August 22, 2020

Our pregnancy was not a result of this pandemic or quarantine. We are not having a “covid baby.” We are having a baby after almost a year of trying to conceive. We are having a baby after a miscarriage last year and an abortion 8 years ago. This was a planned and calculated decision, which I am truly grateful for, but of course, like most family planning journeys, it didn't happen as soon or as easily as we thought it would.

Recovering from my pregnancy loss over the last 8 months hasn’t been easy. You all know that I was blindsided by grief. My hormones were all over the place and I didn’t feel back to myself until around February of 2020. And then, like many women, I was left wondering if I would ever be able to carry a pregnancy at all. As Fer and I continued our TTC (trying to conceive) journey, I experienced several months of disappointment when my period came each cycle. The cycle before I found out I was pregnant, I called my doctor and made a telehealth appointment about infertility. I wanted to know - should I be worried? Am I doing everything right? Should I be getting tests? What are the steps I need to take if this doesn’t work? Luckily my OB-GYN is awesome and after asking us a ton of questions and reviewing my medical history she told me she didn’t think we had anything to worry about, yet. She told me I was doing all the right things, to keep trying, and if a few more months passed and nothing happened, we could do an infertility workup and go from there.

I had hope and we kept going. The very next cycle on the day that my period should have arrived I got a positive pregnancy test. You would think I would have been jumping for joy - elated even, but all I did was cry. I was terrified. I read in a book that once you have a miscarriage, the next time you get a positive pregnancy test the excitement factor is ruined. It’s more like, “Ok, there it is.” The truth is I didn’t want to get excited because I didn’t know if this pregnancy would be viable and I didn’t want to be crushed like I was last time. I held on to my secret for 3 long days, and then I told Fer.

He was ecstatic and we revelled in our moment together. But the excitement was fleeting. Those first few weeks were the toughest. Every day, and sometimes twice a day, I would pee on an hCG strip to see if it still read positive and to see if the lines were getting darker every day. It didn’t provide much comfort though, because each day was a new day and to me, that meant that it was another day that a miscarriage could be imminent. When I called the doctor to make an appointment to confirm my pregnancy they didn’t want to see me until week 8, even when I told them my last pregnancy ended in miscarriage. Four more weeks of torture until I will know if this pregnancy is ok?! How will I survive this? But I did, one day at a time.

As soon as I got a positive pregnancy I also began thinking about my actions. No more caffeine for me, no more lunch meats or sushi. And I also had to decide how hard and to what capacity I would be working out. I am used to doing intense CrossFit workouts 5-6 days a week. Just a few days after my positive test and telling Fer, I was set to perform the Memorial Day workout Murph - which is a grueling, hour-long or more CrossFit workout that usually includes wearing a weight vest. All I could think about was my miscarriage last November. The morning of that day, I did a CrossFit Open workout, and it was in the gym that I first started feeling the heaviness of cramps and knew something wasn’t right. I couldn’t help but wonder, should I be doing a workout like Murph being pregnant?

Eventually, I had to make a decision and go with the knowledge that I had. I know my miscarriage in November had nothing to do with me, and it was simply some sort of genetic abnormality or other biological reason why this embryo did not make it. I knew plenty of women who crossfitted their entire pregnancies. I went ahead and did Murph with modifications - I did ¾ of Murph RX and did not wear my weight vest. Since then, I’ve been lifting lighter and using programming like BirthFit to help guide me.

As you can see this pregnancy has been filled with anxiety, and because we are in the middle of a pandemic it didn’t stop at working out and using pee strips to confirm my pregnancy for weeks. During the week of my first scheduled ultrasound (week 8) several people at my gym tested positive for Covid-19, and at the same time, Fer started not to feel well. I stopped going to the gym and Fer immediately went and got a Covid test, but because he was waiting for his results he was not able to be with me at our very first ultrasound for our baby.

Fortunately, we did FaceTime during it as he waited in the car. Walking into that ultrasound room, my heart hadn’t raced like that since I was on stage last year trying to speak. I immediately told the ultrasound tech that I was extremely nervous because the last time I was in this room I did not get good. Cue the crying. But this time it was good news. There was a tiny embryo in my uterus dancing around on the screen. My pregnancy was confirmed, healthy and viable.

I felt relief at this first ultrasound, but it didn’t last long. I counted down the days and weeks one by one, through nausea and vomiting, until I hit 12 weeks when the chances of miscarriage drastically decrease. But even after that, the anxiety hasn’t stopped. It seems like there is always something else to worry about on this pregnancy journey. At 12 weeks we got genetic testing done and bloodwork. Until we received the results, I was left in deep thought about what we would do if there was something fatally wrong, or some other genetic condition that we would need to deal with or prepare for.

A week later we received the news that our baby was low risk for everything and that he is a boy. When we received that call Fer and I were in a hotel in Islamorada on a staycation. It was about 9:00 AM and Fer was still sleeping. I recognized the doctor’s number and answered immediately, again with my heart racing. The woman on the phone happily reported our genetic testing results and then asked if I wanted to know the sex of the baby. My voice shook as I said, “yes please!” Moments later Fer woke up to the sound of my voice as I blurted out through my tears, “it’s a boy! We’re having a boy. And everything is ok.”

That was the first moment I felt like I could truly celebrate this pregnancy. I finally allowed myself to be happy and think positively about carrying a baby and being a mom. I stopped taking the pregnancy tests to reassure me, but my anxiety hasn’t lessened. Our next appointment is our 20-week anatomy scan and I can’t help but be anxious about what could go wrong there - he isn’t growing correctly, there is a body part missing, or an organ not working.

And after that? Then there’s baby movement. Is he moving or not moving? Is he moving enough or consistently? It’s enough to make you crazy.

The last time I was at the doctor we heard baby’s heartbeat and all my bloodwork came back normal. Yet I still cried in the doctor’s office telling her about all of this - my journey with anxiety during this pregnancy. If it’s not looking in the toilet for miscarriage blood, it’s worrying about testing, and during this time - trying not to catch Covid, plus worrying about my loved ones catching it.

It’s still hard to think about the outcome of this pregnancy - and truly prepare for me to hold my baby and be a mom - I find I am still waiting for the other shoe to drop. This mindset has plagued me for as long as I can remember. My mom says she believes it all stems from my self-worth. “You deserve this. You deserve to be happy,” she told me. I know she’s right, but how can I get my brain to follow suit?

I’m trying to use all of my sobriety tools because anxiety isn’t new for me, but this is the most potent it has been in a long time. Logically I know worrying does nothing and inventing scenarios in my head won’t stop them from happening! I try to find joy in the small things and I am grateful to have friends who’ve felt this same way who provide me a listening ear and a comforting word.

I know in my heart this is the journey that I’m supposed to be on and that no matter what happens it’s worth it.