Those who know me best know that my husband and I have been trying to conceive (TTC, for those who've been through it) for almost 4 years. We've tried Clomid (the pill) and Profasi (the shot in me bum), we've taken temperatures and turned sex into a chore, we've weathered on confirmed miscarriage and one unconfirmed.
After four years, we've finally gotten comfortable with having an only child. We'd effectively given up on having another baby. In fact, I'd convinced myself that I really didn't want one, it was just my biological clock ticking. Further, I was sabotaging any conception efforts by NOT losing the weight I was sure I needed to in order to conceive.
Four years of feeling your heart sink when you start your period. Four years of shaking your head at your husband's questioning look. Four years of monthly denial of your God-given duty. Can you wrap your mind around that?
After four years, when the pregnancy test came back positive yesterday, you could have knocked me over with a feather. I'm still numb to it. I'm not sure I know what to think right now.
All I can do is thank God mightily for His blessing, and ask that He protect the life inside me. Because, I think if I miscarry again, I'll go straight off the deep end.
This blog has evolved so many ways and has incorporated so many parts of my life. I'm not sharing this news with the general public, but I felt I couldn't lie to everyone here.
So, there it is. We're expecting!