What a difference a year makes

Why is it that I tell someone I haven't had a certain symptom, then I get it either that night or the next day??! That's confidence for ya. I remember back in Week 5, my nausea went away for 2 weeks. I told everyone how it was already gone then boom- 12 more weeks of it.  Same goes for heartburn and swollen feet. No sign of it then it appears as soon as I tell someone I'm lucky and haven't experienced it. 

This weekend, Nate was an usher in an old friend's wedding. During the 6 hour drive back to Nashville  yesterday (that was fun with Baby A doing headstands on my bladder), we marveled at how non-emotional I've been. Aren't pregnant women supposed to cry all the time? So this morning, of course I burst into tears at how tight one of my maternity shirts was. Nate had to calm me down as I insisted that I was a huge Buddha and nothing fits. It didn't help that I read about a triplet woman who was 4 feet around by the time she gave birth. I'm big and going to continue to get much bigger. I pray that I can make it to mid-March and continue to grow these babies, but man, it takes a toll.

During work today, I quickly got over the pity party and thought about where I was emotionally last year at this time. I was at rock bottom with little hope. I tried to think every month would bring a miracle only to have that hope dashed. I thought surely by Christmas 2009 I'd be pregnant. It would be a year and a half! That was plenty of suffering. I felt so inadequate after seeing Christmas card after Christmas card feature new babies with their smiling parents. I went to holiday celebrations with a huge feeling of emptiness. I looked for excuses to be away from the kids. Keeping up the facade of being happy when you are very unhappy becomes exhausting.  I felt like I couldn't show anyone how upset I was.  Then there was the guilt of having so much to be thankful for and feeling ungrateful despite these blessings.  I knew that we would be parents one way or the other, but it seemed too far away for any sense of comfort.

This Christmas, I'll remember the 26 months of disappointment, panic attacks in doctor's waiting rooms, 100+ injections, throwing up from anesthesia on Nate's car door (oh yes, that was wonderful), desperate prayers, and ups and downs that got us here. I can't walk without sounding like a dragon, I snore, I'm about to hit the "tipping 200" club, I'm dealing with constant annoying and personal questions from strangers, and have dozens of other discomforts I won't bore you with. But I am beyond thankful to be where I am.  You learn so much from suffering.