yippy skippy: a story

Here is the story of the miracle.

Part I  
(Guys, you probably won't care about this at all, but girls like to know.)

I have been working with a naturally-minded doctor for years--he has been my primary medical provider since age twelve and has done so much to help me. Turns out that my estrogen was off the charts thanks to a combination of stress and poor liver function. Reducing estrogen via herbal supplement did not result in pregnancy. Next we worked on the liver. No dice. Then we got to overactive adrenal glands, which were helping to churn out that excess estrogen and essentially tricking my body into thinking it was on birth control all this time. Fantastic.

Meanwhile, I had been discovered that my basal body temperature was alarmingly low. I felt lucky if it ever popped up above 97 degrees! This low temperature, coupled with adrenals on overdrive, pointed to hypothyroidism. (Thyroid and adrenal glands work in tandem: if one falters, the other picks up the slack. So it made sense that if my adrenals were working too hard, my thyroid must be weak.)

Medication seemed to be our best option. Now, I don't even like taking Advil, but if my crazy-smart, skeptical-of-modern-medicine doctor was recommending thyroid meds, I knew it was time.

I filled my first prescription the first week of June.

I got pregnant the following month.

Hmm. Guess he was right.

Part II

On July 21st I decided to take a pregnancy test. I hadn't done so for a year and had no real reason to think it would be any different this time--I simply cherished some faint, faint hope that the medication would have worked. But there was only one line. You need two for a baby. Not this time, I thought.

On July 28th I decided to take another pregnancy test. A few days before, a friend had casually mentioned that she'd had a false negative with one of her children. What if? I wondered. What if? Still, I was convinced that the previous weekend's results were accurate, and had no real reason to think it would be any different this time--but-- oh God.

In that second space there was a faint, faint line.

I started shaking. Then I took a shower, baked some apple spice muffins, and tried another test. Same thing. Holy cow. I called Jared, who was working outside, on the pretext that I needed him to find some paperwork for me. When he walked in, I gave him a muffin. And then I told him: "So. I lied. The real reason I called you is that I think you're going to be a daddy."

You should have seen his face. Grinning when your mouth is full of muffin is very difficult, but he managed.

I have to admit that I took three more pregnancy tests before I really believed it. By Sunday morning I was fully convinced, and by Sunday afternoon, we'd told our immediate family. Talk about joy.

We're told that the baby will arrive at the beginning of April. Until then, we have a lot of waiting and planning and rejoicing to do. Thank you for sharing in our struggles; thank you for lifting us up in prayer; and thank you, now, for joining in our elation.