The G-Free Pregnancy Project

Looking at the news, we are obsessed with babies. Pregnant celebrities are photographed showing every stage of their baby bumps, maternity fashions are actually wearable (and even cute!), and I can't scroll through 10 posts on Facebook or Instagram without finding a newborn photographed curled up inside a baseball glove/perched on top of a pumpkin/being swallowed by a very large crocheted flower that failed in its quest to become a headband.

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.