Confessions of a Pregnant Blogger

Wanna know why this blog has been so infrequent and lackluster lately?

It’s because I am a horrible liar. Always have been.

The truth is, I am 14 weeks pregnant!

I didn’t feel comfortable sharing the news until we heard a heartbeat (which we did on Wednesday: amazing!), hence the slew of random, totally-non-fertility-related blog posts. It definitely felt weird not to share it with you guys right away, since I’ve shared every step with you up until this point.

But holy crap, can you believe it? I kind of still can’t. Every day I am amazed that I got this lucky. Everything I’ve been wishing and praying for: granted. I feel elated and blessed and terrified all at once.

Since I posted about my last visit with the doctor, you’re probably wondering how the pregnancy happened and if I went the fertility treatment route. The crazy thing is, when I wrote that post, I was actually pregnant but didn’t know it yet. In an amazing turn of events, I never had to make a decision about whether or not to try fertility treatments. The decision was made for me by the tiny baby I am now carrying. I am still in disbelief that it turned out this way. And I am grateful every single day.

Thank you all so much for your support on my babymaking journey. I appreciate it more than I could ever say. Seriously, you guys are awesome. I hope you will stick with me on the next phase of my story.

And if you are still in the babymaking trenches, please know that I understand if you want to step away from this blog for a while. But also please know that I am thinking about you and caring for you and hurting with you and most of all, hoping for you. Fervently. Even if you stop reading, I will not stop praying for you and fighting for you.

How am I feeling? Physically, much better. I had some decent bouts of nausea for a while there, but they seem to be subsiding. How am I feeling mentally? Well, that’s a different story. You all know I struggle with anxiety, so this pregnancy has been one of my biggest challenges yet. I am trying hard to appreciate each day and not worry about the future and all of the things that could go wrong. But let me tell you, it has been a struggle. I often find myself thinking, “How could this wonderful thing possibly be real? How can it last?”

So as a big eff-you to anxiety, I’d like to end this post with a quote from my favorite movie of all time, Willy Wonka and the chocolate factory:

Willy Wonka: “Charlie, don’t forget what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he always wanted.”

Charlie: “What happened?”

Willy Wonka: “He lived happily ever after.”

Seeing Green


I try to be super positive on this blog. I want this space to be about health and hope. But I also want to be honest. And if I’m being honest right now, I’d say that I’m having a crappy day. So this is where I’ll issue a warning: if you don’t want to read a Debbie Downer post, halt!

I’ve always been an envious person. Of all the seven deadly sins, I’ve got that one on lock. I am not at all proud of it, but there it is: my biggest fault. Now that I’m so keen to have a baby, and it hasn’t happened for me right away, I’ve been trying hard to keep this bad tendency in check. I mean, there’s always going to be someone I know who’s pregnant. And there’s always going to be someone I know who got pregnant in the first month of trying. I could drive myself straight into the nuthouse if I let myself be envious of every pregnant woman in the universe. Usually, I do a good job of containing these feelings. I am, after all, truly happy for the women I know who are having babies. And I do believe that it will happen for me too at some point.

But today, I don’t know. Blah.

A few people I’m acquainted with, in the blog world and otherwise, have had babies in the last few days. Baby extravaganza! And as I’m sharing in their excitement, I’m listening carefully to what they’re saying. Sometimes they say things like “I didn’t really know love until I held my child,” or something along those lines. A cliché, yes, but all clichés are rooted in some truth. And while I do not begrudge these new mothers their joy, I can’t help but feel envious of it. The green-eyed monster is like, oh, hello.

And if it’s at all true that one does not really know love until they’ve held their child, then where does that leave me? And where does that leave the women who can’t have children? While I’m sure none of us are loveless, are we missing out on some elemental part of life?

It’s these thoughts, my friends, that are bringing me down.