Baby Stuff

Hubby wants to go shopping for baby stuff. We need everything but a carseat because I got rid of everything. I got rid of everything because I was never going to do fertility treatments and get my heart broken ever again so there was no need for baby stuff in my house. OBVIOUSLY I wasn't really going to get pregnant from having sex. I thought it would be fun to try, but never for one real minute did I think it would happen.

Pregnancy is a horrifying, scary time for me. I love feeling baby move but that's it. I was, well, am, part of the infertility community and horrible things happen all the time. Second trimester losses, third trimester losses, life threatening disabilities, still births, you name it. I have been extremely fortunate to not have these things happen to me but watching women that were my best source of support through my worst times go through such awful things leaves a lasting impression. I went to one baby funeral. It was awful and I will never forget it. Have you ever seen a coffin the size of a shoe box? If you haven't, I hope you don't. Part of the reason that I hate being around pregnant women is that they are very annoying and self centered, the other reason is it gives me anxiety about what is going to happen to that person.

Infertility treatments broke my soul. All of them but one, which ended in the twins. After the FET failed I immediately thought just like I did before the twins were conceived, "I'll get back up, I'll keep going, I will not stop until I have everything I ever dreamed of." But I took some time and did some hard soul searching. I ran. I cuddled the monkey's. I read. I had lots of talks with Hubby. I got the support I needed from my other infertile friends. I was out running one day. Music was blaring in my ears. The sun was shining. My body felt great. I was thinking of the twins and how funny, smart, adorable and perfect they are and thinking about Hubby. I knew that it would be the best if I gave up on treatments. Instead of saving up and spending money on shots in my stomach and ass for a CHANCE, not a guarantee, that we might have one more baby, we could save money for things everyone else saves for. Fun things, not hard, sad things. Vacations. Cars. A bigger house. With no more kids coming in we could see an end to our daycare paying days (which hurts us badly now). We could just enjoy. Relax. Soak it all in. The first day of the rest of our lives.

I felt great. When I saw the two pink lines on my cheap internet pregnancy tests, I cried. Not tears of joy. Tears of fear. I called my mom scared to death. I went to my infertile friend and cried more. I don't get things easily. Ever. I have to work. I can't just enjoy life and then get pregnant, for FREE. That isn't my life and I came to terms with it. I was not just okay, but good. I know life is full of shitty things that happen no matter what you do, but one thing that wasn't going to be on my plate ever again was going through hell for pregnancy and then worrying about miscarriage and all the other bad things that could happen.

I've been to so many appointments and baby is growing big and strong. I am almost in the third trimester. THE HOME STRETCH. But this is the problem: many moons ago the doctor's told me I would have no trouble getting pregnant. Then they said I had PCOS but I was still very healthy so it wouldn't be a big deal. Then I ended up doing IUI's and IVF and all that crap. Then the FET happened and it sucked huge balls. Then I had surgery and they said to get on birth control because I would not get pregnant on my own and maybe less likely than last time to get pregnant with IVF. Then I got pregnant on my own. So you might be able to see why when I go to appointments and they tell me baby is perfect and beautiful it is really, really difficult for me to believe them. They say that today, but what about tomorrow?

Hubby told me yesterday that we need to start getting things in order for the baby. In less than three months, baby will be here, in our house! Poor baby doesn't even have one outfit. Or a bed. Or bottles. I just stared at him like an idiot and I'm sure he thinks I'm crazy. I cried looking at newborn sized diapers in Target the other night. I'm being a basketcase. I told myself after the first trimester that this would be great and I would soak up every minute. I can't believe that here I am, almost done, so fortunate to get the chance to do this again and without the hell of treatments, and still I am paralyzed with fear that if I enjoy it, it will disappear. I feel so sad and guilty for this little baby, the twins had pretty much everything they needed at this point.

I was at Sam's last week. I looked at a huge box of diapers and looked for some storage things to reorganize before baby gets here. As I was walking out, you have to show your receipt to someone so they can check your cart. The man showing his receipt said "come on, I thought it was free day at Sam's where you can get everything for free" jokingly. The lady at the door said "nothing is free in this world honey." It was like the Universe had to somehow remind me of that.

Let's all cross our fingers that this baby doesn't come home buck naked in winter because the thought of going to Babies R Us makes me hyperventilate (if we can even get home, we don't have a car that can legally transport all of us, yikes). I think Hubby and I have decided that an elective ultrasound is maybe what I need, then I can buy a freaking bed for God's sake.

I'm wasting this time and this experience being afraid. I'm going to snap out of it! My goal is to get one thing done for this baby by the end of the week. Friday, September 28th, Baby 3 will have a place in our home and something of his or her own.