Tag Archives: musings

Two blue lines

Hi everyone!

So yesterday I alluded to exciting news. Well, let’s not beat around the bush. I’ll just lay it on you, and lay it on straight:

I’m pregnant! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!

Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh.

I’ve been waiting soooo patiently to tell you, and now that I can finally spill the beans it’s such a relief. It’s been hard sitting on this news, and I feel like I’ve just been holding my breath in. Exhaling feels . . . amazing.

WARNING: If you don’t want to hear talk about periods and bodies and birth control and the like (ehem, gentlemen), you can just mutter ‘congratulations,’ look a little awkwardly at your left toe, and close your browser window. I’m not getting too graphic here, no worries there (though the words “period,” “cycle” and “blood” will appear repeatedly), but since I love hearing the details of pregnancy stories, I want to share the details with you guys and gals too! Plus, I gleaned so much from women who were willing to be open about their stories that I want to pay it forward to anyone else out there who may be wondering about . . . stuff. Right.

Anyway.

We decided last year that in September of 2011 we would start the “baby process.” In preparation for this, I stopped taking the pill in June 2011 and we used natural family planning during the summer. I’m so glad that the Spirit honed my instincts to make this decision, because it took my body 3 months to get a period again. Can you believe it? I mean, I was on the pill for 6 years, but I wasn’t expecting not to actually get a period until the end of September. Thankfully, September was the month in which we had decided to initiate Plan Babytastic. In other words, start trying.

“We’re trying.” Those words are so intense. When you’ve finally come to realize you want a baby, entering the “we’re trying” phase–even if you only say those words to yourself in your own mind–opens up a big old emotional . . . thing. Suddenly, you start a mental calendar. You start tracking how long you’ve been trying, and looking ahead to when you think the “we’re trying” might become “I’m pregnant.” Those words “we’re trying” hold the past, present, and future in tension with each other, saying clearly to yourself and to everyone “we’re ready to leave our old life behind and start a new chapter,” and more than that, “we are daring to hope.”

In an effort to keep his heart free from the anxiety that the hefty, weighty “we’re trying” can bring, my husband (and this is just my opinion–though who can fathom the mysteries of the masculine brain?) referred to the process not as “trying,” but as “seeing what happens.” His approach sounded almost like a casual flinging of the odds to the winds by a carefree spirit who wasn’t worried about the cycle of fertility, and definitely could have a baby if things panned out, but would be fine with whatever, really. I’m so happy he took this attitude. I encouraged this, because I didn’t want to make this a time of anxiety for him, or for us as a couple. But . . .

. . . in my little arrangement, I was counting days. There was no ‘casual flinging of the odds’ or losing track of the fertility cycle. Oh man was I counting days. I was counting days and making moves and making moves and counting days. Yup.

I tried to prepare my soul for this process. I coached myself on a regular basis saying, “It takes some people years and years to get pregnant. In the end, it might turn out that one of us is infertile. And there’s always the possibility of miscarriage. Just chill Jenna–just chill. Anything can happen.”

I didn’t dwell on these scarier realities for long or get myself down imagining the worst-case scenarios in high resolution detail (believe me, I know what it’s like to walk in fear, with the discouragement, dragging, and dreadfulness of it–that wasn’t what I was doing), but I wanted to make sure my heart didn’t leap ahead of reality, expecting to get pregnant immediately and for everything to go smoothly. I’ve had too many friends go through the pain of miscarriage for me to go into this assuming that nothing bad could happen to me.

Throughout everything, I tried to look at reality, recognize the possibilities, and then turn to God and say, “You are good. I trust you.” And move on.

Overall, I didn’t feel obsessed. I felt good, ready for anything. Trusting. Until my period came due every month. . . and then I would take a pregnancy test. Or two. They would be negative. I’d wait a few more days, and when that first blood inevitably showed up, my heart would sink. For a split second I would feel a rush of emotion and sadness, almost like an adrenaline wave–and then I would move on and start counting days again. Trying to look forward, not back.

When I heard other women announcing they were pregnant, in person or on facebook or by email, I had to make a conscious decision not to go down a certain path–the “what about me, God?” path. The “why does she get that blessing when I’m still waiting?” I could either let myself embark on a path of jealousy, dissatisfaction and whining, or genuine joy and thankfulness for their good news. With the help of God I chose the path of joy each time (and not thanks to my own strength–I know myself too well to claim that!), but I was always aware of the temptation to do otherwise, lingering on the sidelines. It wasn’t too hard yet, but I could see how every month was going to get a little more challenging as we waited.

