Two lines means what?!?

As recently as June 3, I have an angry blog post sitting in my "draft" box venting over all the people who seemed to not even want or care about the babies they had while I just kept turning up negative despite wanting a child so much.
Which brings us to last Friday morning, at 4a, I slipped out of bed to throw on my scrubs and head to the hospital. I was finishing a week of general surgery and loving every minute of it.  I loved the pace, the no nonsense, the more sure solutions to problems, the precision and skill required. I loved the early mornings and felt so motivated and in syn even when I got reamed for doing things like accidently cutting a stitch (instead of just the tail) or forgetting a certain anatomical landmark.  After a tough week with long days devoid of food, water, and bathroom breaks I have no idea what caused me to reach for a pregnancy test.   I sleepily glanced down at it as I was brushing my teeth and froze.  These were those super cheap tests from Amazon so it lacked the precise +/- that gives you rapid answers one way or another.  This one was either one or two lines.  As I looked at it again, my still sleeping brain tried to rapidly remember which one meant which.  Did two lines mean pregnant?!??! or not? I had to pull out the box and look at the directions several times.  And then sat there frozen again, holy shit.  I took another test, tried again.  Same result.  How can someone with a PhD have such a hard time remembering how many lines mean what?!  Perhaps this explains why I hated western blots.  But at long last I decoded the riddle: I am PREGNANT!!!! And to say I am shocked yet so truly excited would be an understatement.  I have had absolutely zero symptoms.  I've been focused and on top of my game and filled with insane amounts of energy.  I felt cutthroat and rock solid, no roller coaster of emotions, no tears, no mean streak (like first time around)  Granted I crash pretty hard when I get home from work but that's to be expected after 4a starts and hanging with DLO from the minute I'm done with surgery til bed.  I debated rushing to tell DH right away but figured it was a great day to whip it into a surprise. I had a shorter clinic day so would have a little time to do something fun.  I walked around on cloud nine all day.  The only thing I worried about was how long I'd been pregnant...I had gone nuts taking so many pregnancy tests that I had decided to veto them until my boobs hurt (which had been my big tell with DLO#1).  So I had gone on and on and done things like not eaten well during surgery, poor sleep, a couple sips of alcohol the weekend before with DH (luckily nothing more than that!) and tons of coffee.  All things I had religiously avoided even during TTC with #1. After clinic, I ran to the store, bought a cute little dinosaur onesie (DLO #1 favorite right now) and a white t-shirt that I decorate "#1 Big Sib" for DLO. But here I am, crazily in love with the idea of DLO#2, worried I messed up DLO#2 by not even knowing I was pregnant, knowing I'm crazy for planning to have a baby during clinical rotations, and yet still so happy.  Here we go, dating ultrasound in a week (2.5weeks after positive test) so I'll be able to feel more assured about viability and start making some plans.  Wooohoooo!

TTC #2

Much like the first time around, there is much anxiety about the "right" time to have # 2.  But as my medical school courses have hammered home, those eggs start aging pretty quickly as you slide towards 40, chromosomal abnormalities and mutation rates increase pretty dramatically and things like premature ovarian failure are not uncommon.  Its really amazing when you study things like embryology, fertility, and reproduction things hit home a little more when you can apply them to oneself.  I had nightmares for a month about dead babies as we learned as I unkindly called it "the hundreds of flavors of dead babies." I had to be calvalier about it as each image of someone's child who died either in utero or shortly post-natally was held up as an example of a disease/disorder/mutation that we were learning.  All I could do was think of the grief-striken parents and imagine myself in their shoes.  Thus the weeks of terrible nightmares.  But I digress (maybe)? So here we are, anxious to get baby #2 in the works, at a happy place in life were DLO #1 is in a good place for a sibling, though honestly in probably a terrible position in my training (though honestly over the next ~10yrs there isn't an awesome time but if I waited I'd be out of luck). DH is pretty excited for round 2 which I find amazingly adorable because its not like our lives are that easy right now and his enthusiasm for adding more chaos is to me a sign of his love. So now we're back in that terrible place (for me) of TTC, where I curse my body every cycle for failing us.  Where I watch every sign and twinge and drop of blood for signs of fertility.  Its too consuming. Its too exhausting. I envy the ladies with the fertile bodies that reproduce with ease.  I'm tired of the rollercoaster of thinking I "might be" pregnant only to be severely disappointed a few days/weeks later.  Case in point, I've finally had my cycle back regularly (which for me is odd so maybe that's issue #1), I've been tracking every sign like crazy, marking every time we "do it," and use all the various calculators to figure out the prime fertility window.  DH has his own plan and has just been making sure to "do it" at least every other night which is nice but is also slightly exhausting and probably unsustainable if this takes us a while.  Two days ago I got light spotting, it fit exactly with when (if I had nailed our fertility window) we'd have implantation! My joy bounded, the issues it will cause with my training didn't matter.  I started daydreaming about scheduling and announcing it adorably to DH after a positive pregnancy test and what our lives would look like early next year.  But then today, with heavier cramps and some more bleeding I can only assume damn ole Aunt Flo is on the way. And I'm sad again for all the effort and energy and high hopes and the months and years ahead of going through it over and over again.  I'm tired and we've only been trying for a few months. Maybe I'm just tired.  Three weeks left of the semester and a slightly needy (read up a lot at night) though independently inclined and stubborn (read, won't do anything without a fight) toddler who has recently made me feel like the "mean mom" has kind of worn me out.  Here's to summer and easy? TTC and all the rest of it.  Oh yeah, and passing the year?  Probably better get back to studying to ensure I won't be repeating anything...that of all my worries, is always the biggest one of all!  SO easy in med school to make one small slip.

