My First Pregnancy Part 1

After what’s felt like ages, Ryan and I are very happy to announce we are expecting our first baby in June. Some of you might have guessed something was up when my posts dropped from twice a week, to once a week, to once a month! Although my mom had warned me, I naively thought I would handle morning sickness with ease. THIS was not the case. Instead, I found myself hardly able to leave the bed (and with six wedding cakes ahead of me!)

But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Ryan and I had been told by numerous doctors that the only way I could get pregnant was through fertility treatment. After a few years of family loss, this news felt heavy and overwhelming. “One more thing?” I found myself asking God. “Do we really need to go through this too?” After drownings, car accidents, and suicides…Ryan and I needed rest.

I saw one fertility specialist last spring–an old hairy man with a thick eastern European accent. After a few appointments, I began to believe we had a better understanding of female anatomy than he did, and so we went on the search for a new doctor and clinic.

Thanks to the recommendation of a dear friend, we started seeing Dr. Hansard. Her presence was a comfort after several months of discouragement. We sat in her office for an hour as she explained what she thought was wrong…and how we would go about fixing it. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy. Not only would this be a huge financial commitment, but it would require my body to go through invasive procedures, hormone therapy, and tests. Ryan and I weren’t ready for this, but we felt empowered in finally understanding the problem.

Dr. Hansard asked me if she could do an ultrasound before we left. She wanted to take measurements and make sure that there wasn’t anything structural that would prevent treatment. Ryan and I sat in a very cold room and we watched that grainy screen as Dr. Hansard oriented herself with the ultrasound wand. After a few seconds, she started to chuckle. The nurse assisting her laughed too. Ryan and I looked at each other and then again at the screen.

“It looks like you’re pregnant,” she said.

Ryan and I sat there for several minutes. In complete shock. With thankful thankful hearts.

We continued to work with Dr. Hansard during my first trimester and she provided me with the best care I could have asked for. Now that we’re in Colorado, I finally am feeling better and we were able to watch our baby dance across the screen at our ultrasound appointment yesterday. Ryan and I are so thankful that we were given the opportunity to have this baby, but we are also aware of the long road that so many parents travel down to make their families a reality. And I  must say that family is a beautiful thing. Whether it happens through natural conception, through adoption, through fertility treatments, or through the development of friendships that are stronger than blood.

So I’ll be baking (still) and I’ll be nesting (soon) and I’ll be waking up thankful for how good can still come after so much bad.

 

December 31, 2012

 

Ryan and I have been home for three weeks now. We’ve watched two snowfalls, and I’ve succumbed to two bouts of the stomach bug. I’ve been to the doctor (or ER) at least four times. And we still have what seems like hundreds of boxes stacked around the house. But despite sickness, the stress of unpacking, and a the occasional wave of uncertainty, Ryan and I feel so blessed to be home.

We are fortunate to be surrounded by those that have loved us for as long as we remember. By those who taught us the very meaning of the word love. Just as Ryan holds little Trent, we look forward to watching our parents and siblings hold our baby come this June (and did I mention that he or she is already the size of an avocado? and that I can feel him or her flutter in the early morning?).

Because Ryan and I didn’t know if we’d be able to get pregnant, and because we faced this uncertainty during a season of immense grief and loss, this baby feels like the greatest gift we could ever receive. Each ultrasound is magical, and I’m already counting down the days to when we bring him or her into our world. We have such good examples of love here. Each time my sister holds baby Ryan, I see the power that flows between a mother and a child. No matter what happens. No matter what obstacles they may face.

So as we wait, we celebrate all that is good and restored in our lives. Having my two sisters in the same room and us laughing over plates of spaghetti is as precious as any present we received this Christmas. Throwing up again and again, only to finally reach that moment when your body decides enough is enough and finally allows you to eat and drink makes those first bites and sips better than anything you’ve enjoyed the entire year. And watching my dad and niece decorate my birthday cake with such care erases all the birthdays we spent apart from each other. I am so very happy to be home.

January 4, 2013

I’m 17 weeks pregnant now, which means I want and need to eat constantly. Breakfast is always  followed by a morning snack, and these muffins along with a a decaf latte, have made 10:00am my favorite hour. Packed with ripe pears and seasoned with a noticeable dose of cinnamon, these whole wheat muffins are moist, with just the right amount of sweetness.

