So, hopefully everyone has already figured out that I'm knocked up. That's right, there's a "medium-shrimp" sized fetus with like fingers and toes and facial expressions getting bigger inside me every day. Since I haven't blogged in a while, let's start from the beginning.
In April, 2012, I went to the Gynecologist because I had a few concerns. (I won't list them to try and keep this as family friendly as a post about getting pregnant can be.) A few days later, the Doctors Office called me with my test results and I had been diagnosed with Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome. Essentially, It's a lady-problem that would make really hard sometimes near impossible to get pregnant. I cried a little that night. At this point, Ben and I were already planning on getting married and we talked about it and he told me that if we couldn't have kids, that we would adopt and it made me feel so much better.
On our wedding day, August 4, 2012, my darling husband to be was in need of some sprite and Pepto Bismol. So after we went to IHOP for breakfast, we stopped by Walgreens on our way to start with the wedding festivities. We grab our ill-stomach essentials and halfway back up the store I stop Ben and say, "OK, so... Here's the deal. Even though I have PCOS and it means it could take us a while to get pregnant, if I do ovulate (being the newlyweds we are) there's a good chance I'm gonna get pregnant. So if you aren't prepared to get pregnant right away, then maybe we should pick up some contraceptives." Ben stood in the middle of the isle for a minute and contemplated this information I had just given him. His Response: A shoulder shrug followed by, "We'll see what happens." Followed by him walking up to the front and checking out. I took that as him saying, "LET'S DO THIS!!!!" in his, I'm a way too cool man to get excited about anything kind of way.
Then... we were newlyweds. I won't really say much more about that.
On September 7th, I realized I had ovulated. I was stoked. I wanted to take a pregnancy test right then and there, but I refrained knowing it would be negative regardless.
So instead, I googled. EVERYTHING. From the "earliest signs of pregnancy to labor videos to everything you could possibly imagine. I'm sure that we paid a crap ton of data that month.
On September 15th, ( If you're doing your math right, you know that this means I was 8 days past ovulation) I was spending a Saturday with my mom and sister running errands. I mentioned to my sister that I was 8 dpo and she immediately exclaimed, "WHY HAVEN'T YOU TAKEN A PREGNANCY TEST YET!!!!!" Now, if you've done any googling, you'll know that most people don't get a positive pregnancy test until 11-13 days past ovulation. At this point, I wasn't sure I was entirely ready to accept that it could be a negative test yet and I hated spending $20 just to pee on a stick. She called my other sister and they were just both besides themselves that I was refusing to take a test. After offering to BUY the test, I finally told her that I would do it. We walked in the house and I went to pee. Without even looking at the test, I threw it at her and said, "I told you it was negative." She responded with an "I know" that was really sassy. Suddenly her eyes got really big and she said, "Mallory.....Mal.....Mallory! You're pregnant!" Uh... WHAT@$#&^$*%#@^&&#*^$*#^*(&$*#^#&!!!!! Sure enough, there it was, a tiny faint pink line right next to the control line. I immediately texted my husband a picture of the test. I forgot to include the part where it says two lines means pregnant, but I think he got the point eventually. We refrained from telling anyone besides close friends and immediate family, because in all my googling, I knew there was a chance we could lose the baby. My sister had just miscarried a few months prior. So we held it in.
If you're doing the math at this point, you're probably thinking I should be like 6.5 months pregnant instead of just three months.
On November 1st, we went in for our first ultrasound to see how far along I was, and the doctor was unable to find a heartbeat. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to hear. Worst of all, was explaining to Ben that after all his excitement, that we had lost the baby.
A week later, I went in for a D&C and had everything removed. It was awful. My heart goes out to anyone who has had to go through this. :(
I'm going to skip most of the sad and jump to the happy. A couple months after the miscarriage, I was wanting to take these diet pills to shed a few lbs. I knew you shouldn't take them while you were pregnant and I hadn't even had a period yet, but I thought maybe I had ovulated. I took a pregnancy test while I was at work and it came out positive. at first I was shocked! Then Excited! Then freaking out because I though maybe it could be remaining hormones from the miscarriage. Then freaking out even more, because if it wasn't, then what if I lost the baby again. Holy ball of emotions, right?
Looooong story short, I went to the doctor they confirmed it was a pregnancy, we heard a heartbeat at 7 weeks, and again at 11 weeks. :) It's the best sound you'll ever hear in the entire world.
So here we are again. :) Knocked up with a little baby Coombs and I couldn't be more excited. I'm already trying to pick out names and buy stuff but my husband is making me wait until we at least have a gender. He's too smart for my good. ;)
We could potentially know the sex in about two weeks if we do a recreational ultrasound. My husband (of course,) doesn't want to pay the $80 for that, but I'm still working on trying to convince him. If not, it will be about 6 more weeks before we know. Either way, I'm just ecstatic there is a little baby in there, sucking the life outta me. :)