At first, as my younger brother so kindly reminded me, I thought it was just natural ("Isn't your biological clock going crazy by now? TICK, TOCK!" Oh
yes, he actually said that!) Or "grown-up peer pressure,"
as my friends began starting families, one by one. I resisted (I'm
still young-ish, not especially financially secure, still want to paint
the bathroom, haven't taken that trip to Ireland yet,
and on and on) until I got wonderfully simple advice from my sister; "Em,
there is never a good time to have a baby, but you just do it and
make it work." And I, the ultimate planner/type A control freak
finally realized what I had been in denial of for so long--I
unequivocally, desperately, soul-shakingly want a child to cradle, to
nurture, to teach and delight in.
Ok, enough with the deep stuff. Let's
start at the beginning. I love kids. I love squeezing the chubby
little thighs my cousin has, watching my nephew grow and learn new
things, making a friend's baby laugh playing peek-a-boo. Some of my
favorite memories are from teaching swimming lessons to little
ones over summer breaks. The sheer joy on their faces after jumping
into the deep end--these children would glow with a light that makes
the world beautiful. It is enchanting. It is contagious. It is
everything.
So, I had made my decision, now in my
early 30s, and knew that it was time to begin my family (apparently
my husband had wanted a baby all along but hadn't wanted to pressure
me--what a sweetie!) I felt light and joyful and excited. And cried.
A lot. Pretty much every time I read a book, watched a movie...even
when I had a good evaluation at work (just a little embarrassing...)
I thought (hoped?) it was pregnancy hormones, but I guess I was just
super emotional.
Next came the easy part, or so I
thought. After more than a year and a half of trying to get pregnant with no
success, my husband and I went to see a fertility specialist. Despite
feeling a bit like a failure (more on that in another blog post), I
was ready to hear what drugs I had to take, what herbs and teas I had
to have, what exercises I had to do. What I wasn't prepared for was
the test results. Turns out, I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome
(PCOS). Strike 1. And a tilted uterus. Strike 2. More on the medical
stuff in another post. All of the other tests turned out fine,
and I thought we would be fine. Then the bombshell dropped. I found
out I have Celiac disease (WAY more on that in another post). What
does being gluten-free have to do with getting pregnant? Actually a
good deal, as it turns out. Strike 3...or is it? Stay tuned!
Yes, this is another story about
pregnancy (I'm selfish, remember?), and fertility struggles, and
navigating a gluten-free lifestyle. This is my story.