Being 17 weeks along in this journey, I’m finally starting to show. After weeks of morning sickness, it’s exciting that the world can now see my body changing (because it’s felt quite different for quite some time now). Susanne has generously loaned me her maternity clothes. After four children, she has an enviable collection. And my sweet husband? Well, he’s been treating me like a queen. For Christmas, he stitched this mama and baby pendent for me. A piece of jewelry that I’ll treasure for the rest of my life.

January 14, 2013

What a mouthful. But a delicious and healthy mouthful! This whole wheat apple walnut braid was born during the second half of the Broncos’ game, and everyone at my house felt grateful for the smell of a sweet and yeasty loaf when the Broncos lost (painfully) in overtime. There is nothing like a warm oven and a freshly baked loaf of bread to soothe wounded pride.

But despite the Bronco game, we had a good weekend. And it all started with that awe-inspiring fetal heartbeat. Ryan and I are lucky enough to be working with an ob/gyn that is a personal friend of the family. She has lived up the street from my parents for as long as we’ve been in Colorado, and I used to baby-sit her babies when I was in middle and high school. We had an appointment with her on Friday afternoon, and, as always, that sweet heartbeat, nearly stopped our own.

We’re 18 weeks now, which means I’m almost half-way there, and we’ll soon be finding out if we’re having a little boy or girl. We’ve already chosen names, and we have a family dinner planned on February 1st, where we’ll get to share the news with our parents and siblings. That ultrasound will be our 6th (and hopefully our last). If our sweet baby keeps on growing like he/she is supposed to, the next time we’ll see him/her will be in the delivery room.

I’m hoping that come June, we’ll have plenty of meals and loaves of bread stored in the freezer. I know enough about new motherhood to recognize that my time in the kitchen will be rather limited at first. So I imagine the months leading up to June will be full of culinary experimentation and steady preparation.

I’m also becoming particularly mindful of what I put into my mouth. The first few months of my pregnancy were so difficult (stomach-wise) that I subsisted on a small list of foods that I found bearable (Cinnamon Toast Crunch, frozen chicken parmesean, hard boiled eggs, and smoothies from Wheatsville). THANKFULLY, my good eating habits have returned in the second trimester, along with my appetite. Whole grains, fruits and vegetables, organic meats and eggs, and plenty of wild-caught salmon.

January 17, 2013

Margot and I take our morning walks around the time that our neighborhood busies itself for school. Up and down the block, cars warm in driveways. Children scuttle from the garage to the car, and then back inside the house again. It’s so easy to forget your lunch, or that blue folder, or the coat your mother makes you wear from November through March.

I like watching these early morning preparations. The way that parents interact with their children during these time-sensitive endeavors makes me want to be kinder to those I love. Because aren’t we always at our worst when there’s somewhere to go?

This morning, Margot and I watched a pudgy nine-year-old throw pieces of bark towards the 2nd story window, where (presumably) his younger sister resided. After a few failed attempts, he finally caught her attention. She pressed her cheek against the cold window and shook her head. “Let me in!” the pudgy boy yelled. She smiled, and walked away. I couldn’t help but laugh at his sister’s somewhat evil ploy to keep her big brother outside. He, like most nine-year-olds, had neglected to bring his coat. Thankfully, the caravan of cars leaving my block assured me that his mother or father would rescue him soon.

These school-aged children make me excited to be a mother (also a bit fearful), and their momentary presence in my day fills me with nostalgia for times past. Ryan just released his Valentine greeting card for 2013, and I can’t help but remember how exciting it was to exchange cards and candy in my second grade classroom. Unlike most kids, I hand-made each of my cards. A labor both long and rewarding. I guess it’s fitting that I’m now married to a man who makes beautiful jewelry and greeting cards. We’re perfect for each other. In so many ways.

And as far as pregnancy goes? I’m doing wonderfully. My energy is strong, and I’m feeling the baby move on a daily basis now. My obstetrician happens to live just a few houses up from us, and when I walk down the hill with Margot in the morning, I can see our delivery hospital in the distance. So even though I’m enjoying every moment of my pregnancy, I can’t help but be reminded of how incredible the day will be when I give birth to our son or daughter (speaking of which…expect a very fun post at the beginning of next month. We find out gender so soon!). I’ve also been DELIGHTED to find so many sweaters and tops at Anthropologie that will work both as maternity clothes and as new mom clothes. The top below is my current favorite.

