I've heard that there's the terrible two's, and then there's the terrible three's. Boy were people right. We had some rough times right around this time last year, as she was heading into her second birthday. They were rough for many reasons.... I don't think I was ready for my loving little girl to suddenly turn into a temper tantrum throwing toddler. I was pregnant. I had never lived through it and was quite unable to tell how much she understood.
It's different now. For one, while we remain in speech therapy, she is doing much more talking and I KNOW she understands. I'm not pregnant, and I've now lived through it.
This is SO much worse than it was last year. This is all out screaming, throwing herself around, laying on the floor and kicking her legs and flailing her arms, screaming, head banging, screaming tantrums. Did I mention screaming? It's heartbreaking. I see why some parents give in. It's so hard sometimes to stand my ground. But she gets her stubborn from me.
Tonight it started because I gave her some raspberries to snack on (she asked for them). She has an issue with eating food with a boo boo (that's a whole nother post), so she started throwing some raspberries in the sink on the side with the garbage disposal. So I told her if they have boo boo's they taste better (sometimes this works), but that didn't stop it. So then I asked her nicely to stop. She didn't. I explained if she didn't I would take them away. She didn't. So I took them away.
The tantrum commenced.
So I held her and tried to comfort her, it didn't work. Then she wanted TV. Which I told her she had to throw away her yogurt container from this morning, eat dinner, and then she could watch a show. (yeah, we had to get up EARLY and K is out of town, so the container was still sitting there LOL). She grabbed the container and made it all the way out to the garbage in the kitchen, then threw them on the floor and wanted MAMA to throw it away.
No go girly.
So she threw another fit, not that the first one had ever really ended. That lasted until dinner was on the table. Then she finally calmed down, picked up the yogurt container and threw it away and came and had dinner. Then she was great for the rest of the night.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Thursday, May 9, 2013
***I wrote this post 2 weeks ago, but had other posts scheduled so decided to wait to post this one***
After K and I had been trying to get pregnant for over a year, we finally decided to talk to my Ob/Gyn about testing. She tested us and while I had slightly low progesterone, I was otherwise fine. Which was interesting to me as my cycles were insanely irregular and she had to induce it a couple of times in that first year or so we were trying. K on the other hand was not so good. In fact, his issues were pretty severe, and not anything that we could fix with environmental changes, vitamins or even surgery. There was No. Way. to make his numbers better.
We went to see a urologist that specialized in male infertility, then we self-referred to an RE. Out of all 3 docs they all gave us the same basic news… that it was unlikely we’d ever get pregnant on our own. The urologist basically told us to move on to adoption. That first RE said he could get us pregnant through IVF, but that if we continued to try on our own our chances were abysmal. The stats that he gave us were that if I ovulated every single month, and we managed to have sex at the right time every single month, for 10 years, we had a 1% chance of managing to get pregnant in that time frame.
Yes, I remember those words like I heard them yesterday.
That stat was very frightening at that time. It was the culmination of almost 2 years of trying at that point, and the beginning of the horrifying journey of infertility treatments. Our hearts were broken, and we thought the best way to move on was to jump into the treatments.
That fateful first meeting with that RE where we were given that stat was over 5 years ago. We had no idea what lay ahead of us, or what we would go through to get where we are today. We still had a lot of hope that we would be parents, it was before we became shattered shells of the individuals that we were in the beginning. We didn’t know that through all of the hell that we were about to go through we would come out the other side with our marriage intact and two beautiful children. We didn’t know that our faith would be squashed and then restored. We just didn’t know.
Yesterday I started my period. And for the first time in over 7 years I’m annoyed that she is here. I’m not even sure that’s the right way to put it, because every month for that time frame I would wish she wouldn’t come, but then end up hoping she’d show so that we could move on with the next cycle.
But this time is different. I know that my child bearing years are over. That’s bittersweet to me, as I love pregnancy and babies and everything that goes along with it. But we never wanted more than 2 children, and I don’t think that has changed for either of us. I feel complete, fulfilled with my babies. I look at them and feel happy, ecstatic, satisfied, amazed, but most of all grateful. I know that never again will I deal with the shots, the heartache, the hope mixed with fear. I know that I got those things that I most wanted in life, and every day they remind me of the innocence that I once had and lost.
K and I agreed that we would tempt fate. We agreed that hormonal birth control doesn’t work for me (I become crazy), I’m not excited at the idea of an IUD or anything like it, and we both hate condoms.
Suddenly, that 1% stat that made us cry all those years ago, that 1% stat that we hated with a depth unknown to most people, that 1% stat that almost killed us, has suddenly become an OK thing. It’s suddenly become the thing that leaves us comfortable in our decision to not use birth control, but leaves us with little worry that anything would come of it. That horrible horrible stat is suddenly something we’re OK with, in a strange sense almost thankful for.
Because we recognize, that if that 1% stat were to come true, if it were to happen, then it would truly be our miracle that we were meant to have, that God always intended for us. If one of those few little guys was ever able to make it to his final destination and meet his mate in my egg, then we know that would be one heckuva strong baby that was MEANT for this world. (and yes, in some ways I hope that happens, and I think that's because of infertility ~ I'd love to get the one thing I was told I couldn't)
So take that INFERTILITY. I still hate you and what you did for us (and continue to do for others), but now I’ve accepted you in a way that I never thought would be possible. And as I move on with my life and leave those dark clouds of Infertility behind me I put my face up to the sun and soak in the warmth with my husband by my side and my CHILDREN in my arms.