"For I know the plans I have for you', declares the Lord..." Jeremiah 29:11

Friday, April 20, 2012

[insert: Wayne's World dream sequence music]

Ok so I fibbed. We're going to take this a bit farther back than 3 years. Because, let's be honest, every girl's dream of having children begins long before she and her husband/boyfriend/partner have a conversation about starting to "try". (ie pulling the goalie) And on a side note: a big HUGE HIGH FIVE to any women out there embarking on this journey alone, as a single parent. For the record, you're either mentally unstable or completely AMAZING. My opinion is the latter.

 Growing up, I was your stereotypical girlie girl. Loved frilly dresses, wore bows in my hair, hated loathed getting dirty and loved nothing more than playing with my dolls and I had a TON of them. (yes, Mom, this is me publicly admitting that I was spoiled) Then my sister came along (we're 7 years apart). OMG! My own live doll to play with!!! And much to her disliking, that's exactly how I treated her. When I left for college, although I remained (and forever will) a girlie girl, I didn't think kids were something I ever wanted. Maybe it was due to the fact that I was the daughter of a daycare owner, who had to share her house with "other people's kids"? Or maybe it was because, I was going to be on broadway or travel the world with some renowned dance company. (too bad the size of my cahones, didn't match the size of my dreams, when it came to the entertainment biz). As with everything in life, things change. I stopped dancing, moved home and started a "real career", my priorities had changed. (it wasn't quite that smooth of a transition but with the hope of this post being shorter than War and Peace, we'll leave it at that)
Me and my live doll, Katey xo

As with any 20 something girl, I was on a quest to find love (which would lead to marriage, which would lead to kids). And as with any 20 something girl, on that quest, you inevitably come down with a couple bouts of heartbreak. I was no different. Unfortunately, my heartbreak was not treated with pints of Ben & Jerry's, a few bottles of wine and a box of tissues. (although, I did watch You've Got Mail about 300 times) My heartbreak was sent into a starvation tailspin. ENTER Ed (short for eating disorder) my long hopefully-forever-lost enemy, anorexia. (anorexia is another word I hate and will likely use ED as an alternative) My hunger pain masked my pain of heartbreak and just got completely out of control. At the request (more like on her knees pleading), of my Mom and several friends, and after seeing other doctors and counselors, I agreed to see our long time family physician, Dr. B. I had a full physical, head to toe exam and when he was finished he asked if we could talk. I have seen this man for everything, dislocated knees, sprained ankles, strep throat, colds, I hadn't even gone to an OB/GYN for my first annual exam because I couldn't imagine seeing anyone other than Dr. B. I had all the respect in the world for this man. So when he asked me where I saw myself 10 years from now, (this is 12 years ago now) I didn't think it was odd at all, but I still had no idea where he was going with this. I told him I saw myself married, with a career I loved and with 2-3 kids. He looked at me, tried to clear the lump in his throat and with tears in his eyes said: "Genny, you're less than 80lbs. If you continue on this path, that will never happen." I had no internal woman organs left. I hadn't had my period in a couple of years, my body was literally eating itself, because I wasn't. It was an eye opener and exactly what I needed to hear.

And to think I thought I looked normal???


Over the next few years, I got better. It wasn't comfortable and it wasn't pretty, (I looked like a blowfish for quite some time) but by the grace of God, I got better. As you can imagine, being less than 80lbs makes the quest for love a wee bit more challenging. 1. Who wants to date someone who resembles one of their favorite He-Man toys: Skelatore. 2. Any guy in their right mind knows that dating the walking dead = a heck of a lot of emotional baggage. So abort mission love quest, embark on mission GET GENNY HEALTHY. And with my new mission came a new home, in a new state with lots of sunshine and palm trees. How can you NOT get better in the Sunshine State??? 1 year into my quest for health, 6 months in a new location, what do I find? Why LOVE, of course!!! I say of course for all of you that say/said "Stop looking and you'll find it" well I'm here to say YOU WERE RIGHT!!! Love came in the form of Cozart or was it Cuisinart? Mozart? No it was Quaylude... wait a minute, what's his name again??? Come on you've all done the same thing, and I was no exception. I wasn't sure I was capable of love, or at least not yet. Boy was I wrong!! We had our ups and downs but one thing I could never deny was how much I loved this guy with a crazy name and a bald head. He was, is and hopefully always will be the love of my life!

