Thank you, 2017

2018 is here. And man, 2017 was crazy. I mean, 2017 was crazy for a lot of reasons. We started the year with a very orange, under-qualified, toxic man getting sworn in as our president, but I won't even address any of that right now because I don't want to. Because it still seems too unreal, and part of me still wants to believe he's playing some really long, terrible, unfunny trick on everyone in the world. But I know he's not.

Anyway, 2017 was a crazy year for me and Frank. After three years of trying to get pregnant, we decided to try In Vitro Fertilization. It worked, and I got pregnant on the first round. I'm two weeks away from bringing our baby girl into the world, and I still can't wrap my head around it. I didn't know if I'd ever get here. I felt like maybe my body wasn't made for this kind of thing. Like I was broken somehow. It seemed to be happening for my friends and family members so easily. What was wrong with me? I was embarrassed, depressed, bitter, angry, and resentful of my own body's monthly failures. But I had let it all rest for a year, and I let go of the pressure I was putting on myself. And in March of 2017, we started the process of IVF. I injected my belly with multiple medications for nine nights in a row, made several jokes to Frank about being a hen, whined a few times, cried a few times, had eggs retrieved from my ovaries, prayed that our fertilized eggs would be healthy, got acupuncture, stopped drinking coffee and alcohol, ate mostly organic food, cried a few more times, and finally after this two-month process, I had a healthy 5-day-old embryo transferred into my uterus. My fertility doctor gave it a 70% chance of success. And then we waited. And nine days later, I went to the doctor for my pregnancy blood test. I was sure it would be negative. Compared to dozens of months where I convinced myself that I WAS pregnant, I didn't feel any different this time. Although, the night before my test, I felt a tiny quick pain in my belly; something I hadn't felt before. I didn't want to overthink it though, and I was prepared for the worst. Frank had a backup plan: we'd go wine tasting that weekend and get out of town. I'd drink all the wine and all the coffee, and eat all the cheese and nitrate-filled salami. I refused to do a home pregnancy test that day because I had gotten to the point of hating those things. They gave me nothing but heartache and disappointment. I had only ever seen one line, or a negative sign, or the digital words "NOT PREGNANT," and I couldn't do it anymore. Nope. I would simply wait for the doctor's office to call me with official results. When they did call a few hours later, I was shaking. The nurse said "are you ready for some good news?" and I shook even more. "Yes," I whispered. She went on to tell me about my positive blood test, and my head felt like it was on a balloon, detached from my body. I was in a dream, thinking the words "I'm pregnant" over and over. She put my fertility doctor on the phone and he beamed to me about the "strong positive." I cried and thanked him. Later that day, I took a home pregnancy test so I could see for myself. The first positive pregnancy test I had ever seen. Two little lines. I stared at it for a long time. Then I placed it in front of my dog and took a picture, in case I'd use it as a funny announcement to a family member. I never did, and I'm not sure if anyone saw that photo. But it was funny to me. That was May of 2017.

The rest of the year was filled with various pregnancy symptoms, planning/prepping for a baby, some travel, a few music festivals, and improv. I went through the three "core track" improv classes at the Groundlings. I started the program in March, so some nausea and exhaustion coincided with night classes that went until 10:30pm. And then I drove an hour home. At times I felt insane for signing myself up for this type of schedule, but grateful and happy to be doing something that fulfilled my soul and gave me a fun social outlet. I did that for seven months, along with bi-monthly shows with my all-female improv team, The Brotherhood.

There were many struggles and powerfully sad events in 2017, but for me, it was also a year of pure gratitude. I've never felt so grateful for nausea. For backaches, for cramps. For insomnia and restless legs. For being so tired that I feel like I could cry, which led me to make up the word "cry-erd." I've never spelled that word before, but it rhymes with tired, in case you're unsure how to pronounce it. I'm aware of how lucky I am that I get to experience the amazing beauty of pregnancy, and in two weeks, motherhood. I've felt my baby move, and stretch, and kick inside my belly. She gets daily hiccups, which can be annoying but also adorable. She is breech, and my doctor said it's unlikely that she will flip to the head-down position at this point, so I will need to have a c section, but I'm still so grateful. I get to meet her in two weeks, and I can't wait. Thank you for the roller-coaster, 2017. I look forward to what's next, 2018. Happy New Year!