On November 8th, 2017, the day of our IVF transfer, we had sex that morning before heading into the surgery center. It wasn’t something we planned to do, and to be honest, we probably should have cleared this by our doctor, but we knew this day was special and wanted to somehow feel like we romantically came together and made a baby. I had no idea this would be the last time I would make love to my husband until after Flo was born. Seven weeks postpartum to be exact. According to math, that’s TEN WHOLE MONTHS without fornication.
This is it y'all. The BEST, most scary, most exciting day of my life. The day our sweet baby Flo entered this world. Yes, I setup a GoPro camera in the corner to capture her arrival. And yes, I've watched it at least a dozen times already. Don't worry, you won't see my coot coot or any weird shit. I'm keeping it classy, for once. But before you watch the video, and think, wow, that looks so easy, she literally pushed for under a minute... Let me tell you somethin' (in my best Ace Ventura voice). There were A LOT of challenges leading up to this moment.
TRUTH : Infertile mommas tend to be a little on the paranoid side. But, understandably so y'all. We're used to loss. We're used to disappointment. We're used to failure. Many of us get to place of accepting this way of life and learn to EXPECT just about EVERYTHING to go wrong when it comes to baby makin'. Amiright?
We've decided to save the "gender reveal" to just us. In the delivery room. The old school way. Perhaps I should tight roll my maternity jeans and pop in a mix tape to get ready for the big day. I'm thinking something with a little C&C Music factory should do the trick. Deciding to wait on finding out was not an easy process for me. For a Type A, obsessive, perfectionist, planner, control freak, this choice was NOT at all comfortable. In the beginning, I desperately wanted to know.
Now that I'm pregnant, people are starting to treat me like any, normal, "fertile" pregnant woman. Most would think, this is what I want - to feel normal. I don't blame them, I can see why people would think this. They might think - she's finally pregnant and past all the grieving and hard stuff, so this is the time to shower her with excitement and baby talk. But, I'm so not.
I'm infertile and proud. No one can take that away from me. Infertility is and always will be apart of me. Infertility has made me stronger. Infertility has made me better. And just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean things end here. I'm still taking two-three injections per day in the ass for another 11 weeks. I'm still choking down handfuls of large pills every night. I'm still jacked with fertility hormones. I'm still in the doctor's office being monitored and tested multiple times a week to make sure the baby is still hanging on.
A mother is someone who gives hugs when we need them. It's someone who is patient and understanding even when we are wrong. It's someone who does the best that they can to help us through hardships. It's someone who stands by us and helps ease our pain. It's someone who believes in us, and loves us unconditionally. It's someone who leads by example and encourages us.