270 Days

Pregnancy Brain

Green and white. Those are the colors I've decided on. After weeks and weeks of plundering through so many different color combinations I've set my mind on this dynamic duo of sage and eggshell. Initially, I wanted a colorful nursery for our miracle baby, to reflect the endless amount of vibrancy such a small human has added to our once monochrome existence. However, my app for new parents says baby's can see plain shades better, so plain shades it will be. I spend countless hours of my day thinking if she will have cobalt shaded eyes like Ansen or more hazel like me. Perhaps the gene pool will surprise us and give us a mixture of both. Every moment I feel her small feet flutter beneath my skin I can't help but feel so grateful that we are finally here. After 6 years of infertility, we made it. The mini emotional rollercoaster that you ride with infertility is dispiriting. So many sticks with one line causing me to sit on the bathroom floor for hours trying to make something be there, but there never was. Until we met, Dr. Allison Dubois. She undoubtedly saved our marriage, our emotional well-being, and our hope to become a family.

      Every visit with her is so detailed. It almost seems like I'm having a textbook perfect pregnancy. Feeling kicks at 18 weeks gestation, showing during my second trimester, the whole nine yards. "We've got you all set for an ultrasound next week" said the lady sitting at the front desk let me know on my way out from my 20 week appointment. "Oh, and do you need a refill on your prenatal vitamin?" She sputtered before I fully exited the office. I was stuck in thought for a moment. One...two...three... I tried to recount the amount of almond sized pills I seen in the jar this morning. I interrupted my own thoughts because the silence was dragging as she waited for a response. "-Ah pregnancy brain you can go ahead and request a refill for me, thank you!" I said as I pushed my way into the corridor. Everytime I told my mom about these huge prenatal vitamins she laughed and exclaimed about how they didn't have those "back in her day". Just like they didn't have IVF, or amazing doctors like Dr. Dubious. While I was sitting in my appointment, plundering through my thoughts, I got a text from my sister, Ana. "Call me when you get out of your appointment I want to hear about my little butterfly" it read. From the moment this baby was conceived- or implanted rather, Ana has always called the baby her butterfly. So delicate and special, a symbol of patience, since we were so patient in being able to experience the miracle which is this pregnancy.