A Chemical Pregnancy

                In my last blog I talked about the decision to move forward and try for baby #2. The good news is, we went for it. I read everything I could to learn how to “get pregnant” and actually try for a baby. Our first was a surprise, we weren’t “trying” to get pregnant, it just happened, as many pregnancies do, and truth be told, this is my preferred “method” as apparently I function better in surprise situations. I took so many pregnancy tests the poor dollar store could barely keep up with me. Sometimes I would even test twice a day. As the pregnancy progressed I can remember noticing that second pink line would appear faster and darker each time I would take one. It was almost like a science experiment minus the petri dishes, Bunsen burner and test tubes.

                This time around, knowing I would want to test a zillion times, I stocked up. I ordered a big ol’ bag of pregnancy test strips from where else, Amazon, thank you prime, and in addition I had my dollar store tests ready to roll too. I have become a wealth of knowledge in regards to getting pregnant. Ladies, let me tell you, in my opinion First Response is over rated and overpriced. Look for the tests that can detect the lowest amount of HCG and don’t cost you $20.00. There are several on the market that will save you dollars and definitely work to detect pregnancy up to 6 days before your missed period. I am proof. I can say that I am now well versed and know all about ovulation, luteinizing hormone, basil body temperature, conception, fertilization, the journey along the fallopian tube, implantation, cell stage, cell division, blastocyst, human chorionic gonadotropin, zygote, embryo, implantation cramps, implantation bleeding, sensitivity of 25 mIU, or 25 ng/L, apparently I just received my degree in human fertilization.

                After all of the research, applying the concepts, taking my temperature, being HYPER AWARE of my body and the changes that happen with each “cycle”, I felt beyond confident we would hit a home run and we would conceive. So I started testing, overzealously early, just in case, and of course I received several negative results, but then, I took a test 8 days before my period was due and the faintest line you could ever imagine appeared. It was barely visible, but it was there. I knew that with each passing day your little stud or muffin doubles the amount of HCG in your body so the next day’s test should appear darker. As planned, I took another test a day later, and there it was, a definitive second line, still fair in color, but unmistakably there. I was THRILLED. A New Year’s Day baby. A new year’s day due date, how cute, instead of popping corks off champagne bottles I’ll be popping out a baby.

                Day three, I took a test, I waited, I waited, I waited, no line. I took another test, still, no line. Admittedly it was the afternoon so I chocked it up to that. I read and read, sometimes this happens, sometimes you drink too much water and it’s too early in a pregnancy and you flush the hcg levels to below detection. No worries, I will try again tomorrow first thing in the morning, just like you’re supposed to. Woke up in the morning, took one Amazon test and one Dollar Store test, both showed no line. What happened? What the hell just happened? I know enough to know that it is next to impossible to obtain a false positive. So here’s what happened, it’s called a chemical pregnancy.

                What the hell is a chemical pregnancy? How did I miss this in my “studies”. Well, here’s what a chemical pregnancy is, it’s a pregnancy that starts and ends before your missed period. Chemical pregnancies make up more than 75% of miscarriages, and account for ONE in FOUR pregnancies. More often than not they go completely unnoticed since a period hasn’t been missed so most women don’t even know they have conceived, and this happens because of random chromosomal abnormalities that cease the continuation of implantation & development. Sigh….ok. They are referred to as chemical pregnancies because they cannot be detected clinically by ultrasound, they can only be detected by a pregnancy test or blood test.

                So, it’s back to the drawing board for baby number two. The good news is, I have pretty much nailed my “fertile days” so hopefully the next time around we will have more luck. Also, when I asked Maverick if he wanted a baby brother, or sister, he shook his head no, several times, but for the record, he shakes his head no for everything, I just found it hysterical at the time. Apparently, what Mav wants, Mav gets, and he wasn’t ready for a sibling this go round, but I’m optimistic that when the time is right, it will happen.

                I debated on whether or not I should blog about this, but I figured, what the hell. There’s probably lots of girls out there who might have experienced this, and I’m hoping to shed some light on the bright side of things. More often than not, subsequent pregnancies post a chemical pregnancy are a success, so cheers to that, and cheers to knowing I can get pregnant again as this in and of itself can be a mystery for hundreds of women! This little bump in the road has also taught me not to procrastinate, and to accept that things won’t always go exactly as planned. You would think I would know this by now, but sometimes we all need a little reminder.

Boob and Bottle on....

