percival | It's a Baby!

It's official - I'm twelve weeks pregnant with our first baby, and both my husband and I are overjoyed. We saw the little one on ultrasound today, and she was very active, bouncing, sucking her thumb, and wriggling about.

That's just as well, because there's a slight complication: The number of my fibroids has gone up from one big ones to two big ones. The right hand side fibroid is roughly 3 inches in diameter, the left hand side one two. I'm planning to be extra careful with my diet. Given that some of you might be interested in reading about an anti-fibroid diet, I'll post the list of changes I'll make from home. Because of the fibroids, my bump is as big as that of a woman who's 5 months gone, and I've officially switched to maternity clothes now. Yesterday, I ritually chucked all the clothes that didn't fit my style anymore, and ended up with just a small trolley full of "clothes to keep". You see, a lot of my gear is 5-15 years old, and looks dated now.

Because of the big fibroid on the right, my bump is a funny shape: it's a bulge on the left hand side of my body. That shape worried my GP enough to send me in for an emergency scan at 8 weeks, which revealed first pictures of a very healthy baby.

I admit that after the first scan, I relaxed into the pregnancy. I was a bit careless with my eating and my consumption of sweets and non-organic milk. That will have to stop now, though. I'll post the new eating plan that I will HAVE to stick to this evening; I know that at least one of you might be interested in it. (and no, I'm NOT cutting out WHEAT!!!!)

For those of you who think that I'm a classic case of "just relax and you'll get pregnant", I'd like you to know that you're wrong. I got pregnant in the month that we made the difficult decision to adopt, when I was grieving the child I might never have. Repeat after me: I was NOT RELAXED. I was angry, fuming, ready to carpet-bomb Edinburgh Royal Infirmary and its pathetic Fertility Disservices. I had just begun to come to terms with my infertility. I was actually howling with grief shortly after the baby was conceived, telling my Shiatsu therapist how I would never, ever get pregnant and give birth.

Then what did it, if not the old chestnut "just relax" or "adopt and you'll fall pregnant", which makes my blood BOIL everytime it's dished out to an unfortunate subfertile woman? I've heard it so often by now from so many people that I should be immune to it by now, but I'm not.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO HAVE TO COME TO TERMS WITH THE FACT THAT YOU MIGHT NEVER BE ABLE TO GIVE BIRTH? DO YOU KNOW JUST HOW MUCH THAT HURTS IF YOU REALLY, REALLY WANT CHILDREN?
This is what people have to do to "just relax" into their infertility. I had a taste of that feeling, and believe me, it's not something I want to experience ever again.

I assume that several factors contributed to my pregnancy.

long-term treatment, both using Shiatsu and herbal medicine, of subtle hormone imbalances. I had treatment for a year and 6-7 months respectively before conceiving, and my persistence has paid off.
exploring my relationship with my parents, especially hidden assumptions about having children and patterns of coping with life that I don't want to pass on to my children
exploring my reasons for wanting to have children. I had to make sure that I wanted kids because I wanted to bring new life into this world, not to have somebody to look after me or love me or keep me company.
re-evaluating the place of work in the grand scheme of things. Remember that in late September, I'd been badly let down by both the Newcastle people and lost the one job I was really keen for. Once I was over the shock, I decided work wasn't that important for me. Now, I'm quite happy to settle into 6 months maternity leave followed by a part-time (60-80%) return to work
and, last but not least, statistics. Let me explain: if you are subfertile, but not infertile, your chances of getting pregnant each month may be small. But as the months add up to years, your cumulative chance of finally striking lucky gets higher and higher. I.e., the longer you wait, the more likely you are to have a baby in the end. Women with endometriosis are often counselled to adopt this strategy: start trying for a baby as soon as possible, but factor in a 1-3 year wait for success. It's called expectant management, and believe me, the NHS just LOVES it.

I believe that the increased cumulative chance of falling pregnant is the mechanism behind the oft-cited phenomenon of adoptive parents having children of their own. This is actually not as common as you may think: it happens to 10% of subfertile adoptive parents. Now, why is telling somebody who's about to adopt that this increases their chances of pregnancy a bad idea? In- or subfertile adoptive parents who adopt have done a lot of work coming to terms with their fertility problems. They've been through the agonising cycle of hope and despair just so, so many times, and they've decided to break free of that cycle. If you treat adoption as a fertility booster, you're putting that couple right back on the painful rollercoaster of monthly shattered hopes. Especially if you don't know why the couple is considering adoption: a woman with very few or no eggs or completely blocked tubes and a man with next to no sperm might just not be physically capable of having a child. But are they going to tell you these painful news when you've just shown that you're just as insensitive as the next punter? I don't think so.

I'm now of course hoping for the delivery of a healthy baby. Meanwhile, I'm taking one day at a time, but our chances of a living, bouncy baby are fortunately high.

Somebody pinch me?