Redirection

I need to get back into this, to redirect this blog into something that is not about infertility and our struggle to become pregnant, but about my life.

There are still struggles, good days, bad days, things to celebrate, things to vent about, I just need to do it.

So much has happened since I last blogged. First and foremost and most life changing......We have a daughter. A beautiful, perfect, healthy daughter. She is my sunshine. She is my life. I cannot imagine living my life without her in it. When I look back on my darkest days of struggling with IF, I can honestly say that although it was painful and I am forever scarred, she was/is worth it. Totally, totally worth it.

I guess I should begin with her birth story and move forward from there.

C was born on 2/14/11. 2 weeks early. By C-section (which surprised us). I started having contractions on 2/13/11 at 2:45am. They were consistently 10 minutes apart throughout the rest of the morning, shortening to 9....to 8...to 7, and then just when I am thinking, "Maybe this is it." They kind of calm right down . To 11 minutes apart at one point in time, at which point I stopped timing them.

I decided to lay down and take a nap. Wasn't happening, but I was able to rest quietly for a bit. My parents came over and we bbq'd steaks and had baked potatoes and sauteed mushrooms. We even had dessert (a love cake - Funfetti with a Valentine's Day theme). I was uncomfortable throughout dinner, but still not really having timeable contrax. My parents left and A and I went to bed around 8ish (I was tired from not really sleeping the night before and wanted him with me). As soon as I laid down, boom! Contractions started back up, right at 5 minutes apart and with great intensity. I sat on my workout ball and bounced around, which helped a bit, but they quickly became more and more intense. I was moaning and crying and feeling embarrassed that I was making such a fuss. I tried rocking on all fours during a contraction, which seemed to help also. Around 10:30 I begged A to call the doctor to see if we could go to the hospital. We got the go-ahead.

Grabbed all our stuff and drove in. Got checked in, moved to a room (this is around 11:30p) and a nurse checked me. (In the midst of this I threw up my love cake :( and now I don't really desire Funfetti cake, lol) She called another nurse to do a check also (me moaning and apologizing for it throughout the entire time) and the conversed quietly about how the doctor was hopefully arriving soon and told me I was at a 9. A 9! All I could think was, "Crap, now I can't have an epidural." (Which coincidentally, I hadn't wanted, but once I was to that point, I really, really did) The OB arrives (not my OB, the on-call, who I actually ended up liking better!) and he checks me and calls for an u/s machine. Turns out our baby was breech, which we were unaware of. Time for a c-section.

A suits up, they wheel me to surgery, and within about 30 minutes of getting back there, our baby girl is born at 1:20a on Valentines Day. She weighed 7lbs 1oz and was 19.5in long. Beautiful, with lots of hair, and dark blue eyes.

We didn't know what we were having, but we had names picked for either gender (1 for a boy, 2 for a girl). We named her, A went with her to get checked out and I got all stitched up and taken to recovery (where she was waiting!) and life has never been the same.