep love and trust a husband and wife share? Missing our baby is sad. Waiting and wondering about when/if another baby will join us is hard. But remembering how Sophia joined us, is pure joy. Seeing Sophia every day, smiling, singing, dancing, drawing, talking, exploring - bliss.

13.1 -the distance of my second half-marathon I ran yesterday. I had kind of planned to run this marathon, but thought initially that I'd be pregnant and the plan was to see if I can get/be fit enough to do this pregnant. Then Henry got put on remediation, we had the miscarriage, health worries, trip to Germany, more worries/depression/chocolate eating etc. I definitely haven't worked out much this year. And I have gained 7 lbs since February. I wasn't really ready to run this half-marathon. My bladder was full from the get-go, and I had to go No. 2 for the whole run as well. I was also on my period. And I wasn't in shape. It also happened to rain, and I was running this one by myself. I think at mile 9 I just wanted to quit, and at mile 10 I had some weird breathing issues. But then I thought of our baby, and decided I'd run for her. I'd keep going because I can't quit on...well, on me, on our hopes, on happiness, on life, on having faith. At that moment I felt like if I can just hang in running, I can hang in with everything else. It really wasn't easy to finish (especially not the last 2 miles that were hills), but I'm glad to report that I hung in there. And I even ran this race faster than the last one, by about 9 minutes.

I have to think of Paul's words (2 Tim. 4:7):" I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith." Yesterday I did just that. And I hope one day I can look at my life and say those same words. So, here's to fighting, and finishing, and keeping the faith.