What a Difference a Year Makes...

Summer break is officially in full swing as proven by the presence of naps and by the absence of grading pens. It is in the summer that I have time to do things like read for leisure, dabble with new recipes, get a little crafty, and get this: think! Now I have been known to over-think things a time or two, but this morning, my mind was really in a state of reflection. What spurred this reflection, believe it or not, was the routine blood work I just did this morning. For those of you who are or have been pregnant, you'll definitely know what I'm talking about when I reference the glucose drink. For those of you who haven't, I'll do my best to explain. The glucose test is designed to test a woman's blood sugar levels and ability to process sugars in the bloodstream. The ultimate goal is decided whether the woman is at risk for gestational diabetes as this can cause complications for the pregnancy. In order to check these levels, the woman is to drink a glucose drink (basically sugary flat pop) and then have blood drawn one hour later to see how the body responds to the excess sugar. Now you're probably thinking, "Okay, so what does this have to do with reflection? Get to the point!"


Well, nearly a year ago, I took this glucose test. Not because we were eagerly expecting, as we are now, but because we were currently unable to conceive. At that time, our fertility doctor had concluded that I had not ovulated on my own during the time he had worked with us and there was potential to believe that I had never ovulated in my life. Our doctor told I us that there could have been two causes to this issue: Diabetes or another condition called PCOS (poly-cystic ovarian syndrome). The glucose test would need to be taken to decide whether or not I was diabetic so we could move on with the diagnosis. It just so happened that on that particular day and at that particular time, there were upwards of five or six pregnant women going through the same test. So there I was, crammed in a tiny waiting area with a whole boat-load of pregnant women and me so desperately wanting what they had. Even their swapped stories about extended back pain ans swollen feet didn't phase me; I just wanted a baby. Quickly, that initial admiration and curiosity about these women turned into frustration and even anger. As they were sharing names they were considering or nursery decor ideas, I found myself judging these women. What's so special about her? That's her idea of an original name? I can't even have one child and this broad is having twins?! And as my blood continued to boil (both literally and figuratively - my blood sugars were tweaking out at this point), and I found myself releasing a few expletives in my head, I felt a single tear run down my face and knew that was the point of no return. I quickly ran to the nearest restroom to mop up the flood of tears that had erupted, vigorously wiping away at my face with those scratchy health office paper towels. I looked in the mirror and visibly saw how upset I was and knew that it all stemmed from fear. I didn't really hate those women. They had done nothing to deserve my internal monologue of mockery; it was my fear of never bearing my own children, of letting Alex down, of being so-called less of a woman that was burning inside of me. Flash forward. There I was again, this morning, sitting in the lab waiting room - 28 weeks pregnant and with no diabetes in sight. I was joined by a few other pregnant women and some that were not. Now, who's to say what those women were in the lab for, but I couldn't help but wonder and be eternally thankful for where I am today. Thank you, God for this incredible blessing and for seeing us through this trying journey. People have told me that having a baby will change everything, even how I view the world and those around me. Baby Carlson isn't even here yet and I can already conclude that this notion is true. What a difference a year makes :-)