When Michael and I talked about having kids we wanted our kids to be 3 years apart. He and his brother are 2 years apart and my sister and I are 4 years apart, so 3 seemed like a good in-between. So we decided we could start trying anytime after Dylan turned 2. Dylan's birthday is in March, and I had the best maternity leave. I had him right before spring break and then took the rest of the year off, and had summer break to boot. I wanted to aim for another leave similar to his, and since his conception was so simple for us I thought it would be no problem getting what I wanted. I decided we should start trying as soon as school was out.
June came and went and the whole time I joked about it happening right away. I wanted to be really positive and upbeat about the whole thing. The week before 4th of July I felt "odd" and took a pregnancy test. It was negative. I was fine with that and really enjoyed partying with my friends over 4th of July weekend. Monday came and my not-so-friendly visitor didn't show up. This visitor is always showing up like clockwork, so I took a test. I go the faintest second line ever, but everything I read said a positive is a positive. I started getting excited. The next day I took another test to see if it darkened, and it hadn't. The next day (or the day after that) I took another test and this one was negative. I felt like this was so weird, but the next day my visitor showed up. After some research I realized this was something called a chemical pregnancy. I was bummed, but not devastated. I decided we would just keep trying.
Towards the end of July I started having some interesting symptoms. One night I had to have garlic fries, I couldn't stop thinking about them and drove to Red Robin just to get some fries to go. The next night I was at a party and I couldn't stop eating. And I was already visiting the bathroom frequently. I had a hunch that something was up, so I took a test that Monday. 2 lines! I didn't want to get my hopes up, so I took a test almost everyday and got the same results. I was still almost a week away from even expecting my visitor again. That day came and passed and I still got the same results. I started to let my guard down and mentally planned our future.
One week later and I started having weird feelings in my stomach. I got nervous and bought a test from the Dollar Tree (I had already spent a lot on pregnancy tests). That night I took it and it was negative. I immediately did research to look at reviews. I got mixed results, so I wasn't sure if the test was right or wrong. I had so much trouble sleeping that night and the next day I felt terrible. My stomach was hurting even worse so I decided to take the day off. I couldn't find my information to call in for a sub (not happy with our new sub calling system at that time) and had to go in to school to find it. By the time I called it was too late for a full day, so I was going to take a half day. Shortly after school started my principal let me know we wouldn't be getting a sub and they would have to split my class, but I could go right away. I felt guilty pawning my kids off, but I physically and emotionally wasn't up to staying.
On my way home I stopped for another test (a brand name one this time) and it showed positive. My nerves were somewhat calmer, but I was still uncomfortable. I laid down to sleep for awhile and was feeling much better. *GRAPHIC ALERT* Then I went to the bathroom and realized I was bleeding...really bleeding. I called the doctor on call because it was Friday afternoon and the office was closed. He said there was nothing they could do at this point. I knew what was happening, and the control I like to have over situations was impossible to gain. I was miserable that weekend, but I went on with things. I have a family and they needed me to continue moving forward, even if I would have preferred staying in bed with the covers over my head. Besides, being around people felt good. Monday I called into school so I could see a doctor, and I emotionally didn't feel stable teaching without crying. I cried through my entire appointment (and almost cried in the waiting room). The doctor was patient and kind and comforting, but it didn't make me feel any better. Everything she said was logical and made sense, but I didn't want to make sense of it.I went back to school the next day. Though my day began rough I began feeling better. Teaching doesn't give you much time to ponder personal thoughts, so that's a plus.
Here I am, a week later and I feel much better. I still have random moments of sadness, but that's how grief works. I am trying to be positive and think that what will be is out of my hands. I have had the most supportive friends and family. This is what helped me to heal. I have never been good at giving words to people in times of sorrow, but I think I now understand it's not what you say that is important, it's just the fact that someone is reaching out saying "I love you and you will get through this". Hopefully, in time, I will take a positive test that will work out. Until then I am going to keep loving my friends and family and be grateful that I have a wonderful life right now.
