A. W. Slack

In July, I shared that we would be stopping hormonal fertility treatment due to the development of ovarian cysts from the Clomid medications. (Missed this update? Find it HERE.) I had a difficult time finding closure with the decision to end this first step into fertility treatment. There were a lot of negative daily emotions — disappointment, loss, ineptitude, guilt, fear. Not only did I feel a sense of failure at being a woman and a wife, but I cowered at the potential unknown of our future.

Thank God for Grant. He was my rock throughout those few weeks. He held me during those moments when the emotion came to physical tears and told me that we’d weather the future, no matter what that entailed. And as I came to terms with the decision to stop the hormonal treatment — and the added hormonal dosage left my body — I started to consider other ways we could grow our family.

Working at my nonprofit allows me frequent correspondence with representatives of the Michigan Department of Health and Human Services (MDHHS). So I personally know a few program managers over foster care in my local area. I hear often the critical need for loving foster parents and open, welcoming homes. After some discussion and a lot of prayer, G and I decided we would like to sit down and hear more about the process to become foster parents.

During the week of August 15th, we scheduled a meeting with a fostering specialist. We were excited to learn more, but also nervous. I was so nervous that my stomach seemed to be doing backflips. And front flips. And cartwheels. Actually, my stomach was on a rollercoaster the entire weekend prior to our meeting…

It was not until I spent three hours of Sunday morning on the floor of our bathroom that it dawned on me — this nausea was more than nerves. I had felt nausea like this a few times before. So I pulled myself off the ground, grabbed the last pregnancy stick from the linen closet, and took the test.

I waited.

30 seconds passed. Then a minute. Then two minutes.

There was an unsettling fear between either result. A negative would be another disappointment and could possibly throw me down a few steps from the lows I’d been feeling over the past month. A positive would bring a million other worries though — number one being keeping this pregnancy.

I remember holding my breath as I finally turned my eyes to the test.

Positive.

At that moment, each worry that could have struck me was blocked. I’ve seen that plus sign before, but this time was different: I had learned so much during my few months of working with my obstetrician. I had an idea as to why my previous pregnancies had failed and how to better our odds this time. So as I rushed to our bedroom and a sleeping husband, all I felt was pure joy.

I was sitting in my OB’s office by Monday afternoon. Bloodwork was done to verify the viability of the pregnancy and ensure my hCG hormone levels were increasing. My progesterone was also checked. Within a few days, the pregnancy was confirmed to be viable and I was given a progesterone prescription to better our odds of carrying the fetus to second trimester.

The next several weeks were a whirlwind. I flew to New York City for a work convention at Week 7 and was sick from nausea and food aversions the entire trip. We decided to share the news with our immediate family members and closest friends at Week 8. It was incredibly humbling to have our loved ones pray over us and this little miracle. At Week 9 I awoke in the middle of the night to bleeding. That was a rough day — I was an absolute mess and Grant had to drive me to the OB for another viability examination. It was concluded that the bleeding was an abnormality, but not cause for concern. The little fetus had a strong heartbeat and was still growing healthily inside me.

Though it felt the first two months of the pregnancy were spent holding our news at arms-length, Grant’s and my joy grew with each passing week. Apart from those closest who shared our excitement, we kept the secret of our growing family inward and weathered the highs and lows as a team. I had not carried past eight weeks in any of my previous pregnancies, so when we neared the third month, it became harder to hide our news.

It happened that Week 12 fell on my 31st birthday. So we decided to share our exciting gift via social media:

Thank you so much for the meaningful messages and conversations throughout the day today. This past year was a whirlwind of an introduction to my thirties, but 31 is looking to be the best year yet…

12 weeks ago we were blessed with the greatest gift: Grant and I are over the moon to share the news that our little one is planning to enter the world in April.

While we are celebrating right now, our hearts extend to anyone who is struggling with infertility or loss. It was not a straight line to our pregnancy and we understand that pain all too well. Sending you extra love today and always.

Today marks the beginning of Week 14, and Baby Slack and I are doing well. He or she has consistently met all measurements and viability exams. We had genetics testing performed and received low risk results. Now we wait for Week 20 to arrive to find out the gender. But until then, you already know I’ll be busy planning a baby shower, designing a nursery, and doing “all the mom-to-be things.”

I could not feel more excited for the new year and the challenges motherhood will bring. God is so, so good!

Oh! G and I still have the hearts for fostering in the future. I spoke with the specialist we were meant to meet with and explained the unexpected pregnancy, but asked to remain in contact to talk more once things settle down and we learn some parenting skills from Baby #1.

And for those still waiting…

Though we suffered multiple losses and unsuccessful fertility treatments, I acknowledge that it did not take a lot of time for Grant and I to conceive successfully. Once I was directed to an OB and began narrowing down the causes of our loss, it took little time to identify what was wrong and start corrective action. No, I was not on Clomid when we conceived. Yes, we conceived naturally. But I am fully aware that had I not started working with my doctor to balance my post-menopausal hormone levels that carrying this baby to Week 14 would not be possible.

With that said, if you are currently suffering from loss or struggling with infertility, I encourage you to reach out to someone you trust and ask questions. I did not know better for so many years and I kept those negative feelings following my losses bottled up inside. It was not until my good friend recommended me going to a specialist that I learned more about my situation. Though every situation will not have the same results as me, I know I would not be where I am today if I had not received that encouragement.

You are not alone in your feelings, my friend. I am here as well if you ever just need to talk.

Much love to you.