Thursday. The morning I was supposed to test. I ensured I had a pink dye test (my favorite are First Response. Yes I have a favorite. After all the testing I’ve had to do I’ve learned to just spend the extra money on the First Response.)
I don’t now what I was expecting. Disappointment maybe? But that’s not what I saw. Nearly immediately I saw the second pink line show up on that test stick. I tried to talk myself out of this being a real positive because the trigger shot I had two weeks ago could still cause that test to turn positive.
I call the fertility office that morning. The nurse was cautious with me and ordered blood work. Faxed it to the lab. She made it a STAT order so I’d know later that day.
She called that afternoon. Positive. It was positive. I was pregnant. The nurse told me I needed to do one more blood test on Saturday. 48 hours after that first blood draw to ensure there was growth.
Saturday. I take my son with me to the lab. We had to go to the hospital because it was the only lab that could offer STAT results on a Saturday. A pit entered my stomach. Still didn’t feel secure about this pregnancy.
Instead of freaking out waiting for a phone call, when my son and I get home, I load Daylan up in the bike trailer, Dietrich gets his bike out, and we set out to exercise. Exercise always clears my brain and makes me feel better. I got us all to the end of the alley and my phone rang. It’s the fertility office.
I took a breath before answering. “Congratulations, Danielle! You’re pregnant! The baby is growing at a very healthy and steady rate.” The specific numbers I no longer remember, but I was pregnant.
We scheduled an ultrasound two weeks out.
I am pregnant.
Here we go again. I’m just over 4 weeks pregnant. So much can happen. This baby is super delicate. Sensitive to my body’s chemistry, its own DNA.
Lord I don’t want to miscarry again. I cannot lose another baby.
Monday. I’m 4 weeks 5 days. Getting around to go to bible study that night–Spotting.
Lord please don’t take this baby from me.
I immediately tell Dustin. Laid down on the couch. Called the fertility clinic. They were closed. I called the on-call number for my OB office. The on call doctor told me to relax, rest, and try not to worry. Seriously?!
I decided to go to bible study that night because I’d be sitting and not doing anything strenuous and I’d probably rather be around people that will lift me up than anything else.
I met my friend and asked her immediately to pray. We prayed. Prayed for awhile. She lifted that baby’s life up to Jesus, putting into words what I was feeling. Surrendering yet again this situation to Jesus.
In fact multiple of the ladies there that evening sensed something wrong with me. Maybe it was the splotchy eyes or the distanced stare. The ladies each grabbed me and prayed over me with fervent, powerful, vulnerable prayers for me… and the baby.
Tuesday Because of the spotting on Monday night, the fertility clinic gets takes me in for an ultrasound. Everything is fine and as expected for a nearly 6 week old baby.
The next week…. same thing happened again. This time the doctors told me not to worry, they were sure it was a reaction to the excessive hormones I was taking.
Week 6— the first real ultrasound appointment. HR 137
Week 8 Graduation Day! The baby’s health looked so great and the heart rate was 180. Only thing missing was the confetti party as I walked out of the office. I’m almost sure one of the best things was that the doctor was genuinely excited and happy for us. Below is our first ever 3D ultrasound. Amazing how detailed our babies are at just 8 weeks!
Week 10 Yes we have a lot of ultrasounds during my pregnancies.
Week 12 Baby’s heart beat was 172
Week 16 The fear or threat is still very real. This baby may not make it to my arms or may make it all too soon to my arms. Instead of being wrapped up in fear, I choose to surrender. None of this is in my control.
