When Three Became Two

You tend to want a family the same size as the one you grew up in.  I have one sister, and my husband has both an older brother and a younger sister.  The funny thing is that I was the one who wanted to have three kids, while he seemed to be more comfortable with the idea of two.  I say seemed because this was back before we even had one.  You know, back when we had dreams of what our family would look like.  Everything is ideal during that stage, when you aren't constantly breaking up sibling squabbles and pulling out your hair when you hear "But Why?" for the 127th time that day.  So yes, I was dreaming of three little mini-me's or mini-he's running around around our 3 bedroom home with a backyard and expansive kitchen.  That last part was also a dream, and I will admit it still is.  We just aren't there yet.

My hopes started to become a reality when we became pregnant with our first child.  Our little man.  Everything was going smoothly, and I was feeling great with no morning sickness to speak of.  But sometime around 17 weeks I went in for a normal OB visit, and they found sugar in my urine.  Side note: far things are quite as glamorous as peeing in a cup, let me tell you.  They sent me in for the 1 hour glucose test.  Which I failed.  I then had to do the 3 hour glucose tolerance test.  Which I also failed.  I remember standing in the hallway outside the lab at work, trying to listen to my doctor tell me what steps I would have to take next.  Long story short, I had gestational diabetes.  At this point, I was still terrified of needles, so I did everything I could to limit my carb intake and keep my glucose readings down just to avoid insulin injections.  And I did it! Being pregnant and diabetic though...not a load of fun.  You never get to give into the cravings when you are counting exactly how many grams of carbohydrates are in 1 serving of crackers.  But we survived, I gained only baby weight, and Aaron was a perfectly healthy newborn.  Check one for the dream family.

Those first few days with our new son were tiring and new, just like any new parent would expect.  Around day 5 after the delivery I started having a pain in my right leg near my shin.  I stayed up late that night researching what it could be.  Bad idea, I know, but in this instance it was the best thing I could have done.  That next morning I called my family doctor to try and schedule an appointment.  They said they were booked for the day and then asked why I wanted to be seen.  When I mentioned that I thought I could have a blood clot they found a way to fit me in within the hour.  Five hours, 1 doctor visit, and 1 ultrasound later I was diagnosed with a DVT.  I had a clot in my lower leg and up near my groin.  I now was given a box full of blood thinners that I had to inject, and a prescription for others to take orally for the next 6 months.  So not only was I a brand new mom with a six day old baby, I was a new mom who now had to navigate multiple days a week of blood testing in the midst of caring for a tiny human I had just met.

Those six months passed, and two years after the birth of our boy we were pregnant again with our daughter.  We had a new doctor now, and when they learned about my blood clot they asked if I had been tested further.  I said no, as my previous doctor had assumed I clotted because I just had a baby.  Well, a few more vials of blood later, and I discovered that I have thrombophilia.  Factor V Leiden to be exact.  No one in my family history has ever had this to my knowledge but it is genetically linked, so I just happen to be the first special one to be diagnosed.  I am lucky to have been on birth control for those few years before kids and not have any complications.  Anyways, this new found diagnosis meant that I would have to inject blood thinners for the duration of my pregnancy as well as a few months postpartum.  There's nothing quite like toting around a syringe in your purse while out and about at Disneyland.  My fear of needles soon became a thing of the past, and I was just concerned with keeping me and my little girl safe.  Oh, on top of this I was also diagnosed with gestational diabetes for the second time.

The Lord heard my prayers, and we got to delivery day without complications.  My girl was born quickly, and my body healed just the same.  Check two for the dream family.

While our daughter was still a baby, my husband and I decided that she would be our last.  Part of me still longs for #3 and misses holding a tiny newborn against my chest.  But the risks aren't something we want to mess with.  Yes, we trust that God would see us through as he did with our other two pregnancies, but we know more about my health now than we did back in our dreaming days.  I would rather be healthy for the two blessings that we have, than risk that for the potential of a third.  Sometimes dreams are just that.  Our dreams of three turned into our reality of two, and we are beyond thankful.