Marvelous Mommies

The other day I was reading the blog of a girl I have kept in touch with that I know from the Nest boards. On her blog, she has a blogroll of a whole bunch of girls that had been frustratingly trying to get pregnant for as long as I had. Most of us had gone through temping, charting, IF testing, and into treatments of varying degrees with different amounts of success. When I got pregnant, I kind of distanced myself from that old group, not quite feeling like I fit in anymore once I had gotten pregnant. Between feeling sick all evening when I was home and going to bed early, I just didn't have time. I used to keep up with all of those blogs, and had just simplified my blog reading for the same reason.

Out of curiosity earlier this week, I clicked through all of the blogs on her list. Pregnant. Pregnant. Mommy. Pregnant. Mommy. Still trying.

I met so many women online who were going through the same feelings of inadequacy that I was, who were struggling with bodies that failed them. Women who refused to give up. Women who cried month after month, or who got angry and bitter. Women who finally got pregnant, celebrated and then miscarried. We watched women who weren't even trying get pregnant by accident. There were girls who went to their doctor, did unmonitored Clomid, and they were pregnant. And then there were the rest of us, who got those depressing odds, those visits to the RE that make the possibilities sound less and less likely.

And now so many of us are mommies, or about to be. Does it make you a better mommy to have gone through IF? I tend to think it is. If you haven't struggled, if you hadn't cried for the wanting, hadn't gone through the emotional battle with yourself and your husband, do you appreciate it like those of us who did? Can you look at your child, or your children, and know that they had been wanted more than anything in the world? I can't help but think that these children of IF are lucky. They have mommies that have already fought battles for them, who waited for them, who had months or years to plan what it would be like. Mommies who worried through every step of their pregnancy, who were scared as much as they were joyful, who appreciated the gift they had been given, even while their bodies were uncomfortable or painful or sick.

I don't know if I always appreciate it like I should. I'm tired, I get frustrated with BF, or I get upset with myself when one or both of them are crying and I can't fix it. But for whatever reason, this week I have been thinking back about those girls in the trenches, the ones who made it through, and the ones who are just about to pass from Infertile Pregnant girl, to Mommy. Marvelous Mommies.

We're coming up on milestones in my house. One year ago today was the day I started stims. Marvelous Mommies gave ourselves shots in the stomach. I had recently set up my new calendar for this year and ran across all the information from our IVF cycle. This is the day that my eggs started to grow.

Last night I had a moment, and I promised that in this blog, I would write about my moments. The first few weeks the babies were here, and in particular while we were in the hospital, I really felt like a milk machine. We had so much help, which was wonderful, but it made me kind of the girl in the background pumping while other people held them, fed them bottles and snuggled them. I knew I was their mommy, but anybody would do to comfort them or feed them. Since Andy has been home with them since they were born, my kids are just as bonded with him as they are with me most of the time. Even if they are fussy with Grandma and Grandpa, usually Mommy or Daddy will do.

Last night, Andy had come upstairs with Ben. He had a bottle for him since nursing hadn't quite filled him up. I was downstairs with Maggie. Ben started crying, and crying, and wailing and after a few minutes of it not getting better, I thought maybe Andy had fallen asleep or gone to the bathroom, but when I came upstairs, there he was holding him, bouncing him, trying to give him the bottle with no success. I set Maggie down, took my son, and he snuggled up on my shoulder and stopped crying.

He needed his mommy. He needed ME. Not just he needed to nurse, or he needed someone familiar, but he wanted me. I felt a little like a superhero.

My daughter just woke up. Last night, I got her to nurse for approximately 3 minutes. I'll take it. I know she smiles at everyone sometimes, but I think she smiles the most for me. Last night she could barely eat for all the smiling she was doing at her Mama. And Mama melted.

This morning I woke up feeling like a Marvelous Mommy. I hope that all of my infertile sisters can feel the same way, if not this morning, but some morning soon, when the struggles will all be worth it. Because when you have these moments, when you feel like a superhero. . . .it makes it all worth it.