He proposed in May of 2006 on the beach and it was a complete surprise. I had no clue what-so-ever. We married a year and half later, on the beach in Treasure Island, FL. It was a blast and so beautiful. I wish I could do it all over again, once a year. (You can probably hear Cozart groaning right now!) Married life wasn't much different than before but I will admit I had a few freak out moments. OMG this is FOREVER! I know he can say the same so this isn't news to him.

Mr. & Mrs. Lawrence YAY!!!


Although, I would have liked to start trying to expand our family right away, God had other plans. I worked in the mortgage business and we all know what happened to that. I was left to reinvent myself. (I think I'm still in the process) Cozart was in the pool business which was also hit pretty hard by the "economic downturn" so as you can imagine, we weren't exactly in any position to start a family. As for my health, I am proud to say Mission GET GENNY HEALTHY was and continues to be a success. At this point, post wedding, and even today, I could even stand to shed a few pounds... the healthy way. :) My body has restored/regenerated all that had been shriveled up or eaten away (PRAISE GOD) and from what my doctors had said, I should have no problem having children... (little did they know)

Finally we are to the point where I said we would be starting yesterday. (I probably should have told you at the beginning of this post to grab a cup or coffee, a comfy place to curl up and settle in for a little while. Sorry 'bout that) September 2009, I had recently started a new job (there was a lot of that over the last couple/few years. Hey, I said my reinvention is still IN PROCESS, didn't I?), I was happy (or so I thought), my insurance just kicked in, Cozart had gone back to school and would be done the following year. It seemed like a good time to start trying. After all, it probably wouldn't happen right away and we definitely were not getting any younger. We decided to just see what happened, pull the goalie if you will. I started researching (I have a love/hate relationship with Dr. Internet and all it's minions in the cyber world. I love that it's there as a resource but I hate the misinformation it often provides... more on that later) best times to try, what my body was doing throughout my cycle, etc... Probably doing more than just the "casual trying" we initially discussed but I wanted to know what to expect, no fault in that, right? I also wanted to make sure we were doing it right. ;)

The first month comes and goes with a visit from Aunt Flo, same with the 2nd. No surprise or concern at this point. The 3rd month we did the same thing, only I am armed with 2 months worth of internet knowledge and an ovulation predictor kit (OPK for future reference). Go big or go home, right? A little over a week after seeing the two dark lines on my OPK, I attend a birthday celebration at a local bar/restaurant for our friend Andy. Cozart was working. I ordered a beer, as I normally would, but it tasted awful! I couldn't even finish it. At the time, I chalked this up to it being a "school night" (it was a Wednesday). And with the thought of my lengthy To-do list for the next day, in the back of my head, I just didn't feel like drinking. The weekend came and by Sunday night I knew something was different, not a completely foreign feeling but too soon to be Aunt Flo knocking at the door yet again. I went to bed thinking, just for the heck of it, I'll take a test in the AM. My neighbor and dear friend had just had her 3rd and final baby and she bequeathed to me her over supply of pregnancy tests. I was fully prepared for what could be months of trying and testing. I shot out of bed the next morning filled with so many emotions. Do I still feel... funny? Yes! Could it be? There's only one way to find out... So I did, what has become all too familiar to me, I peed on the stick. And let me tell you, when they say that's the longest 3 minutes of your life (let me take this opportunity to point out that 3 again), they're not kiddin'. I left the room, paced and paced and walked, slowly like I was creeping up on a live animal or something, like it was going to jump up and bite me in the nose, back into the bathroom. And what did I find???? Yep, 2 LINES!!!! No! It can't be! Really? Maybe it's an error? Maybe I should try another one? But I don't have to go to the bathroom and they say, only use the 1st morning's urine. Ugh! I obviously needed to take a moment to let it all sink in. Cozart was at work and wouldn't be home for another hour. I took a shower started to get ready and broke the news to him as soon as he walked in the door. I felt like I was telling him I did something wrong. It was all very surreal. And he wasn't convinced. "Are you sure? You need to go to the doctor and have a blood test. I don't know how accurate those things are." Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for but I think he was just in shock.

