Last year we were supposed to go to the US on July 15th for almost 6 weeks of a summer vacation.
A month before we were due to fly, I got a call from the landlord, telling us they wanted us out by the middle of August and they didn't want to renew our lease. Well, technically we didn't HAVE a lease, but they didn't want to rent to us.
Needless to say, we were all upset. The landlords refused to rent to us until November, even though we were willing to pay the higher price they were asking (we soon found out they were under pressure from certain Yishuv members to get us out of the Yishuv for reasons still unknown to us).
We had to cancel our vacation and instead of simply packing for a trip abroad, I now had to pack up an entire house. And find a place to live.
We were all devastated about the canceled trip and I grew depressed. And I knew that as July 15th arrived, my depression would worsen. So would my stress levels.
While all this was going on, my husband and I decided that after our move, we would get back on the fertility treatment wagon and go through the process of trying for another child. See, I suffer from
PCOS and our son was the result of a year of fertility treatments. Of getting up at the butt-crack of dawn to head in to Jerusalem twice a week for uncomfortable ultrasounds of my uterus and ovaries and blood tests to check hormone levels. Of injecting myself with hormones until I was black and blue. Of having to arrange to be in Jerusalem overnight for the
IUI because you only have an hour window of opportunity from the ah.. 'collection' to when the sperm needs to be at the clinic for cleaning. And the dreaded 2 week wait until you can take a pregnancy blood test. The only silver lining was that at 9 months postpartum, despite nursing full time, I had gotten my period on my own for the first time in 5 years (sorry if this is TMI). And I'd been fairly regular, although I had no way of knowing if I was ovulating.
So with the move and canceling a much needed vacation and weaning a child who had no interest in weaning (breast feeding can affect a woman's fertility) and the logistics of treatments with a toddler, I was severely stressed and depressed. And I knew that when July 15th came around, at some point in the day, I'd find myself in the shower, crying.
On the evening of July 13th, I mentioned to my husband that I 'was late', but since my cycles were always erratic, I wasn't particularly worried or excited. He said he'd go to the pharmacy the next day and get a home pregnancy test. I smiled and nodded and decided to humor him. See, one way many of us cope with infertility is at some point we accept the fact that if we want to have children, we need the extra help of medical professionals. The idea of getting pregnant 'on our own' stops entering our minds because the hope and then disappointment is often too much to bear.
It is recommended to use 'first morning pee' for these tests so I figured July 15th would be the day I find out that once again, I'm simply late.
At 3 a.m. The 14 month old woke to nurse and afterwards, since I needed the bathroom, I took the test. If I had known it would be positive, I would have waited and I would at least have gotten 3 or so more hours of sleep. I refused to believe the plus sign. I couldn't wrap my head around the plus sign. In a daze, I woke my husband up (sort of) and told him I took the test and it was positive. He mumbled something about being good news and rolled over and went back to bed. At first I wasn't sure if he'd heard me. I simply got back into bed and tried to sleep and tried to process the news and failed miserably at both.
Needless to say, I canceled the appointment with the fertility specialist and made an appointment with the OB.
And at some point on July 15th, I found myself in the shower crying. In shocked happiness.
Here we are to this summer. In addition to a yummy toddler, I'm nursing a delicious almost 4 month old. Once again we've had to cancel our summer plans to go to the US because the landlord's family is miserable where they are and they're moving back. So after a few minutes of panic, I went online and after a harried 2 weeks search, we signed a TWO YEAR lease on a pretty little row house duplex. For less than what we're paying now. Ironically, this year we're moving on July 15th.
I wonder what August 4th will bring this year... You can be sure I'll be playing the lotto that day.
