Tyler and I were married in 2012. Tired of the chemo drug making
me feel worse, I went off of it and we began trying to have a baby. But nothing
happened. Each negative pregnancy test sent me into a deeper funk. I routinely
had my blood drawn every 8 weeks to monitor any changes to my body due to the
biologic medicine I was on. My liver enzymes were elevated and my doctor
couldn't figure out why. Ultrasounds and two specialists later I found out I
had silent/asymptomatic Celiac disease. I loudly mourned the loss of my mom's
sugar cookies and dinner rolls in my life. I struggled more with this diagnosis
than with ankylosing spondylitis. Food is usually the highlight of any social
function and I felt like an outsider because I had to graciously decline almost
everything at a party or gathering. Infertility is common with celiac, so I
went gluten-free and hoped this give us the baby we so badly wanted.
Still nothing happened. I was ashamed but knew
I needed to be open with my OB. I told him about our struggles and he knew of
my health issues so he immediately started infertility testing. Tyler was fine,
but I found out I had PCOS and blocked tubes. I was diagnosed with primary
infertility. Our chances of having a baby without IVF were small. I had a
procedure done to try and clear my fallopian tubes, but it was deemed
unsuccessful. Tyler and I both didn't know if we could go through the cost,
process, and emotions of IVF. The trial of infertility was incredibly hard and
isolating. But in September 2014, I found out I was pregnant with my sweet
miracle baby.
My pregnancy was not easy, but I could never
justify a single complaint. I was working and going to school full time and
life moved along pretty fast. My pregnancy was eventful. I had
"morning" sickness that lasted until 24 weeks, major pneumonia and
the flu, and several broken and dislocated ribs. Broken ribs? You're maybe
thinking I fell down some stairs or something like that. Nope. While I was
about 8 months along, I sneezed while my son was up in my ribs and his strong
little kick did some major damage. A week after the rib incident, I lost my
beloved Grandpa Red. He was the only grandpa I knew. We share a birthday and
love of puzzles. I was crushed; I wanted him so badly to meet my son. He loved
babies and they loved him. I struggled to finish my last semester of school.
But again, I dug deep and scraped up what little motivation to finish. At 40
weeks pregnant, I accomplished my goal of graduating from the University of
Utah. After this, I began focusing on inducing labor naturally. But it was
around this time I noticed my beloved dog, Princess, wasn't eating or drinking
much. I took her to the vet and two days later I received the worst news: she
had cancer throughout her entire abdominal cavity. Chemo and surgery would have
maybe given her a week, and it wouldn't be a good one. We made the
heartbreaking decision to say goodbye to her the next day.
I'm sure you might be thinking what's so special about this dog?
Princess was more than a pet. She was a friend. She was family. I adopted her
after my AS diagnosis and when my depression and pain was the worst. She was
the constant companion and friend I needed when I couldn't get out of bed. In a
sense, we both rescued each other. I was scheduled to be induced at 41
weeks for reasons I won't bore you with. So 3 days before I gave birth to my
son, we said goodbye to Princess. I was utterly devastated by the loss of her
and my grandpa. When I felt my heart could take no more, I gave birth to a
beautiful, perfect baby boy. I never knew I could love so deeply and so purely.
My love for my son has helped me get through the hardest trial I've had yet and
am struggling with to this day: postpartum anxiety and depression.
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