Today I am 5 months pregnant. 5 months since my world changed for the better. You are the size of a cucumber and weigh about 6.5 oz. At this point, you have fingerprints, and in a few short weeks, I will be halfway through my pregnancy. It’s been a time filled with lots of emotions. I’ve had to face a lot of my own fears and insecurities surrounding motherhood. I’m also flooded with memories of my childhood and think about the things I wish I would have had differently. I try to see my mother in a more compassionate light, knowing that she did the best she could even if I didn’t always agree. I’ve been blessed to have the support of your dad, something that I didn’t have the chance to experience and it makes me so happy to see how much he loves you already. I’m also amazed at my own body and it’s ability to carry you while you grow inside of me. I spend many of my days talking to you, hoping you’ll grow up to be loving, kind, strong and independent. Since childhood I’ve had a connection with words. Writing has carried me through the most difficult moments and happiest moments. I know this time will be fleeting so I’m writing to you so that our connection will grow. It is my hope to document as much as my pregnancy before you arrive so that I can remember these moments and share them with you.
You’ve been showing up to me for almost eight years. Sometimes it was only every few years, and every single time I knew you were my baby, but I wasn’t ready. I didn’t know if I ever would be, and back then I could afford the luxury of waiting. I began to feel the pressure a few years ago, but I knew that I needed some time to let go of the resistance and fear. Through the years I’ve debated whether motherhood was right for me, not because I didn’t want to be a mother, but because I didn’t know if I could be a good mother. It was almost a year ago that my feelings began to change. I was in the middle of a yoga class when you appeared to me again. This time you were about 6-7 years old, I was sitting on the ground while you were standing. You had beautiful long brown hair and hugged me so tight. You looked at me with so much love and adoration that I instantly shifted inside, I felt the resistance begin to melt away.
Your dad has always been a natural, the way he takes care of Gigi and I is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. He loves to cook and take care of those he loves. He’s been ready to be a father since I’ve known him, it’s one of the things that attracted me the most to him. Nurturing is part of his nature, and it’s been a part of mine too, but for many years I neglected that side of me. I allowed hurt and disappointments to separate me from my true self. After your dad and I got married, I decided I needed to be the best version of myself and started to work on healing those parts of me that were broken and in a way, I was doing it for you too.
It was my first day on set on the start of an amazing project that would lead me to travel over the next few months. It was close to the end of the day when I received a phone call from the doctor’s office with the results of a recent physical. “Everything looks great, but we checked your hormones and your egg count reserve is a bit low at .4, The norm at your age is 1, and the quality of your eggs are higher than normal which can be a bit of an issue.” I tried to process the information. “So you’re saying that I’m not releasing enough eggs each month?” I quickly asked. “Yes, but try not to worry.” We ended the conversation, and I did nothing but worry. We had been trying for a year. Was that the reason why I wasn’t getting pregnant?
I decided to have a second opinion and visit my OBYGN. She was very hopeful and assured me that there was a lot they could do in her office. We repeated the tests, and a few weeks later got the results. The doctor left me a voicemail “We got results.” She rattled off numbers that were lower than the previous month. “I’m concerned with the numbers being this low because of your age. I think you should go speak to a fertility specialist.” I could hear the concern in her voice. As I replayed the voicemail, I broke down and cried. In the midst of my sadness, I had a stranger say me, “She will come when she’s ready.” Though the words were slightly reassuring, I was battling emotions that began to haunt me. I felt guilty about all of the years spent trying to prevent pregnancy, and for the next month, I embarked on an emotional rollercoaster. I had no idea what this meant for your me and your dad or how long it would be until we would conceive you, or if we ever would. I allow fear to have a place in my heart, yet through it, all your dad remained so calm.
I leaned heavily on my meditation practice, but there were days that I couldn’t stand the idea because it stirred up so many emotions; still, I knew that I needed to show up for myself and that I needed to try to not escape from my emotions. I needed to feel. I was in the living room late one evening, while your father was in the bedroom about to fall asleep. I heard the bedroom door close and assumed your father had gotten up to close it. I was in the middle of meditating and thought that perhaps my chanting had disturbed him when suddenly I see an image if your grandfather, he was smiling warmly and just as quickly as he appeared he was gone.
