Exactly one year ago today it was a rainy, windy, and chilly autumn day. I had a cold and wasn’t feeling too great except for the fact the day ahead of us would change our lives forever. That morning we drove to the clinic for the last time. Four days prior, seven follicles had been harvested from my ovaries, of which only two had gone on to divide normally, and on that day, Thursday October 1st, 2013, one of those 8-celled emrbyos was placed in my womb.
The procedure was completely uneventful. I undressed from the waist down and climbed onto the table like I’d done dozens (upon dozens upon dozens) of times before. I placed my feet into the stirrups, slid down and opened my legs, but this time there was more on the line. There would be no more inseminations, only IVF. This time though everything else felt the same physically, it was already a beginning of a life that was carefully placed inside me. The doctor found a perfect looking spot and there it was–a white dot on the monitor, the first picture ever taken of our baby.
The two week wait was insufferable as always, but exactly 10 days after the transfer I started experiencing crazy moodswings. It was my partner’s birthday, and I was feeling so off-whack I felt like leaving the birthday brunch I threw for her. I was never one for any crazy PMS, so this was a new sensation that led me to think something could be up. Just as with prior chemical pregnancies (or residual Pregnyl) I had bizarre vertigo, colors seemed almost violently brighter, and I felt like stranger in my own body. A few days later I couldn’t resist not knowing anymore, and on a tuesday two days before I was ‘supposed’ to, I took the test. 2-3 weeks pregnant, it said. There was no going back.
My beautiful girl is 3,5 months old. Motherhood is everything and nothing like I could ever imagine. The love I feel for that little human is something more and beyond I thought I was ever capable of feeling. I am extremely privileged to be able to stay at home until the end of March with her.
The first weeks are a blur–I remember mostly breast feeding and being sore. Then I had my little complication, after which recovery seems to have sped up exponentially. We take long walks in the nearby central park (which is really a forest, not a park), attend mommy-baby yoga on Thursdays, visit with friends and wash lots and lots of laundry. All babies spit up some, but some babies spit up much more than others. Somewhere in the last 15 weeks my tiny new born has grown into a little baby who babbles her little head off at familiar pictures and toys (and her parents, of course), grabs things, turns to her side, and lets me know when she needs to burp while eating. We’ve survived some pretty serious poop-situations in very public places (thank goodness for child-care areas in shopping malls, you’ve saved my life!), some very sleepless nights, and even her first vaccinations.
Overall, little summer Solstice baby is very content (her smile is infectious!), sleeps like a dream (usually wakes up only once to feed per night), and is incredibly social and playful. Due to her new interest in turning to her side, diaper changes have become quite a challenge.
Speaking of diapers we switched to cloth diapers about a month ago–it was something I always wanted to do, but considering my challenging last trimester of pregnancy, I only got around to doing my research and buying the diapers after I first got used to this whole baby business. That’s been a whole new world, but as they say, even one cloth diaper a day relieves some environmental pressure. Anyone else doing this?
In other news, we just bought a bigger house! As if having a baby wasn’t enough of a life-changing event!