We wished upon a star...

So, here I am. Writing a blog post I never thought I would write. That's right, world. I'm pregnant.

This has been a pretty eventful past few months. As I write this post, I'm at 14 weeks. Yep! Second trimester! But the road to get here has been a pretty bumpy one. Let's go back to the beginning.

Back in May/June, I was meeting with an Orthopedist to discuss finally having a much needed knee surgery. There was talk that perhaps all of the pain I was having was NOT in fact RSD, but perhaps something directly related to my insanely tilted knee caps. After MRIs, X-Rays and multiple appointments, I decided to stop all medication so that I could prepare myself for surgery. Of course, with my luck, they ended up confirming my RSD diagnosis (which means NO surgery, even if it would help since no doctor wants to cut someone open in the affected area knowing the pain is only going to get worse.) I handled the news like an adult (I cried) and remembered that I was no worse off than I had been only a few months before, and that RSD wouldn't kill me.

And then, in that amazing time period when I was freaking out about surgery, RSD, no medication, and the emotional stress of it all...I got pregnant.

This is pretty damn impressive people. I'm about to lay some knowledge on you. Since I was in middle school and battled bulimia, I do not have periods without medication. It's not great, but it's my normal. I've been on meds for YEARS just to try to get some kind of cycle. If I go off them for one month, everything goes bonkers and it takes me months to get back on schedule. And I got pregnant. With no medication. With no planning. How on Earth could this possibly happen?!

Well, of course it took a little longer for me to actually find out. At the end of June, hubby and I went over to the house of some of our good friends for a Star Wars marathon. There were 6 of us there. Eating dinner, watching epic movies, laughing our butts off, and generally loving spending time together. But something was amiss. My tatas were KILLING me. It was like they were on fire. I casually notified my husband of the pain (I totally texted him as he sat right next to me) and we both laughed. Can RSD make your boobies hurt? Who knows. But we certainly thought it was funny.

During the weekend of July 4th, the hubs and I did lots of stuff around the house. Planted new shrubs, tended to our yard and cleaned the house. I was feeling weird, but I couldn't put my finger on it. For grins and giggles, I took a pregnancy test. It was about 2pm, so I wasn't expecting to see anything. Next to that bright pink control line was a faint, barely there pink line. There was no way. I brought the test to hubs who was just as confounded. We decided it was definitely an evaporation line (we didn't even know what that meant, by the way) and didn't really think about it again. Until the next morning, when I took another one. That damn faint line was still there, messing with my eyes. Was it really there? Was I making this worse on myself by seeing what I wanted to see? We figured out the only way we would be able to figure this out was with a digital test. By this time, we were convinced there was some kind of defect in this type of test. I took the first digital test around 3pm (I couldn't wait) and there it was. Pregnant. WTF. I took the test to the garage where hubby was working on his car. Here's how the conversation went:

Me: (tossing the test to him) "Yo! I need you to read this."
Hubby: Okay. (Reads the test) Are you sure you did this correctly?
Me: I'm pretty sure. (Long pause where we stare blankly at one another) Holy crap.
Hubby: Holy crap.
Both: (Excitedly) HOLY CRAP.

And that's the magical story of how I told my hubby. I'll be honest with you, I'm TERRIBLE at breaking news. This was all happening so far off of this crazy path I had imagined in my head on the off-hand chance that someday this would happen for us. I would take the test, cry the greatest happy tears of my life, cook my husband a wonderful meal and come up with some adorably perfect way to tell him he was a dad. I would do all of this dressed as a 1950'S housewife, of course.

But this was nothing how I planned. I was happy, but so so so SO scared. It had been almost exactly a year since our pregnancy loss. Apparently that was far more traumatic than even I had been willing to admit before. I was terrified.

Time went on, we told family, we visited the doctor who finally confirmed everything. We crossed hurdle after hurdle. All the while, I was so hesitant to even say the words "I'm pregnant." I was convinced something terrible would happen just like last time, and thusly could not enjoy the amazing experience I was having.

