My Journey to Becoming a Mother

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My name is Liz and this is my story about my journey to be a mother.

I have always loved children, but I was never in a rush to have them based on a biological clock. I wanted to be in a healthy relationship with someone that could be good for me and for the children we would bring into the world. Apparently meeting Mr. Right can be a little challenging. I had almost lost hope when I met my husband.

I met my husband when I was 29. By the time we married I was 35. I wouldn't change anything, but getting older created factors that made it harder to get pregnant. When I was younger, I was pretty athletic but as I got older, I developed PCOS and a thyroid issue. Age + PCOS + thryroid issue = a tough journey to motherhood.

From the start, we attempted to get pregnant the good old fashion fun way of having lots of sex. Not the worst thing to endure... :) After a while of having no luck, I started to do all the things that I had found in research. Taking ovulation tests, tracking my cycle, eating a helpful diet, elevating my hips after intercourse. Sex became more of a chore and less of a spontaneous entanglement of bodies. It definitely will have an impact on your relationship.

At 37, I couldn't believe my eyes when I finally got a positive pregnancy test. We were beyond overjoyed and full of hope for the future. It had finally happened. I scheduled a doctor's appointment but over the weekend, I started to spot. It got worse and worse and the doctors moved up the appointment. When I sat up on the table, they confirmed my fear. I had lost this pregnancy that I had worked so hard to achieve. Hope was gone..... for now.

Despite the sadness the miscarriage brought, we went right back to trying. More time went by with no new pregnancy. With myself only getting older, we sought medical help so that we would not eat up any more time that we did not have. I found myself with an awful male doctor that barely made eye contact and treated me like I was being dramatic about my miscarriage saying "So you think that you had a miscarriage..." as he rolled his eyes. I had medical proof of it, and he could have gone about confirming my medical history in other ways, but he gave me no comfort to the trials I had already endured.

Luckily, he was useful enough to get me connected with people that could help. I started my process with CARRS (reproductive specialists). At first, I just ran preliminary tests and then I had to go all the way to Harford. From where I lived, it was an hour drive. I was so pained by having to drive all this way and how many times, but I was at the point that I would do anything. I drove all the way there. From the moment I arrived, all the staff was next level nice. My nurse, Chelsea, walked into my patient room to discuss the forms I had filled out and the test results that they had run. I had to bring up my miscarriage as we went over my medical history and she saw me tear up just a little bit. She put her hand on my shoulder to console me and gave me lovely words of upliftment. At this moment, I knew I was in good hands. Even after everything the nurses still followed up with me to see how my pregnancy was and I would email them sonograms and eventually pictures of my daughter that they helped me create. They went above what they were required and they really felt like they were invested into my journey. It was so uplifting having supportive, competent, and empathetic people in my corner. If you don't feel that you have that, switch it up.

Not too long after the process started, it was go time. My husband went and provided his sample and then I went. The process took the very first time! Everyone was amazed that my luck seemed to be turning. I got a positive pregnancy test the day before Thanksgiving and it was so hard not telling everyone. I didn't want to rush to telling everyone because it was so hard untelling people the first time. For months, after I lost the first pregnancy, people were congratulating me, which was painful when I had to explain that I no longer was.

As soon as I got the positive pregnancy test, they followed up with tests. They checked my levels and they were declining. I wonder if that was went wrong with the first pregnancy. Drops in progesterone, result in miscarriages. They gave me suppositories to be inserted into my vagina to help these levels stay where they needed to be. They continued to monitor levels and we were lucky that everything stayed viable. Curious if that's what went wrong the first time.

Even though, I was still holding onto the pregnancy, it was hard to get excited about all of it, because it felt like, it could still go wrong. I noticed this in my husband as well. People would ask me about my pregnancy and I think they sensed that I was holding back and they wondered if I wasn't happy. I was so happy, but sooo scared at the same time.

Much of my pregnancy went by pretty well. For seven months it wasn't that bad, and for that I am thankful. I didn't really have morning sickness. The worst of it, was not being able to cook meats without it smelling nauseating to me. Luckily my husband, was really great at hearing what I was having trouble with, and helping me.