Weeks later, I found myself working on a show on a ship in Alaska. I always imagined Alaska as a desolate, cold place, but once I arrived, I was stunned by its beauty. I knew that this was a place where I was meant to heal. On the 3rd day, we embarked in Juneau. I had no idea what I would do once I got off the ship, but something drew me to visit Mendenhall Glacier, a magical place that brought me so much peace. I spent almost 4 hours absorbing it all. I went on a short hike to get closer to the glacier; I felt that it would cleanse me. It was time for me to release the fear that I had–of not being a good enough mother, of not being able to conceive and when I would be able to conceive. I knew that I needed to let go of the need to have to control things because this was certainly something I would never be able to control. As I put my feet in the fridged water, I said out loud, “ I think I’m supposed to tell you to come when you’re ready.” Days later, I was at dinner with a new coworker. As we were talking, she asked, “What’s her name? Your daughter?”
Through all of the traveling, emotions, and chaos, I was able to still keep up with my 90-day meditation, and it wasn’t easy. Once I got back, I felt very tired and emotionally depleted. As I began meditating, I found myself crying, then a sudden flash of a little girl about 18 months old running through the apartment. She had short brown curly hair and was laughing. At the moment I thought nothing of it. I was too consumed with my emotions. I had no idea that I was pregnant with you.
Your dad and I made an appointment to see a fertility specialist in the second week of June. The specialist confirmed what the previous tests had shown. We would be back a month later to discuss our results. She patiently told us our options and made a plan that would include testing. Your dad and I left very overwhelmed but hopeful. It wasn’t until a few days later that I began to panic. The specialist had ordered a test that seemed particularly painful called Hysterosalpingogram (HSG) where they shoot dye into the ovaries to see if they are blocked. The test needed to be scheduled between cycle day 6-9 in order to get accurate results, so I needed to wait for my moon cycle to make the appointment. Earlier that week, I ordered a new ovulation kit that also had some pregnancy tests. On the night of June 20th, while your father was at a soccer game and despite not showing any signs of morning sickness, I decided to take a pregnancy test. To my astonishment, two lines quickly appeared. So naturally, I took three more tests. They all were positive.
It’s almost as if I couldn’t trust that you had made your arrival. Over the next day, I took eight pregnancy tests. Exactly a week later, I was back at the fertility specialist taking a blood test to confirm that I was pregnant with you. On June 21st I told your dad that we were expecting you. He was so happy that he almost couldn’t contain it. It was during those early moments that we began to refer to you as “she.” Somehow in our hearts, we knew that you were a girl and started calling you “Baby V” after your grandfather’s first name. We returned to the specialist for our first ultrasound visit when you were six weeks. Your dad was proudly recording those first moments, we were in shock when we heard your heartbeat for the first time. You were so tiny and the sound filled the entire room. From that moment everything changed. It was no longer about us as individuals. At that moment everything shifted from “I” to “we”.
There have been times where I’ve worried if you were ok and the best advice another momma has given me is that I needed to trust that we are taken care of and I know this is true once you are born and through your life. Throughout this entire experience my patience, trust and sense of self have been tested. I’ve learned that sometimes my faith will be shaken and that’s ok. Any time I worry, I hear a soft voice saying, “She’s ok.”
Becoming pregnant with you has been the best thing that’s happened to me because as you’ve grown, I have too on so many levels. I’ve been forced to address my need to control things, my past insecurities, and my need to want to be perfect. I know that I’ll make many mistakes and I hope that you’ll be able to see that it’s ok to make mistakes because it’s part of our human experience I hope that when you make mistakes (and you’ll make plenty) you’re gentle with yourself. That you’ll find the deeper meaning in the lesson and that you’ll always trust that despite how negative or bleak a situation is, you’re taken care of and everything will work out for your highest good.
You are our little miracle, and we are so excited to embark on this journey with you.