Sunday, January 8, 2017
Wait! WHAT? That's right. I'm late. WAIT!! WHAT??!! How late? Ummm... a week. Now the fact that my bra is too tight and I gained three pounds last week for some bizarre unknown reason is making horrible sense.
I woke up one Sunday AM with that tell tale nausea that fits only one condition. I mentally spiraled very quickly. A test. That will help me see the truth. I have an IUD. THEY ARE 99.3% EFFECTIVE! Not to mention, I'm 41 yrs old and have five children. Maybe, you didn't get that part. I'M FOURTY ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't want any more children. I'm totally satisfied with the number of babes I have birthed and I love them, they are all healthy and thriving. I am running again... a LOT! I'm signed up for a 100K in July for crying out loud. THIS. CAN. NOT. BE. HAPPENING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I called my doctor immediately and was greeted with her concerned tone. I stopped by the next morning for a blood draw to check hormone levels. I was to come in the following day for an ultrasound and doc apt. My doctor called me personally before my visit to tell me my hormone levels were very high and she fully expected to see a pregnancy on ultrasound. The only question was if the pregnancy was going to be in the uterus or in a fallopian tube. Well thank god. I still have hope. I'm sure the pregnancy will be in a tube. That will mean I have surgery to remove the tubal pregnancy and then she can remove every freaking reproductive organ in my body. I drove to the doctor's office later that afternoon with a feeling of major dread. This is just not happening right now. It's almost Thanksgiving and I'm NOT thankful in any way, shape or form!
"Amy?", the ultrasound tech calls me as I try to be non-existent in the waiting room fully of happily expecting mommy's. All the fun times of an internal ultrasound....and if you've ever had one, you know what I mean with the level of awkwardness! Nonetheless, she started the ultrasound and there was the sac including a tiny blob firmly planted IN MY FREAKING UTERUS! My heart sunk. She zoomed in on the little blob. THERE WAS A HEART BEAT!!!!!!!!!! I began to sob. Everything I thought I was doing in my life is no longer. I already know what this means for me. This has to be the worst thing that has ever happened to me (or so I told myself). She then began to measure my ovaries. During one of the measurements I said, "Doesn't that ovary just look tired?! I think it's just too tired to do this!" She laughed and said "Is your husband at the bar right now?". I didn't reply. I don't have a husband. That felt like a dagger even on top of everything else I was looking at. Six weeks and one day gestation. Due date: July 18, 2017. My life flashed before my eyes.
The next two weeks was spent mostly crying. Crying on the way to work and on the way home. Crying during lunch and crying myself to sleep. Sometimes, even crying while I forced myself to cook food that all looked and smelled like different forms of vomit. Crying because....well the bottom line is, I'm selfish. I worked like a maniac over the spring and summer to lose weight and get my running game back...at least to some degree. I didn't finish IMTUF (AGAIN!) but I had a strong performance at a 55K in July and felt strongly about my running self again. I felt like I was getting my strong back physically, and mentally too. Now I get to watch all of that go out the window. I've been trying to run still....it's like running underwater. I cannot breathe. My HR is through the roof. So I walk. The other day, I walked 5.5 miles and the next day my glutes and hips were sore. WHAT THE?! This is my new norm....sigh.........
Faith. Faithfulness is a fruit of the Spirit. What in the honking heck does that mean anyway? The only way I could sleep at night is by deducting my circumstances into what looked like a math equation. IF, THEN. If I am a faith person....If I'm a Jesus person...... Then, this must be a miracle. This is a purposeful miracle that clearly was not a random act of punishment. AND If I believe those things, then I also believe that this purposeful miracle is a gift rather than a punishment. I don't believe my loving Creator allows life that is not FOR purpose. And I also believe that I don't understand His ways. This is the truth that I live by and why I would chose anything different in these moments is beside me. I have nothing objective to put on a list of why I should believe this way. I don't have a path of how we will fit now seven people in our already exploding 1400 sq ft home. I don't have a clue how I will survive this emotionally and physically again. I've said so many times in the last year that I was so glad to not be having any more children, to be finally moving on from this place. Nonetheless, here I am. I realized, it is by way of faith that I can believe I will be cared for, believe that this little one who has yet to be born, was created with a purpose and was not a random act of crazy circumstances. Faith. It's my way of living intentionally. It is my privilege to live in faith. ***long exhale***
Did I consider terminating this pregnancy? ABSOLUTELY! Especially when I found out I was early enough that it would be a matter of taking a pill that would cause me to miscarry. I appreciated the fact that I had a choice and was going to allow myself to go through the process of deciding. In the end, my feet were firmly planted in the place of allowing this babe to grow and take over my body for a short period. I hate how I look when I'm pregnant.....in a million ways. I hate how I feel when I'm pregnant...in a billion more ways. I suppose that is my gift to my unborn babe....a gift of allowing something to happen in spite of how I feel....which is horrible, inside and out while a little cutie pie is formed and growing on the inside.
So now what? We carry on. We met with some builders to see about remodeling and adding on to our home. We are looking at other properties with bigger homes. Just last night I woke up worried about a name for the child. I chose to see the positive and focus on the fact that this is a baby. Not a liver transplant or something catastrophic. My attitude is critical. What I focus on will grow....meaning, if I focus on all the things I am not doing and ways that I am temporarily limited, this is going to suck. However, if I focus on the excitement of possibility, the good, the LIFE that is being created, there is potential for contentment and joy....that IS MY middle name after all. : ) I am choosing day by day to get up, be grateful and live in faith that just as this babe clearly has a purpose, I do too...and it's not just giving birth....which by the way, I'm seriously considering using drugs this time. After so many natural births, it's starting to get over rated! I digress.....
I generally go into 100 mile (or longy long) runs with some kind of mental mantra and while this is not a 100 mile run, mentally it feels like it (exponentially so). My mantra is: I look forward with anticipation to knowing this little cutie pot that I have not yet held in my arms. One last time I get to experience the feeling of a cutie growing in my belly. One more time I will go through the agony of giving birth...I choose faith and gratitude.