Tucker Shay

Monday, September 10, 2007

Welcome to the Baby McMillen blog! If this is your first time visiting, please scroll down and read the blurbs with the pictures and then come back up here for more recent updates.

I had an appointment today with my doctor; just a routine obstetric check up. Hanky's heartbeat was 153 and my uterus is measuring one week ahead at 17 weeks (I will be 16 weeks tomorrow) so I have closed the gap by a week. Only two more weeks until we find out if Hanky has a hot dog or a cheeseburger!!!

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Our Struggle

I hesitated even mentioning this part but I really feel like it impacted our lives enough that not mentioning it would be doing a great disservice to our story. Think of this as kind of a sensitivity training, if you will. ; )

I will not go into massive amounts of detail because, to be honest, it really isn't all that interesting. However, I think it is important that our struggle be voiced because I want anyone who is going through the same heartbreak we experienced to know I am always here for support. I felt like I had noone to talk to who really, truly understood the struggle of infertility. Sure, I have friends who have had babies and some of them had to try for a few months, but none who had to endure months of embarrassing testing, medications, and procedures.

The threat of possibly not being able to have your own biological child is a pain I would not wish on anyone. Since I was young, I knew I was meant to be a mother. When people would ask what my biggest fear was, I always replied that it would be not being able to have children.

So, there I was, 28 years old, faced with my biggest fear and there being a real possibility that being a mother was not God's plan for my life. Add to that, the fact that we had been married over three years and we were starting to be badgered by well meaning friends and family about when we would be starting our family. I know hurt was not anyone's intention, but it does need to be known that not everyone advertises their life's struggle and one never knows another's peril. Comments made in jest cut me like a knife. I tried my best to laugh and smile, not wanting to draw attention to my pain but every time an insenstive comment was made, I felt like salt was being poured into my wound. Afterall, the problem was 100% mine and bearing the burden that I may never be able to give Ryan children was devastating for me.

Ryan and I had many serious conversations about how far we were willing to take the infertility treatments before we decided to live without having children. I felt it was important to decide the boundaries up front so emotions did not confuse us down the road. We came to the conclusion that we would go through with what we could afford until we reached the road of in-vitro fertilization. In-vitro fertilization can cost $10,000-$25,000 per try with no guarantee of success. That simply was not a feasible option for us and I am so thankful we never got to that point. Adoption is a wonderful thing, but it was not something that called to us. I can't really explain why, it just didn't feel like it "fit."

I was on a fertility medicine called Clomid. Clomid basically overstimulates your ovaries (too much information, I know, but it will become relevant in later posts) to produces more eggs. Basically, it gives the swimmers more targets to hit, haha. The side effects of Clomid: increased chance of mulitiples, hot flashes, weight gain, bloating, and most horrendous of all, extreme moodiness. We were in Hawaii with my parents on my second month of Clomid and let me put it this way, there were a few days I'm sure everyone wanted to drown me in the ocean or push me off of a cliff. Of course, our trying to conceive journey was a big secret so it's not like I could just explain the "why's" of my hatefulness.

They only let you try Clomid for three months because if it doesn't work in that timeframe, it probably is not the answer for you. My doctor, who is wonderful by the way, had mentioned that there was yet another test/procedure they could do called a hysterosalpingogram (yeah, typing it was hard enough, try saying it!). It is a radiograph test where dye is injected into your hoopajoo to make sure there are no blockages in the fallopian tubes. She had previously told me that sometimes there aren't any blockages per se, but it can kind of clean out any cobwebs, so to speak, and fertility can increase for up to three months afterward. I was about to start my third, and last, month on Clomid and at this point was ready to pull out all the stops. (The next step would have been intrauterine insemination which is a nicer way of saying artificial insemination. Romantic, huh?). Well, apparently cobwebs were my problem because I got pregnant days after the HSG. Figures...my house is full of dust and cobwebs, why wouldn't my reproductive organs be also?

Although it was a rough start and an emotional rollercoaster, I could not be more grateful for the impact it had on our marriage. Some marriages would not be able to thrive with such stress, but we drew closer together and we are more solid today than we have ever been, and I would say we have always been pretty darned solid. And that, my friends, is our beginning to this wonderful gift in our lives....

It was a Monday morning, the day after Father's Day and the day before Ryan's 29th birthday. I wasn't feeling any different but my temperature remained high when it should have been dropping (for those who do not know, a woman's temperature will elevate after ovulation and will stay high if she is pregnant and will drop back to normal after about two weeks if she is not). Ryan was at work and I sat and stared at the box of pregnancy tests I had purchased the day before "just in case."

I debated back and forth about taking the test. On one hand, I was sure I was not pregnant and the tests are not cheap and I hated to waste one, but on the other hand, wouldn't it be special to give Ryan the best birthday present ever if it did turn out to be positive? I didn't tell him I was testing because every month I was taking tests, every month they were negative, and every month he would give me his "you think you are pregnant every month" speech when I would give him an unsolicited rundown of "possible pregnancy symptoms."

