I try to not think of this too often anymore, but it comes to mind from time to time, usually around March or October. There are a lot of reasons to remember finding out you are pregnant for the first time. Sometimes it’s expected. Sometimes not. Sometimes you feel joy. Sometimes you don’t. Everyone has a story and this is mine.
Ron and I were engaged right before Christmas of 1998. You can read about his unusual proposal here if you’re interested. We planned our wedding for May of 2000. On the way home from visiting my family the Christmas before our wedding, we started talking about kids. Well, we’d talked about kids before and were planning on starting a family soon after getting married. We were somewhat on the older side – Ron was 30 and I was 29 and we didn’t want to wait long. During that conversation in the car on the 2-hour drive, one of us (I can’t remember which) suggested that there really wasn’t any reason to wait – we were about to be married in a matter of months anyway and besides, I was on the pill and you know they always say it can take months to get pregnant after you go off of the pill. So why wait? Maybe we’d get pregnant right around the wedding.
Or not. Our first month off the pill – we weren’t even exactly even ‘trying’ yet – but I noticed that I was a day or two late. I was pretty regular, but then again I’d been on the pill for years. I had no idea what this first cycle off of it would be like. So a couple of days went by, and then a couple more. Before I went on the pill to the regulated 28-day cycle, I always had a shorter one, around 24 days or so. So by 32 days, I was either slightly late or very late!
I had suspicions so I stopped and bought a test on my way to work. Probably at Walgreens, but I don’t really remember for sure, or what else I would’ve bought at the time. I do remember that I took the test in the bathroom at work at lunchtime. And I saw two lines for the very first time. And I have never been the same since – something changed in the first moment that I saw that second line.
Almost everyone in my office was at lunch, except for my boss – well she wasn’t my boss yet, but she was also a friend and was to be a bridesmaid in our wedding. I went to her and told her that I was pregnant. And even though she has never had or wanted kids, she was happy for me because she knew I did. Funny thing is though I don’t remember actually telling Ron. That’s weird, isn’t it. I remember telling him every other time, except for this one. I do remember that he was ecstatic and called everyone he knew immediately to tell them. He was thrilled. We both were.
Not to go into too much detail, but that first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage by the beginning of March. I don’t know if it was from having gotten pregnant right off the pill – my doctor said that shouldn’t have made a difference, but I will always wonder. I was devastated – to feel such joy and then – just emptiness.
When I got pregnant with Abby, two months after our wedding, I was so afraid to believe it at first. In fact, my doctor told me that I most likely wasn’t pregnant because the test I took there was negative, even though I’d taken several at home that showed a (very, very faint) second line. I waited over probably one of the longest weekends of my life and then (after several more positive home tests) went back in and got the official +. I had done an ovulation prediction kit that month and had never gotten a positive result, but apparently I must’ve ovulated anyway, because Abby came along 9 months later. Big, beautiful and healthy. And I know that things must happen for a reason, because I can’t imagine my life without her.
Abby was born 6 months after my original due date with the miscarried pregnancy. Six months – to the day. October 3rd to April 3rd.
Here’s our first family photo – taken right around our first wedding anniversary. Abby was 7 weeks old:
This post was written as part of Memory Lane Monday over at MomsBlogging.com. Thanks for the great idea, ladies!