January 25, 2013

We’re approaching 20 weeks, which means I’m almost half-way there, and we’ll soon be finding out if we’re having a little boy or girl. We’ve already chosen names: Lucille Amelia and Alden Robert. The names have ties to our family, and we like the old-fashioned feeling each evokes. At this point in my pregnancy, I’m feeling energized, almost too energized (thus the reason I’m awake at 6am on my day off), and I’m constantly hungry. Last night, I had to have one more slice of this french apple tart before going to bed. And I’m making my third batch of crepes in one week. One week! Needless to say, this baby has a french appetite.

February 2, 2013

Girl! Ryan and I could not be more thrilled to announce that we’ll be welcoming a daughter into the world come June. So many of you were correct in your guesses!

I went into our ultrasound on Wednesday fully expecting to leave with”team blue.” I wanted a girl, but since Ryan has three brothers, I thought the odds heavily favored the male gender. So even though I secretly hoped and prayed for a baby Lucy, I thought we were having a boy. As many of you know, my oldest sister died in a car accident two years ago. Her birthday is at the end of June, and if everything goes as planned, so is our baby’s. The thought of welcoming another little girl into the world was healing, but in order to prepare…I planted myself firmly in the boy-camp, just to prevent disappointment.

So as you might imagine, when the ultrasound technician had finally finished oohing and aahing over our baby’s “textbook perfect” measurements and organs and announced, “You’re having a little girl,” I burst into very happy tears. Telling my family was almost as emotional.

Lucille Amelia Moutrie-Kulp, we couldn’t be more excited about your arrival. Stay tuned for a post later in this week that explains the significance of her name…I’ll have some very old and beautiful photographs to share!

Until then…watch my precious niece learn that she’ll no longer be the only girl in our family. Her reaction is priceless.

February 5, 2013

There are a lot of things Ryan and I don’t know. We don’t know exactly where we’ll be living when our baby is born. Or the day she’ll arrive (our guess date is June 19th). We don’t know how tired we’ll be during those first few months. Or if we’ll get a chance to go to Paris in the fall. I’m not certain what my labor will look like, what doctor will attend our birth, or if my little sister will be able to make it out from West Virginia on time.

But, we do know the name of our daughter, and we hoped that by naming her, we would evoke all the kind and generous women who have raised our families.

When I’m asked to picture a kitchen in my head, I immediately think of my Grammy’s small but fruitful kitchen. Pictures of her grandchildren cover the refrigerator, and there is always something freshly baked to be found in a plastic Tupperware container or on a shelf in the fridge. Each holiday season brings about Grammy’s famous pies, and we all snack on her chocolate brownies while we wait for the turkey to finish roasting.

We decided to name our daughter Lucille (Lucy) Amelia, after my mom’s mother, my Grammy. Quite simply, she is one of the sweetest and gentlest women I know. Through her, I learned a love of baking…and, more importantly, how to love others well. She gave birth to my mother, who is by far the most special and influential person in my life. Without my mother’s consistent, loving presence, I wouldn’t be so excited to give birth to my baby. Lucille is a way of honoring those generations of love and support.

Lucille also means “bringer of light.” Many of you know the loss that Ryan and I have experienced during our short, four years of marriage. Within six months of our wedding day, we lost Ryan’s father to suicide. Then, my sweet nephew, baby Ryan, was in a near-drowning in October of 2010, leaving him permanently and severely disabled. In March of 2011, my oldest sister and her family were in a car accident in Florida. We lost Pam, her husband Mike, and my nephew Jeremy. That summer, Ryan and I were told we couldn’t conceive without fertility treatment…and after everything that had happened…what a painful blow.

But there were other plans in store for us…a little girl who would bring a fresh dose of light and joy. Lucy is due just a few days before Pam’s birthday, and I can’t help but feel like this is part of a much bigger story.

My Grammy fell very ill earlier this year, and I pray for her sustained health every day. This will be her first great-grandchild, and I can’t wait to see her hold baby Lucy in her arms. This past Thanksgiving, she wasn’t able to make the pies we’ve all come to love. Thankfully, I’ve learned a few of her tricks over the years, and I’ll be happy to carry on the tradition she started…and teach baby Lucy to do the same.