    
    

     Breastfeeding. Sigh....Will I? Won't I? Is it going to be great, or is it going to be torture? How do I really feel about it? What's going to happen to my boobs when I'm finished? Am I a hippy mom? Can't I just do formula? These are all questions I asked myself prior to my first son being born. My mother had breastfed all 4 of her kids, and she swore by it's many benefits, including the weight loss and it's potential to lower the risk of breast cancer (which runs heavily on her side of the family). So I decided I would try it and if I hated it I would stop, and if not, I would do my best to make it a full year.
     I remember how the thought of breastfeeding honestly creeped me out. I couldn't really explain why, but there was something about it that was completely unappealing. Truthfully, I was uneducated on the subject. I didn't care either way if a woman breastfed or formula fed, it makes no difference to me, and since I never planned on having babies I just didn't put the effort into thinking about whether or not I would breastfeed. I also didn't mind at all to see other women doing it, I just didn't think I would want to.
     After telling people we were having a baby it was a question that was frequently asked, "well, are you going to breastfeed?" I felt like I was under a microscope and I thought, gosh, I've really got to think about this and make a decision because it seems so important, one way or the other, to so many people. Women who formula fed were big proponents of doing that, women who breastfed were also big proponents of their decision, and the two rarely supported one another.
     I knew regardless of what I decided, I didn't want to be like that. I didn't want to judge another woman for her decision because these days I desperately try to live and let live. While I might have my feelings and opinions, I realize now that things are sooooooo much easier said than done and what works for some doesn't always work for others. I made the decision that I was going to breastfeed and if I hated it, or didn't have success with it, then I would simply switch to formula and call it a day.
     So the time came, I mentioned it in my last blog, and baby Maverick was born and he was ready to chow down. They brought him to me and like a moth to a flame, the kid honed in on the nipple (how could he miss it, the thing appeared to be the size of a helicopter landing pad-another benefit to pregnancy, your areolas get huge and dark-yay), latched no problem, and the process started. I was terrified about the chapped nipple stories I had heard so from the start I was diligent about applying the nipple cream, ALL THE NIPPLE CREAM. After coming home from the hospital and realizing how often babies actually eat, all the nipple cream in the world didn't prevent the soreness, but luckily my sister in law had trusted me with the great responsibility of watching her baby and I had learned all about nipple shields so I was armed and ready. The nipple shields helped A LOT! They soothed the cracks and discomfort, and Maverick seemed to have an easier time eating as well, win, win. I also believe it made his transition to the bottle that much easier too.
     Things were going well, baby was eating, I was producing, and after about a week I decided I should start pumping to build a supply and prepare myself for when it was time to go back to work. I invited another one of my sister in law's over and she literally taught me how to pump. She had just had her second baby 3 months earlier so she pretty much knew what she was doing. She also produced more breast milk than I have ever freaking seen so I thought if anyone could show me how to use this crazy looking breast pump machine, she could, and she did. I used the lowest possible setting, while she jacked hers up to full bore (I thought good God, how can she handle that), but now I know you just build a tolerance and get used to it. I remember feeling stoked that I had pumped just below two ounces, while she was over there pumping 8...from each boob...hello lady! And P.S. there is nothing cute about a breastpump, it makes your boobs look crazy, the entire process is comical.
     I kept up with it and started building my mini moo fridge of frozen breast milk. I thought, I got this, I'll have plenty of milk stored up, hell I could even go out on the town, have a few cocktails, and be fine to pump and dump...well....not so much. You see, I struggle with chronic migraines, an issue I have had since I was twelve, and bonus, they are hormone related, awesome, so you can imagine post baby, and insanely hormonal, my body was like wwhhhaattt....migraine time! I was lucky enough not to have a migraine the last two trimesters of my pregnancy, and a neurologist had once told me that many women who experience migraines pre baby often no longer get them post baby...he was wrong, and I despise him for putting that thought into my head. My migraines came back with a vengeance. I started getting them several times a week, smells triggered them, the lack of sleep triggered them, my crazy hormones were triggering them...I'm surprised breathing didn't trigger them. At first I did my best to avoid my medication since taking the medication meant 12 hours of no breastfeeding and 12 hours of pumping and dumping. When my mother came to visit it worked out for me not to take my medication because she took care of Maverick while I would lie down for as long as it took the migraine to go away (this sometimes wouldn't be until the next day). As a new mom, this was an absolute nightmare. The supply I had so proudly began building was gone in an instant.
     After my mom left, and with daddy back to work, it was just me and baby so when a migraine would come I had no choice but to take my medication so that I could take care of the baby, the house, myself....It broke my heart to take that medication, to pump and dump countless ounces of breast milk down the drain...anyone who has accidentally spilled their breast milk can almost understand what this is like. With my freezer supply just about gone, all the pumping and dumping, I had to start supplementing with formula. For this reason I am so thankful for formula because hello, the baby needs to eat, and if mommy can't give him the milk for 12 hours, and there's no more in the freezer, then this was how it had to be. Thank God my son to this day will pretty much eat anything, so whether it was breast milk or formula he could care less.
     I continued this crazy process for almost the entire first year of my son's life. In an effort to lessen the frequency of my migraines, I began acupuncture treatments. Unfortunately it did nothing for me, and the day after a treatment I would always get a migraine. It wasn't until a friend of mine introduced me to essential oils that I finally found some relief. I ordered Young Living Deep Relief and M-Grain essential oil, along with their premium starter kit complete with diffuser, and it changed my life. I still get migraines, but I started using the oils in place of the medication and my migraines were going away! No more pumping and dumping for 12 hours! All I had to do was use a combination of essential oils at the start of my migraine and I could safely breastfeed no problem! It was THRILLING! I was able to build up my freezer supply again and all was right with my world!
     So now here I am, at the end of my breastfeeding road. I stuck it out for the full year, through the trials and tribulations, I supplemented when necessary, I breastfed on an airplane (a highlight of travel), and I met my goal. I am so fortunate to have a healthy one year old, and good health doesn't have to come from breast milk, it comes from good mothering and LOVE. The girl who was kind of skeeved by breastfeeding, the girl who didn't think she would be into it, or do it, fell in love with it.
     I breastfed my baby for the last time on the morning of March 14, 2016, and in usual mommy Lauren fashion, I cried. I cried because I was going to miss it, tremendously miss it. I miss it now as I am sitting here with cabbage leaves and peppermint oil on my totally engorged boobies that will lose this amazing perkiness by the end of the weekend. I recalled that morning, about how tiny he was when he was born, and I laughed to think of how my boob was bigger than his newborn head, and then I looked down at his toddler body, long and stretched across my lap, and I cried some more, littered him with kisses, and got him dressed and ready for daycare.
     I was lucky to be able to breastfeed my son, and I realize that. Many women have a truly difficult time with breastfeeding because let's face it, we are not all created the same and breastfeeding can bring about several issues, or even be impossible for some women, and IT IS HARD ladies, it is a full time job to the full time job's full time job. You are no better or worse of a mom no matter what you chose to do, or what your body, lifestyle, and time will allow, and this is simply my story, and what worked for me. Now go and boob and bottle on....