When I was seven months along, the real struggle began. I already had sleep apnea but up until this point, I was still able to get a night's sleep. Now, with my sleep apnea combined with the pregnancy, I was not able to sleep and it felt like I could not breath most times. I found myself being narcoleptic during the day. A simple trip to the doctor, I would need to pull over midway for a snooze break. As the eighth month of pregnancy came, I didn't know how much more I could take. It was affecting my sleep to the point that I was seriously averaging an hour of sleep a night. And I would not make it up later. The thought of falling asleep became something I feared and the lack of sleep drove me to the point of insanity at times. I would get an intense feeling of fear as I tried to fall asleep. I could only fall asleep sitting up. My body got so swollen, I could not bend my legs. So much to the point that my husband built me a stool to be able to get into bed.

The doctors scheduled me for a c section and I looked forward to all of it being over. I went to Backcus Hospital in Norwich, CT. They were excellent. I thought I was ready. I thought I was tough. I remember the nurse asking me if I was okay, and I told her that I found myself feeling scared. I thought it would pass. They told my husband to wait outside the room while they prepped me for surgery. I remember coming through and feeling extreme fear. They tried to calm me down, but I kept asking for my husband and they brought him in earlier than they wanted. I felt claustafobic. My arms were strapped down and all I could move was my head. For some reason this really bothered me. The doctor was training someone and kept describing everything in great detail, which only added to my feeling of panic. I was able to stay somewhat calm for a little bit, but eventually I apparently tried to "hulk" out of my restraints, and they immediately sedated me all the way out.

Once they had pulled my daughter out, they let me come to again. They brought her over to me and I burst into tears. It was real. I thought she was going to look like my husband from the sonograms, but she actually came out looking like me. I remember looking at her and telling my husband that she looked like me and he agreed.

They finished up and got me back into my hospital room where I could recover. They make you fast (not eat) leading up to the c section so I was starving when the time came. Apparently, I was also having a bad reaction to the anesthesia, and was vomiting non stop. Eventually, the gave me a medicine that calmed that fun factor down and I was finally able to eat.

Leading up to, and especially right afterwards, I felt so much love for my husband. I thought I loved him a lot before all this but then, I got to see how supportive, helpful and empathetic he could really be. He really stepped up to be there for us. The way he would look at his daughter made me love him even more.

Post Pardom - So I'm not sure if my after affects are common, but I feel like it would fall under post pardom because it must have been impacted by my hormones. I had intense feeling of responsibility for this new life I brought into this world. I kept having vivid flashes of things going wrong. This was especially challenging because we lived all the way on the third floor. I was very paranoid about leaving the house with her because this could result in us both go crashing down the stairs. I was beyond swollen with the pregnancy and it did immediately start to improve once I had her, but there was a solid week where it was still hard for me to bend my legs; so my imagination didn't have to go too wild to imagine impending doom. An old house with narrow, winding stairs. It was probably a week and a half before I even tried. My body was still healing from the surgery and I had a great support system that made it possible. I knew my time of having my husband around to help was coming to an end, so I pushed myself to do walk throughs with situations that made me nervous. It was so touching to me that I was able to confide in my husband these fears that seemed to be somewhat irrational and be met with empathy. I started with just walking up and down with her in her car seat with him spotting me from behind in case anything went wrong. He was so calm and patient through all of it.

About three months later, I had to go back to the hospital to get my gal bladder removed which is apparently a common after math of pregnancy. The baby sits on your gal bladder causing it to tip upwards and the contents can not clear out, and they harden into stones.

Another thing that I didn't foresee coming out of all this, was that I got PTSD from being pregnant. The breathing issues I had impacted me even after all of it. When Covid hit, I found myself especially fearful that I would have breathing issues again.

Every person has a different journey through all of this. As traumatized as I was, I still feel that it was worth it. I love my daughter! If you are pregnant, you might not endure the same things, but I feel like it is important to share each story so others can be aware of what they might face and those that can related might find some level of empowerment and comfort from it.