The day came when we got to hear the heartbeat for the first time. I was so nervous I was shaking. Hubby was insane. He couldn't keep still. Suddenly on the screen, there was a tiny jellybean with this itty bitty flashing spot near the middle. Hubby was so excited that he could see it. Then we heard it. Like tiny horse hooves. I couldn't cry. Hubby was running around the room like a man possessed. I was laughing hysterically at him. It was so damn cute!

Everything progressed normally  for quite some time after that. I began to get larger. I started sporting a little bump, which rapidly grew into a not-so-little bump. It was getting much harder to hide the fact that I am pregnant, which honestly wasn't as terrible as I thought it would be.

Then, on the morning of September 3rd, everything changed. I woke up, kissed hubby goodbye and rolled back over to get some more sleep before my alarm went off. He called on his way into work (it's a thing we do every morning) and I decided it was time to roll out of bed and start my day. As I stood up I had a very intense feeling of dizziness. I had to catch myself. I walked to the restroom and looked down. I was COVERED in blood. When I say covered, I am not exaggerating for effect. It was all over me, the floor, everywhere. I couldn't get it to stop. It was like I was hemorrhaging. I couldn't do anything. And as quickly as the horror set in, so did the tears. I was absolutely hysterical. I wasn't even thinking correctly anymore. All I could think of was "Call the husband." I called and can't even remember what I murmured to him on the phone. I remember him having to ask me to calm down because he couldn't understand a word I was saying. As soon as I was able to effectively communicate, it took only seconds for him to say "I'm on my way. If you need to call an ambulance, do it." We hung up and I called my OB. It took forever to get someone (my doctor was in the OR that morning). When I finally got someone on the phone, I explained what was happening. They told me to get to the ER right away. Hubby was home before I could collect my thoughts and we rushed to the ER. We called my mom along the way who met us there.

At that point, I think everyone, including my doctors, were convinced that I had lost the baby. I was. I was convinced. There was so possible way that I could bleed that much and still have a baby. It simply wasn't possible.

The doctors came in with the ultrasound machine and held my hand as the nurses prepared me. He explained that he was obligated to perform the ultrasound and that he had to let me know what he finds, regardless of the outcome. He told me to prepare for the worst. They fired it up and a miracle happened. There was baby. Moving around like crazy with a perfect heartbeat. Every single person in that room was flabbergasted. Everyone. There were tears, concern, elation...all at once.

I spent 7 hours in the hospital. They ended up sending me home and told me to follow up with my OB immediately. They were able to get me in the next day, so hubby took me and we had a chance to finally ask what the heck was going on. They diagnosed it as a "Threatened Miscarriage" and put me on bed rest until the bleeding could stop. Nothing "caused" it. It was just happening.

I sat on bed rest for a week. I was miserable. I was trapped. I talked to the pugs all the day and got upset because they wouldn't talk back.

Finally, I was cleared to go back to work if I took it easy. I just finished my first week back, and couldn't be happier to be back at my job and around my co-workers. I was just enjoying having life back to normal.

During that time, I learned a lot. I learned that as much as I tried to deny it, there was this underlying maternal thing going on with me the entire time. I was so overjoyed that our baby was completely unaffected by this incredibly traumatic episode, and it made me love this kid even more than I thought possible. Now, I embrace the belly, occasionally talk to the little one inside of it, and dream of seeing that little face.

I'm still struggling with the added attention my bump is getting me both with loved ones and strangers alike. I don't really talk about it all that much outside my closest circles. The thought of being the center of attention at a shower is still super scary to me. But if I've learned anything through this episode, it's been that I can get through anything with hubby at my side. We're blessed to have some amazing family members who already love baby so much, and we're so grateful.

So there you have it! That's the very abridged version of our path to where we are. So, right now I will close this, knowing it wont be posted until we're relaxing on our Disney vacation. I'm finally at the point in my life where I can honestly say, I'm gonna be a mom. I know I am. This kick ass little one currently inhabiting my uterus is already the center of my world, and I couldn't be happier.