https://similac.com/end-mommy-wars#video

Loving Your Stretch Marks

I never felt more insecure about my body than I did the day I saw those ugly, red stretch marks show up on my body. They were on the back of my legs, underneath both buttocks. They were on each side of my hips. And my breasts looked like a road map with each line representing a new street. I was petrified to see them. I cried like a little girl when I first saw them. "They will never go away" I thought. How could my man be attracted to my body with all its remaining cellulite, stretch marks, and veiny boobs? I could barely look at myself, let alone how could anyone else find me attractive underneath all my clothes? 

Swimsuit season will be arriving and they are still more present than ever.Those everyday reminders of my journey of pregnancy with Lincoln. I used to hate them, but I've grown to love and accept them. Instead of demeaning myself for the way my body morphed as I created a human being, I began to embrace my body. I am 3 months postpartum and slowly getting some shape back to my body. It feels good to have a firm abdomen and firm buttocks. But I realize it takes time to get there. It took 9 whole months to stretch my body to make enough room for little man. It's easy to get down on yourself for the way you look though. 

Loving myself has always been a challenge. I have so much more to offer the world and those in it aside from my looks, but I have let my image define my happiness so much. There are so many underlying reasons as to why I have struggled with loving myself deeply beyond the outer image I see in the mirror every day. But I was able to overcome my issues with self-love and body image and love my body for its stretch marks, veiny breasts and remaining cellulite. All I had to do was attach a meaning to them. Just like the tattoos that I purposely had embedded onto my skin to which they have their special meanings. But these tattoos (these stretch marks) were a gift! It was the cheapest tattoo I ever had to pay for; they were free! 

Those stretch marks reminded me of the moments where I had to slow down, rest often, eat well, and nurture my body because I had a human to grow inside of me. Those stretch marks will forever be a reminder of my little warrior that gave me a purpose in life. Those stretch marks were my bodies way of making room for Lincoln to grow to a healthy size inside of me. Those stretch marks are truly the only thing I have left of him still being a part of me after he entered this world to be on his own. 

It took me awhile to embrace my journey of pregnancy. Surprisingly, the bigger my belly grew, the more I fell in love with the journey. I knew the closest I'd ever be to my son was when he was nestled inside of me. That connection is so surreal. I wish for all women that desire to be mothers, that they get to experience that connection. And I wish for all mothers that have stretch marks to embrace their "tattoos" too. 

One day I will share these scars and this story with Lincoln. I will share with him how he gave me a tattoo of his love for life. I'm a lucky woman to have these stretch marks. Lincoln's daddy lets me know how much he loves and appreciates me for carrying his child. What more could I ask for? A man that embraces those marks more than I did myself, is a man that truly appreciates Gods miracle of life and the process of bringing life into the world. 

So those scars you have, learn to love them. They tell a story of your journey. They remind you of all the hard work you went through to bring life into the world. Children are God's way of telling us that he still believes in us. So those marks are another reminder that God believes in you. He entrusted you to carry his child and bring him/her into this world. What a gift. Embrace those "tattoos". You were especially chosen to have them.