So a few weeks ago I had mentioned that I had an extremely emotionally charged weekend. It had some major ups and downs and is going to change everything. And now that some of the information is out in the open, it’s about time I explained.
Friday, March 27, 2015, I called my dad during my fifth period planning period at school.
About a week prior my Aunt L had a stroke and heart attack that she barely lived through. She had been in the hospital up to this point in really bad condition. After she wound up in the hospital, my grandparents and Aunt D, who happens to be an RN, went down to Texas to be with her and her family. Of course, I knew all of this before speaking to my father. But the conversation we had was not a good one.
My Aunt L was on life support and was not expected to survive. At this point they were planning to have the discussion about taking her off life support. There was nothing more. Her fight was over.
My heart broke for my father and for the rest of my family. My Aunt L had a husband and two boys in college. We had been so close with her. We knew the outcome wasn’t going to be good when she originally had the stroke, but this was more news then I was prepared to handle. I spent the rest of the day in a complete fog fighting back tears. It was all I could do to make it through this last day of school before spring break.
I spent my drive home in tears and when I got home I cried to my husband. It was so unfair and my poor family was hurting. I was frustrated and sad and hurt. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that my Aunt wasn’t going to be around anymore. I had always been close with her and it seemed so unfair.
So in a fit of frustration and the need to have something good happen, I slipped upstairs and pulled a pregnancy test out of a drawer. And I sat in silence in the bathroom waiting. As the five minute wait period passed by, I glanced down and saw a faint line had appeared.
I have no idea how long I sat there and stared down at the little test strip trying to decide if my eyes were playing tricks on me. Slowly I grabbed it and walked downstairs, standing in the kitchen for a few minutes before calling to my husband. I handed him the strip and asked if he could see two lines. I pointed to where the test line was. He squinted at it and said he could maybe see a faint line.
But it was so faint. Maybe it was an evaporation line. So I said I’d test again the morning to confirm. And a little after 5am the next morning I slipped out of bed and retested. This time the line was even more faint, even harder to see. Maybe the batch of Wonfos I had were bad. Or maybe it was a chemical pregnancy. Maybe it was a million different excuses. But I started to lose hope seeing an even fainter line, and I slid back in bed.
I tried to explain the line to Rob all day. I went back and forth on the are we or aren’t we conversation a dozen times. I just could not wrap my head around the results. So finally we grabbed a box of First Response tests to try again and attempt to get a real answer. And within seconds of taking the FRER, two lines started to show. I opened the bathroom door and walked out, letting Rob in to see. There were definitely two dark, two very obvious lines on this one. There was no question about this test; I am pregnant.
We spent a few minutes celebrating and after the high calmed down a bit, the what now discussion started. And then I began to kind of freak out.
Because holy shit, I’m pregnant.
And as we talked it become pretty obvious what the next step was for us. We got in the car and drove to Syracuse to share the news with our families. Everyone was really happy and excited for us, of course. For my family the news was well timed. A small silver lining, a glimmer of hope and happiness in an otherwise dark and sad time. Within 24 hours all the tears of sadness and sorrow had turned to happiness and joy. So bittersweet.
Now that it has been a few weeks I’ve had a smattering of on and off symptoms that seems to include a lack of desire to workout. I’m tired all the time and my eating is all over the place. Either I barely eat all or I just want all the food. I just kind of all over the place. And the last week or so I’ve been completely sidelined with terrible all day morning sickness. Very exhausted and emotional and in a constant state of hungry-nauseous.
So what does this mean for Ironman Syracuse? Out. I thought when we were trying that I had counted out the weeks correctly before I hit register, but alas, I did not. I will be in my second trimester on race day and therefore not allowed to be on a bike, especially not for 56 miles. So I will be on site on race day to cheer my friends on and to cheer on my fabulous athlete Kristen as she crosses the finish line of her first 70.3, but there will be no finish line for me. And that’s okay. There’s always 2016, and many more years after that. IMChoo ’16 will still be a go as baby will here with plenty of time for me to recover and train properly. So that’s about where I stand right now. My season has reduced down to short running races, with the exception of Seneca7 which I managed to complete pregnant.
And now, to infuse a little humor into an emotionally driven post, a little diddy about why I chose my ironically cheesy title choice for this post. Enjoy.