Part 3: Hope springs...

I had been wanting and waiting for our little family to grow for so long.

I went through (irrational) moments of feeling I was being punished for wanting too much.  For not being happy with what I had.

Then I would look at my dad going through his parents aging and only having one brother to share it with compared to my mom who had five siblings with whom to commiserate.  What was wrong with wanting my kids to have more than just each other?  I could see how loving Little Man and Miss were around babies and the youngers.  They would be great older siblings together.

So now we were on chance #4.

When DH got up that morning, he asked what the test said.  I immediately started crying.  He hugged me and said "It will be okay" which I got mad about.  How did he know?  He couldn't promise that.  Nothing had been okay so far with any of it!  He, being the more rational of the two, said we couldn't wallow in the pessimism.  Which is true.  But the anxiety and nerves and pessimism can be so consuming.

I called the nurse practitioner and her nurse called me back that afternoon.  She could tell I was scared and said they would pray for me.  She gave me the new plan of attack and told me to contact an OB immediately to setup my first appointments.  So I did.

I got lucky and ended up with a gung-ho OB.  She ordered a litany of blood tests and had contacted a high-risk specialists about any others she should order.  I did two rounds of blood draws and waited for the results.

We told our parents in the meantime.  We were happy but you could tell it came with some breath-holding.

The blood tests showed I had a genetic mutation that prevented folic acid from being produced along with some low levels of Vitamin D and other nutrients.  The OB immediately put my on high folate and supplements and scheduled an ultrasound.  She also was determined to keep a close eye on me since I was a "rarity" for the conditions I displayed.

I felt sick as I waited for the first ultrasound.  When the tech came out, I laughed.  It was the same tech that had confirmed my two miscarriages.  And she remembered.  She was as nervous as I was.  With great relief she found a heartbeat immediately and we sat and listened.  After she handed me the first pictures, I left with a little more breathing room.  I texted DH and we silently celebrated.

Then I got a call from my OB.  She wanted to keep close tabs on me so she scheduled another ultrasound for two weeks.  More waiting.

This time I had a different technician.  But again, she immediately found the heartbeat.  We were getting closer.

I had another appointment with my OB.  She was pleased with my nausea and growing belly - as hard as I tried to hide it.  She wanted to schedule a third ultrasound, though, because there was some bleeding in my uterus.  Again....we waited.

Finally the third one came around and I nervously asked if DH wanted to bring Little Miss and Little Man.  They could wait outside until we knew everything was okay.  I was approaching 12 weeks and feeling stronger.  So he did.  The technician (the same as my second ultrasound) immediately found the heartbeat so we could listen to the music.  Then she said the bleeding looked like it had gone down immensely.  A weight was lifted.  I finally felt like we could celebrate for real.  We called in Little Miss and Little Man and when they figured out the pictures on the screen where of a baby growing in my belly, they were ecstatic!  We shared in the joy of our growing family.

We left the ultrasound office with fresh pictures and a sense that we could finally share the news.  (And I could finally wear pants that fit!)

So we did.  Slowly.

There are still moments of apprehension but those are slowly giving way to moments of embrace.  The hope is that this continues...