Best Laid Plans

Its funny. I was just sitting here taking a break from a late night writing session and my mind just sort of wandered to what I was doing this time last year. I was probably sleeping or writing downstairs or in Killeen with The Ash, all the while completely unaware of the fact that I had just conceived Nyx.

That cycle I had completely given up. I'd been charting something fierce but had no signs of ovulation. No temp changes. No cervical fluid changes. I was still high, tight and closed. I hadn't taken Clomid or Femara or Follistim or Gonal-F or Menopur injections or an HcG trigger. I was fairly certain December was just as unlucky as November, etc. Fortunately we deal with stress in one way: red hot marital relations.

It would take 11 weeks before I would realize that I was pregnant. During that time, Dave and I had chosen our adoption agency. We were filling out forms and trying to figure out where the hell we would get the twenty or so thousand dollars to adopt an infant. Christmas was particularly bleak for me. I sat there, surrounded by Christmas decorations, and cried. I had worked so hard to lose weight and get healthy. I'd done everything possible to ovulate. We'd privately dealt with a loss. Would we ever have enough money to adopt? Would there ever be a sweet little munchkin in our house?

And then we had the best morning of our lives. That positive test. I was ecstatic and terrified. I knew the odds of miscarriage were high. I'd already had some heavy, bright red bleeding and cramping that I'd assumed was one of my random periods. (I tend to have one every 3 years or so without medical induction.) That bleeding would make sense after Nyx was born and diagnosed with ToF. Then we would learn that most heart defect babies are early miscarriages. But not Nyx. She managed to hang on and grow and thrive.

As we adjusted to the idea of finally having a kiddo, Dave and I discussed whether or not we would do any sort of prevention after Nyx's birth. For some reason, women who struggle with infertility seem to become fertile myrtles after giving birth. We agreed we would rely on exclusive breastfeeding as our contraception of choice and leave it up to Fate.

But then Nyx was diagnosed with ToF and it became painfully clear that we had to make some ugly decisions. First and foremost, we have to consider Nyx's current needs. She absolutely needs my undivided attention right now. Secondly, we have to think about finances. We're doing okay now but we still have at least one open heart surgery to go in a few months. And then there is the very real chance we could have another baby with a heart defect. The odds of two parents without a family history of congenital heart defects having a ToF baby are, like, less than one half of a percent. Well we won that genetic lottery. The odds of having a second baby are double that. Considering we won the first jackpot, can we risk it again?

And that's where we are right now. As much as it kills me, I'm taking the mini-pill and continuing to breastfeed exclusively. In a month or two, I'll probably switch over to Desogen as long as it doesn't affect my milk production.

I know to a lot of people this probably doesn't seem like such a big deal but when you've faced your ovaries shutting down completely due to early menopause or losing them to rupturing cysts, it's just so unnatural to interfere. I'll confess that I sobbed all the way to the Kroger pharmacy the afternoon I went to have that prescription filled. Logically I know it's the responsible thing to do but what the heart wants and what the head knows to be right aren't always one and the same.

Will we give this baby business a try again? Maybe. Probably. Who knows? We'll revisit the question once Nyx is fully recovered and thriving. One way or another, we'll have another kid or two or three. Who knows? Maybe our next son or daughter is already waiting for us in some foster home.

Whatever happens, I'm learning to go with the flow. The best laid plans of mice and men and all that.