It is still so surreal to me. The days and months were unbearably dragging trying to get pregnant but ever since that life changing moment when those two lines appeared I have been grasping at every single moment since because it has truly gone so fast. I’m past full term now, (depending on which medical professional you ask) which means our second Daughter could really make her appearance at anytime, so with that I guess it’s time to fill you all in.

With all the setbacks we’d had during our trying to conceive journey, going into our 10th continuous cycle of another negative pregnancy test we were really starting to get over the unexplained baby no show. By this point we were on top of every suggestion our fertility specialist had given us, except one. I still remember so clearly on Wednesday November 16, 2016 – one year and four days after loosing Eden we saw our fertility specialist. She said her last option before referring us for IVF was a keyhole surgery, she suspected that maybe my Polysistic Ovaries could also mean I had Endometriosis as I had symptoms of both. So on her whim and only 5 days later, on November 21, 2016 I was having surgery.

I woke up immediately feeling sore and sorry for myself. I was meant to be in my best childbearing years…yeah fucking right. My prior history was the six months to conceive our first daughter and subsequently loosing her at 19 weeks, then being told I needed a hysterectomy due to the negligence of the surgeon who punctured my uterus while removing my deceased daughters premature, stuck placenta and then the gut-wrenching reality that this was all my life now. People always said we had time on our side because we were young but we didn’t. Fighting to keep my uterus in the hopes that if we could stop the bleeding from the puncture site long enough to get pregnant meant that I was immediately high risk, with a grim outcome if my placenta were to grow over the site. At any moment I could have an episode that would result in an emergency hysterectomy yet people looked at me like I was just another 22 year old girl looking to get pregnant. On top of that, I bled out through my belly button incision site twice (imagine a scene from CSI or something were you’re lying in a pool of blood. Yep, another day in the life. Did I mention that happened twice?).

Knowing after surgery my period was unlikely to appear for a couple of months and having been given a dose of fertility medication to take during my next cycle, Steve and I held out hope for that and decided to take a break from our specialists planned sex schedule. We went back two weeks later to have it confirmed – I had severe Endometriosis and was apart of the 20% of women it made sterile. If left untreated it could have had dire long term consequences. Now it was two weeks before Christmas and well…I had healed from surgery and all so why not (insert winky faces here).

Christmas day! I woke up and had an odd sense of calm as my brain said to me “Girl, you’re pregnant.”. I ignored that inner voice and what I thought was my terrible maternal instincts, deciding not to tell Steve and to definitely NOT take a test as I wasn’t due for another month or so. The Christmas to New Year period is generally my time of year to let my hair down (in other words I get super hammered on NYE) but was suddenly declining alcohol for no specific reason – I assumed my body didn’t want it so I wasn’t going to force it. Then on New Years day, as Steve cooked us dinner I just randomly said “I think I’m going to go take a pregnancy test.” “Okay.” Steve condones with a lifted eyebrow as I start walking off. I just wanted to get it over and done with as I was sick of seeing that one line like I had every other month and didn’t want my mind playing tricks on HOLY FUCK TWO LINES?!?! My heart thumping was all I could hear as that second line appeared and I couldn’t manage a single sound. I held this pregnancy test with both hands like I was about to offer a sacrifice to the Gods and walked back out into the kitchen, I felt like I had stood there for an eternity not being able to make a sound but within a minute I must have caught Steve’s peripheral vision and he just looked at me and said “You’re pregnant!!”. Every emotion flooded us as we hugged and it was as if all our problems had disappeared.

By the time I had done my home test and gotten bloods I was a little over four weeks pregnant which was almost bewildering to me as I had found out I was pregnant with Eden at two weeks so the three month wait seemed excruciatingly long. I knew this time was going to be different, harder both physically and mentally on me as I wasn’t naive to the what ifs. At my first appointment back with our fertility specialist now turned obstetrician I was advised I had to give up all exercise, have no intercourse and be on light duties. Having a short cervix meant basically anything could put me into premature labour so I had to be vigilant. I ended up needing to reduce my hours and duties at work and then finished completely at 30 weeks.

I’m so grateful to say my pregnancy has been magical and mostly stress free due to my great obstetrician who monitors me like a hawk and my incredible, irreplaceable Husband who has had to do literally all the housework/errands while I usually sit somewhere stuffing my face telling him he missed a spot. I wouldn’t trade the 100 new skin tags, 3 extra chins, hormonal acne, pregnancy face rash or 20kg weight gain for anything. To know my body has carried the most precious beings who will for an eternity have shared the same vessel is beyond amazing. Now we just have to get our rainbow Bub here safe, healthy and happy.


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