Back to the Bump: First Trimester

Getting pregnant was not easy for me. I have/had something called PCOS — Poly Cystic Ovarian Disease. Without going into too much detail, my cycles were all over the map, I rarely ovulated, and I had a very difficult time getting pregnant. I cannot tell you how many negative  pregnancy tests I’ve seen, how many times I saw the big fat negative and went to my doctor anyways to make sure it wasn’t one of those elusive false negatives. And even though I went in with a negative test, I was still heart broken every time.  I was never short of hope. Until I started thinking pregnancy may not be in the cards for me. I remember the day I  “gave up” it was in June,  I signed my husband and I up for an adoption seminar scheduled for a weekend in September. I just knew that we were meant to be parents, and I was tired of being a pin cushion, eating seeds with a full moon, snacking like a squirrel, and getting heartbroken every time my BBT showed no ovulation. It was years of trial and error, and I didn’t want to do it anymore.

My “giving up” must have had some sort of effect on me. Because, out of the blue, after years of negative tests, when I least expected it (because that’s what life does) a real positive, a second pink line, one whole +  ! When I got my first positive test, my husband Mike didn’t believe me. He bought three different brands, one of which was digital, then he questioned whether the yes meant, yes you are not pregnant.

When I got confirmation from my doctor, we were elated and overwhelmed.  Then disbelief came back. Then worry, and what ifs filled my head.  It was almost as if my happiness and excitement was sucked back in, like one big breath that I would hold for an entire three months.

I already loved that teeny tiny seed inside of me. It was what I– what we, were wanting for so long. A tiny seed that I already talked to, dreamt about and danced for – and it could just disappear. I just kind of kept going with the flow, despite the disbelief and worry, because I had to.

Along the way that tiny seed made me keep a plastic bag in my purse for the morning subway ride. Gave me monstrous migraines, and woke me up for big glasses of chocolate milk at 3 am.  And just when I thought I got the hang of things mentally, my hormones jumped ship. I cried at everything, including commercials about dog food.

But then, the magic happened. I had my first Ultrasound early because I had some bleeding, which only added to my worry. The placenta started to tear and they wanted to see how significantly. I was so incredibly nervous. With jelly on my growing belly, I laid with a painfully full bladder. And as the technician moved the wand over my stomach with graceful control, I couldn’t help thinking the worst.  The technician kept the screen facing her with quiet focus, every few seconds I would hear her ‘click’. Then she moved the screen towards me and I almost didn’t want to look. With the crunch of my paper gown, I turned to the dark screen and I saw the bright flutter of a tiny heart.

The heart of my seed.

For the first time in weeks I let out that breath– the one I had been holding in. I knew we weren’t out of the woods yet, but for that moment, for that second– my hopes, my dreams, my dances, were for someone. No matter what happened, our seed was there, and telling me “its okay to take a breath mama.”




Are you in your first trimester? Do you have PCOS? We would love to hear how you’re feeling. You aren’t alone mama, you’ve got a village right here.

I’m Char, Mike’s wife and Ben’s mama. We live in the east end and love long walks on the beach with our spunky wiener dog Sammie. My weeks often straddle a fine line as a stay-at-home mama, while hustling as an arts educator and freelance content writer/ illustrator. If you’re looking for me, I’ll be under the pile of laundry with my toddler, prepping materials for my next art workshop.

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