A week later, we went to the doctor, where they did another URINE (not blood) test to confirm we were definitely with child. I was over the moon! And Cozart was too, even though he was chronically exhausted from working full time, going to school full time and fitting in clinicals somewhere in between. We didn't want nor did we even discuss waiting to tell every one. We were too excited to wait and in hindsight, I'm glad we did. Some may disagree but I am grateful for the support we had because everyone knew. Besides, it was December with Christmas Parties and New Years Eve. Not that I'm a big drinker but our friends would know something was up. I was going home to Minnesota for Christmas so I did wait to tell my family until then. I wrapped up a webcam and attached a note from the baby about how he or she can't wait to talk to them over the computer, or something like that. It got the exact reaction I was hoping for. There was a lot of jumping up and down and crying and hugging. Still one of my favorite moments, even today.

Our first appointment was more informational than clinical. Our 2nd appointment, at 8 weeks, would consist of more physical exams and clinical stuff. The holidays had came and went. I started to feel less and less like I was pregnant. It was weird, the symptoms would come and go but seemed to come back fainter and fainter. I added this to my list of questions to ask at our next appointment the 2nd week of January. By the time the day arrived, I felt completely normal, and by normal I mean normal pre-pregnancy. I had my energy back, I didn't have any food aversions (not that I had many in the first place), I didn't have to pee all the time, my chest didn't feel sore or swollen like it had. Something was wrong. As I said before, this appointment would be physically examining me. I went through an exam like I normally would for my annual. He commented on seeing a little tinge of blood but nothing to be alarmed about. I asked him about the subsiding symptoms and he said that was normal too. I asked if we would be checking for a heartbeat, as Dr. Internet and his minions had informed me that that is what happens at the 8 week appointment. He said no, he doesn't like to add stress or raise unwarranted concern if they don't hear anything, which you sometimes don't at 8 weeks. I left feeling better but not convinced. I continued to consult Dr. Internet which just freaked me out more, so I decided to just try to not think about it. (yeah right!).

Exactly a week, to the day, after my appointment I woke up in the middle of the night with severe cramps. I got up, drank some water, grabbed the heating pad and tried to go back to sleep. I know many of you are thinking, she called the 24 hour nurse line immediately and got herself in. But I didn't. I think I was kind of in denial. I went to work, it was a Tuesday so we were in the office all day make cold calls (NIGHTMARE!!!!!). By around 10am I decided maybe I should call?? I did and they asked if I could come in today for an ultrasound. I called Cozart and we decided to meet at the doctor's office at 2. I know I said I thought I knew there was something wrong before but, in that week's time I must have done a pretty good job of convincing myself otherwise. As we were walking in to the doctor's office I remember thinking this was just an added bonus, we would get to see our baby via ultrasound earlier than expected. The next thing I remember was lying on the table staring at the ultrasound monitor with her measurement reading 5 WEEKS. I wasn't 5 weeks, I was 9. And that was the first question they asked me: "Are you sure of the date of conception or the date of your last period?". Ummm... You are the ones who confirmed the pregnancy at 4 weeks. That would mean that day was the day of conception and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have gotten a positive pregnancy test. The U/S tech left the room and the doc's midwife came in. (Love her by the way!) She started in with how sorry she was. She would confirm with the doctor but what she sees is what she believes to be a blighted ovum. (there is a placenta, just no embryo) This was and never would be a baby. I could let it pass naturally or I would have to schedule a D&C. Which is what we did. Needless to say, we were devastated. So what did, I do? I went back to work. Talk about commitment! (NOTE: this is the same company that would, 4 months later, "let me go". I won't go there now.)

The D&C took place Friday of that week. It was fairly quick and painless from what I remember. (I was REALLY drugged up though) Thanks again to all my girls for coming over that night to sit on my couch and drink wine while I laid completely comatose. You know who you are (probably better than I do, I don't remember much from that day) and I love you so much for being there that day and always! Anyway... recovery wasn't bad physically. Emotionally was another story. I had restored faith and hope from hearing many stories of people who had miscarried and gotten pregnant right away following. Apparently your hormones are still surging like crazy which in-turn makes it easier to get pregnant. *information courtesy of Dr. Internet. Unfortunately, this would not be the case with us. And so the real journey begins... And with that I will leave you for now. (I'm getting yelled at by the "boss", or so he likes to think, to wrap this up for today) Until next time...xo

2 comments:

  1. You are the bravest person I know!

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  2. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you!

    ReplyDelete