Then, January happened. My cycle started on January 4th. I counted days, made moves, prayed for trust, tried to chill out, and generally succeeded in staying calm, living life, not thinking too hard about it. And then day 32 arrived. This was totally normal, since my cycles since September had consistently been 35 days. But I was getting impatient to know, so I took a pregnancy test anyway. It was negative, but . . . was that a tiny, faint, tiny, almost invisible line?? I bought another packet the next day and took another test. Clearly negative.

Oh well.

When day 35 came, I held my breath every time I went to the bathroom. Was my period going to start? Would I be able to quickly step through the disappointment and out the other side?

Then day 36, 37. Still no blood, but I told myself that meant nothing–just that when my period did finally start it would be a little harder to take. I examined myself for symptoms, but I really had none. I mean, my dreams were really vivid (something Heidi has experienced), but they’re always pretty dang vivid.

I told myself I was completely out of control with my heavy pregnancy test usage, and decided to wait until Valentine’s Day to take another. But on Monday February 13th (day 41) I just couldn’t wait any longer. I took one, and as the colors washed into the little circle and the little oval, a line started to appear quite quickly–then two lines.

I was pregnant.

My heart was racing. I got a rush of joy.

. . . to be continued tomorrow . . .

Juice in the morning, sailor take warning

Recently I’ve renewed my commitment to juicing. And we’re not talking drugs here, people–we’re talking vegetables. (I was only recently informed that juicing can also be a term for imbibing steroids. Or does one inject those things? Anyway.)

Why this fresh zest for juicing? (heh heh–forgive the pun–couldn’t resist) Well, in part because I heard my friend Traci’s inspiring story again about how juicing sent her rheumatoid arthritis into remission, and in part because my friend Sarah decided to do a juice cleanse. And did it. And it was awesome (more on that soon!).

There’s nothing like the honest testimony of a trusted girlfriend to get me in motion. With all this motivation, I really wanted to make juicing part of our routine–so I did. And I’m in week 5 now, going steady, holding the course. In case you’re interested in having some tasty, energizing, veggie juice for breakfast to get your day started out right, here’s how I do it:

1) On Sunday when we grocery shop for the week, I purchase a big bag of veggies, to wit:

-5 lbs carrots
-5 cucumbers
-A large, large knobbly knob of ginger
-The biggest bag of spinach I can locate
-1 bunch of celery

And I should clarify, this is just for me (though I do pour a small glass for my husband). I can hardly believe I go through all that in a week’s time considering it’s just my breakfast, but that’s the miracle of juicing, friends.

2) As soon as I get home from the grocery store, all the veggies destined for liquification get washed, prepped, and put into ziplocs for the week. That way, when I wake up and get my sleepy butt into the kitchen, everything is ready. There’s no horsing around with a knife needed, which is great since all my faculties are not yet present.

I also get pre-washed spinach, which saves a good amount of time.

3) Before going to bed (and while my husband sets the coffee maker), I assemble the juicer and put it on the counter so that it’s ready to go.

I figure any extra fussing about in the morning should be avoided, because that could just be used as an excuse to choose the lazy way out. I need to leave everything set up for myself so that practically no effort in the morning is required.

4) Final trick: lining the juicer’s ‘waste’ bin with a trash bag so that all the vegetable refuse can simply be gathered up and tossed.

Saves some washing time! Straight into the trash with you.

5) In the morning, make the juice! I use a big handful of spinach to start . . .

. . .  followed by a thumbsized piece of ginger, a whole cucumber . . .

. . . a couple stalks of celery, and 6-8 carrots.

With the pre-washed and pre-cut veggies, it’s easy to pop them into the juicer and cococt a greeney-orangey beverage that will start my day on the right foot and load up my body with micronutrients.

And I have to say, I’m not hungry in the least after that big glass of juice. It fills me up, but doesn’t give that bloated feeling that bread products sometimes bring. And I think it tastes great! (the more carrots the better it seems to taste–there’s nothing like that sweet, earthy flavor)

It even takes away almost all of my urge for coffee. I usually sip at a coffee while doing my morning devotional right afterwards (it’s a habit that’s hard to break–a hot beverage is so perfect for helping me enter a contemplative state), but I usually only get halfway through the mug, and have no desire for coffee again until the following morning.

How about you–does that picture of green juice make you salivate, or make your stomach churn and turn?

Tomorrow, my friend Sarah will be guest posting here about her February juice cleanse. Just reading about her experience makes me want to do one too. Come back on by and read about her experience tomorrow morning!