I sat on the bed and decided to just take the test, see the negative sign and then emotionally prepare to do the intrauterine insemination the next month. So, I peed on the stick and was ready to promptly throw it in the trash, just sure it would be white as a ghost. Nope, not this time! It immediately turned pink and I sat there in disbelief for a minute, rubbing my eyes, making sure I wasn't seeing things. A wave of relief/disbelief/happiness/you name it washed over me and I just started bawling my eyes out. I was thanking God over and over and shaking like a leaf!

I immediately called my doctor with the good news and then called Ryan to see if he could meet for lunch that day. He wouldn't be able to meet and I had to teach that afternoon so I wasn't going to see him until evening, oh the torture!!! I was trying to think of a creative way to tell him. I was pretty much drawing a blank so I went to Hallmark and got a "Father-To-Be" card and wrote a heartfelt message inside.

At about 7:00, I couldn't contain my excitement any longer. I dismissed my last class early so I could rush home and give him his card. He had a terrible day at work so I offered to grab some dinner on the way. When I got home, he met me in the kitchen. I asked him if he wanted his birthday card a day early, I told him I found the perfect card for him and I couldn't wait until tomorrow.

He opened it and was reading the front, not quite digesting what he was reading yet. Then he looked up at me and said, "are you serious?" I was already crying and I just shook my head yes. It was perfect.

We had decided way before we got pregnant that when/if it did happen, we would wait 12 weeks to tell our families. With one of my medical conditions that was discovered during our treatments, I had a higher than average risk of miscarriage in the first trimester. We just didn't want to get everyone's hopes up and excitement high if the pregnancy wasn't viable. I guess you can call it being cautiously optimistic.

As someone who talks to her mother just about every day, keeping the secret was pure agony. My sister (Jill) knew and Ryan's brother and his wife (Justin & Andrea) knew but that was it. Andrea is a nursing student and works at the Wichita Clinic Immediate Care. She invited us to come out one day to try to hear the baby's heartbeat. She found it for us and we breathed a huge sigh of relief!

Our plan was to tell our parents at our third annual lake vacation to Beaver Lake the week of August 8th. Of course, I wanted to do something creative and clever but Ryan didn't want to do anything obnoxious so the key was finding a good balance. We decided on the iced sugar cookies in the picture above. We brought out the boxes of cookies, gathered everyone around a picnic table and then told them to dig in. As soon as those boxes flew open, we were bombarded with hugs and congratulations!

Gigantor Uterus

Our first big doctor's appointment was on August 13th, Ryan was able to come with me and we heard Hanky's heartbeat for the second time. It was 170 beats per minute.

Since I had taken Clomid (remember from the first post, that is the drug to stimulate the ovaries to release multiple eggs), we knew there was a small possibility of multiples, most likely twins. We had warmed up to the idea of having twins and were even secretly hoping for them. However, it was still quite a shock when Dr. Cobb announced that my uterus was much bigger than it should be for 12 weeks so she recommended an ultrasound to see just how many Hanky babies we were having. Would it be just a Hanky? A Hanky and a Panky? A Hanky, a Panky, and a Spanky?

Ryan was unable to make it to the ultrasound a couple days later because he got tied up at work. I called my mom to join me just so I didn't have to be alone for such a cool thing.

We learned that there is just one baby and he/she has quite a large head just like Ryan. Great, just what I wanted to hear! After some measurements, the computer came up with a due date of February 20th just from the size of the head! All other bones measured right on time for February 26th, so I'm sticking with that date. The baby also was supposed to weigh half an ounce at the time and was two ounces! I am going to give birth to a gargantuan, obese child; but maybe it will have a really big brain and be a plastic surgeon so I can be eternally beautamous! After speaking with some friends I learned that ultrasound measurements/estimates are notoriously inaccurate so I am feeling a lot better about things! : )

We also learned that my placenta is anterior which explains why my uterus is big and that is also why I am showing much earlier than most people for their first baby. Additionally, I have what is called a low-lying placenta, also known as placenta previa. It is very common in early pregnancy and will correct itself in 99% of cases. I just have some minor restrictions until our next sonogram when we find out if Hanky is a boy or a girl on September 24th!

That's not gas, it's Hanky kicking! Wait...kicking doesn't smell!

I felt Hanky move for the first time on August 20th, the last day of my first trimester and the start of week 13. It was definitely a feeling I had not had before. I was second guessing myself though because most first time mommies don't feel the baby for quite some time. I called my sister Jill (who is expecting her first in October) and she felt her baby at 14 weeks, so I decided that I was sure those feelings were indeed Hanky. I guess I'll chalk it up to the fact that I'm pretty in tune with my body and how it is feeling.

We were at a wedding that weekend and Hanky was dancing up a storm during the dance! I don't know if it was the punch, the music, or my dancing but he/she was definitely doing a jig too! By the way, Hanky dances just like Ryan....a bit spastic but very entertaining!

Tucker Shay

Monday, September 10, 2007

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That's not gas, it's Hanky kicking! Wait...kicking doesn't smell!