In the family way...

(...that's the weirdest way I think you can put it.)

Ok. So. Yes. I'm pregnant. It's weird, it's exciting, it sometimes sucks, it's a miracle, it's scary. I am extremely grateful to get to this point, and for the most part, thinking about the little human inside of me makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, but honestly, I'm also conflicted.

See, along with dealing with nausea and constipation (fun!) and not fitting into pants, as well as all the normal pregnancy fears and anxieties, I've got an added layer. This fall, I had a miscarriage. Caleb and I had been trying to get pregnant since June (whole-heartedly trying since July), and we got pregnant in September. But I didn't make it to 5 weeks before losing the baby. I can now look back and say "at least it was early," meaning it didn't do any damage to my body so we were able to immediately start trying again, but it set me back emotionally quite a bit.

Along with the disappointment, sadness, and grief of losing the promise of something that could have been our child, I became depressed and withdrawn, overcome with feelings of hopelessness, severe anxiety, and the inability to tap into any positive emotions. As a defense mechanism, I made myself numb, which protected me [somewhat] from the sadness and grief, but also made humor, happiness, hope, excitement, and other good feelings inaccessible to me.

At the encouragement of a wonderful friend, who kindly reminded me that I didn't want to feel guarded and angry all the time, and that sometimes you need help to get past crises in your life, I sought help. In therapy I was able to identify my tendencies to set unrealistic expectations for myself, and if things don't turn out exactly how I plan, I lose faith in my own abilities and that I can trust that anything will turn out ok again (this had happened previously in regard to my marathon, master's thesis, and injuring my back, but not to the extent of the miscarriage). I also uncovered underlying distrust in others and an intense reliance on myself in my life, so when I can't obtain my goals by hard work and perseverance, I become lost and hopeless.

After time, multiple sessions with my therapist, open conversations with Caleb and other loved ones, I started to heal. We did not get pregnant the first cycle after the miscarriage, and although I felt disappointed and hopeless at the time, looking back, I'm glad I had a little extra time to heal before jumping into pregnancy. (And lucky me, I had more time than others, with 50+ day long cycles.) We did get pregnant the second cycle after the miscarriage, in early December.

While being pregnant was what I wanted, it initially terrified me. I couldn't trust that it was real - I couldn't let my guard down and be happy to see the two pink lines, lest I fail again. It took me weeks for it to start feeling real, and longer to start gaining confidence that it could happen, that it could be ok. I did have a panic attack at six weeks when I woke up and didn't "feel pregnant," convinced that it was over and I'd start bleeding again soon. But some blood tests and an ultrasound later, and we were still in business.

I'm now at 12 weeks, 5 days. We've heard the heartbeat multiple times and earlier this week, we saw baby with an ultrasound, where it actually looked like a tiny human! And it was wiggling and moving all over the place (baby apparently likes coffee). We've posted our announcement on Facebook and everyone at work knows, and I'm now proudly wearing clothes that show off my little bump.

Most of the time, I feel ok. (I've actually been fairly sick the last few weeks, so that has been a distraction from some anxiety I was feeling before.) I still have moments of panic, and can go to the bad place inside my head where I play out the worst scenarios and doubt my body's ability to protect and carry my child. But those moments pass, and I also now have some coping mechanisms to calm me down and get me in a better headspace.

I'll end on a high note and leave this picture of Baby Carroll. We've got a long way to go together, but I feel good about saying we'll get to meet you in around six months and watch you grow up. Just bear with me along the way.