February 13, 2013

On days when I need a fresh towel, I open the cabinet beneath my sink and I’m confronted with what I call “the box of disappointment.” There, beside the towels, sits an unopened box of pregnancy tests. For over a year, maybe even two, I took at least one pregnancy test each month. Ryan could always tell I had taken one just by looking at my face.

Not only did month after month go by with no positive pregnancy test, but month after month went by without me even bleeding. My doctors quickly gave me two options: birth control or fertility treatment. According to our specialist, the complex interplay between my brain and my ovaries had malfunctioned. And it could be a permanent problem.

So when I found out I was pregnant with Lucy, I was sitting in a doctor’s office. I didn’t have a positive pregnancy test to wave in front of Ryan’s face. I didn’t have any private moments to digest what had happened inside my body. Instead, Ryan and I both stared at an ultrasound screen (they wanted to measure my uterus before starting any type of fertility treatment) and we both saw, together, the first picture of our baby girl.

And that one moment made all those hard months disappear.

Recently, there have been days where I’ve wanted to take a pregnancy test just so I can finally see the positive symbol in that white window. But then there is another part of me that is happy to leave all of that longing and pain sealed inside a paper box.

Ryan and I are celebrating Valentine’s Day tonight (we tend to do it one day early or one day late). And I’m happy to say that I’ve never felt more love between my husband and me. Many might assume that this little baby has something to do with it. And of course, they’re right. But only in part. Because I think what makes this year truly special is that Ryan and I have walked through some dark valleys, and we’re finally seeing the light, together.

February 19, 2013

We’re 23 weeks now, and I’m happily resting in the middle of my second trimester. As I thought about the past few weeks, I found myself categorizing. Good and bad. Love and hate. Why the mind tends towards binaries, I don’t fully know. But I thought I’d share my list with you.

Loves:

Feeling Lucy move. At about 13 weeks, I felt a few random pops in my lower abdomen. If anyone asked, I would say it felt like popcorn popping. But now that we’re ten weeks further along, I can actually feel AND see the jolts that her growing limbs produce. Her favorite time to move is around nine in the evening (right after I eat my most recent pregnancy craving–a slightly underripe banana) and Ryan rests his hand on my belly so he too can feel our daughter.

Kindness of strangers. I finally look unmistakingly pregnant, which means that strangers are now wishing me good luck and their heartiest of congratulations. I’m sure that the belly touching and due-date asking will grow old, but right now I’m happy to share my good news with anyone who might be interested.

Hynobirthing. Ryan and I started our hynobirthing class in early February, and we’ve already learned so much. We’re hoping for a natural birth, and I’m learning tools to help my body and mind relax during the labor process. Our instructor is interesting, engaging, and knowledgable. If anyone in Colorado Springs is looking for a birthing class or a doula, I’d be happy to pass along her information!

Appetite. I’m hungry. All the time. And I’m finally craving food that I know is good for me and baby. Whole grains, fresh veggies and fruit, lean protein, and cheese (lots and lots of cheese).

Hates (or as my father would admonish me to say instead–Strong Dislikes):

Lack of sleep. I’m already not sleeping well, which I hear only gets worse. I’m able to fall asleep easily, but I wake several times during the night, and I no longer can sleep in past 6:30 am. This is fine, mostly, but Ryan and I are trying to catch up on all the Oscar nominated films for 2013 (which means our bed-time has been pushed back and hour or two later).

Bleeding gums and nose. Progesterone is making the vessels in my nose and mouth more susceptible to bleeding. Couple that hormone with a dry climate, and I have had my fair share of bloody tissues.

Nesting. Normally, nesting would be fun. Not so much when all of your belongings are still in boxes.

Pregnancy brain. I’ve heard that pregnancy brain is a myth, but I think otherwise. I’ve definitely noticed an increase in forgetfulness, which isn’t ideal considering that this is my last semester of graduate school and I have a hefty thesis to defend in a few weeks.
So there’s my list at 23 weeks. What I love and dislike about being pregnant. But at the end of the day, I’m so grateful for this little life inside of me, and I’ve felt a deeper connection to my family, Ryan, and God because of this gift. There is purpose in both our joys and our struggles, and I’m learning to embrace both each day.