Love

I know its clique, it irritated me every time parents would get this faraway look in their eyes and say "you never know what love is until you have a kid." But as every parent can attest, its the truth.  When a picture of your kid or a goofy antic or their peals of giggles makes your breath catch and your heart hurt you know what they meant.  You are now living the clique.  And its more than the fact that they can make you deliriously happy at the drop of a hat, its also their little arms curled around your neck as they learn how great hugs are, or their attempts at kisses, or the way you rock them to sleep and they are curled up on you, just about to be too big to fit on your lap but never too big to fit on your lap.  Or the way your heart just melts in smolders when you hear about kids getting abused or  when they are unloved and try to fathom how anyone could allow that to happen to their kid.  Its when you realize what true evil must be and that it does exist.  Anytime someone chooses to hurt a child or allow them to exist without love.  That is evil.  I cannot be a pediatrician because I can not handle working with children and their parents because it would hurt too much sometimes.  I have long pondered what may differentiate those who love their kids so much it can be physically painful versus those who can cause physical or emotional pain to their child.  One thing that always really touches deep to my core is when I listen to Andrew Solomon who is one of my most favorite and probably one of the greatest authors of all times talk about his love for his family.  One of the things he says is that he just never expected to be a father, never expected to be a husband, never expected to have love like this.  And for me at least, that is probably part of why even when parenting is exhausting (and let me tell you as a parent, in medical school to boot, of a kid that thinks sleep is enemy #1, it is exhausting often), I am still gloriously, annoyingly in love with being a parent because I didn't think I would get this.  I never expected to find a man who made my heart skip a literal beat, I thought that was just for the fairytales.  My parents definitely weren't the model of happily ever after and realistically with a divorce rate of 50% and finding a good man being like being struck by lightening, I just didn't really expect it for myself.  And I knew I would have challenges getting pregnant so my life's plans in my mind never included all of that.  And then my life did go that route and the unexpected became possible and treasured because it is never taken for granted.  It always feels like a gift that might get taken away because who gets to be this happy?  And so, like Andrew Solomon, I am cautiously optimistic about the permanence of my happiness but it makes me revel in each and every moment, to appreciate the baby wisps of hair, the fleeting days of breastfeeding, the too short weekends and holidays, the grains of sand that pour too quickly through the clock of life.  Love.  It is what makes life rich beyond words, its what colors the days and makes them seem bright.  Thank you to DH and DLO for making my life richer beyond my greatest expectations.  Love.

The Conundrum of Medical School

As I reflect on the first semester of medical school gone by, I can in retrospect say that it was a good semester and that I'm glad I'm in medical school.  However, as the first week of the second semester begins I have already started semi-wishing I was not here.  There's an odd franticness to medical school material.  There is way more material than should normally be distributed to an individual to learn in the time allotment they gave us.  It is critical to figure out exactly how much you need to go through (because there are masses of additional readings that just sidetrack you from the material you need to know and would just cause consternation) and additionally critical to never fall behind.  At least, in my life, with the very few hours of study time available on evenings and weekends falling behind during the week would be catastrophic.  I also really miss my "free time." With my commute and my daughter, all my free time is used up in those two buckets with studying always being a bucket not as full as it should.  I miss my daily runs, getting to read books for leisure, and watching a movie every once in a while with DH. 
As I read some posts from residents about how stressful their lives are, it causes me to pause.  Part of me wants to rant against this crazy journey I have set out on.  I hate the commute, I hate the endless amounts of insane information, I hate the millions of hoops you just have to jump through.  I hate that this is a very long training path that stretches out into the far future.  But then I try look at it from a more objective perspective; no matter what path I choose, I would most likely be working and always frustrated about the time away from DLO.  In a lot of other jobs, I would hate the brain stagnation that would occur.  I will have the whole summer off this year, 4th year is just chock full of time off, and at some point I will have a career where I can help others, make a good paycheck, and hopefully be a good role model to my children.  See, that's what some sunshine and a rare run does for my mood, it brightens it and puts it into perspective.  While I am strapped into this ride and sometimes hate every minute, its hard to know if any other path would have been much different.  So on we go.  Grateful that one biochem exam is past (though still dreading getting me score), dreading the cumulative biochem exam in a few weeks but also looking forward to spring break and a while week with DLO.  We can do this!!!! Right?