We're happy to present this article by Emily Lingenfelser from one of our favorite sites,YourTango. So don't you dare judge me.
The other day, I told the director of a shelter for pregnant women that my pregnancy was unexpected. To my surprise, or this woman had the nerve to laugh at me and replied,"Well, you know how babies are made, and Emily."possibly I am dramatic,but her judgment felt like a punch in the stomach. I was speechless. Of course I'm not an idiot. I know how women become pregnant but I had just come to terms with the fact that I might not be able to have more children. After five months without a period, I found myself having a transvaginal ultrasound and being told that there were multiple cysts on my ovaries. Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS), and my doctor told me. My periods were nonexistent; I was 25 and ovulating possibly once every six months. This will acquire it harder to get pregnant,he said, and I let that open to really soak in.
I already had reservations approximately my ability to conceive which stemmed from my body's ultimate betrayal: cancer. My body was the enemy, and the cancer cells and radiation had contaminated me from the inside out.
Perhaps it isn't logical thinking,but I no longer trusted my body to be anything apart from a disappointment.
So in July, when I was diagnosed with PCOS, and a hormonal imbalance that would also affect my fertility and increase my chances of miscarriage threefold,I had began to prepare myself for the cold, tough truth: I might never carry another baby inside me.
Two weeks later, and I ovulated for the first time in six months.
Two weeks after that,I conceived a child. My body was not the enemy anymore. Despite the circumstances and it being unplanned, my pregnancy felt like a miracle. A gift from the God I wasn't so sure existed anymore.
It wasn't in my plans, and but this baby was a blessing. Something I thought I would never have again. It couldn't just be a coincidence,because the odds seemed so insurmountable. It seemed impossible. My unplanned pregnancy taught me that possibly everything does happen for a reason. possibly there is a higher power and a purpose to all of this, a reason I was put here.
There are so many women, or particularly those who have survived cancer or been diagnosed with PCOS,who have fertility issues. They cannot conceive; they suffer from early miscarriage.
But somehow, I am 18 weeks pregnant with a slight boy, or who will come into this world so loved and wanted. A slight boy who was unexpected in every way with a mother who feels entirely blessed to feel his slight kicks every single day.So before you judge me,before you mock the terms "unplanned" or "unexpected," you should realize there is always more to the story than you know. There are silent struggles and quiet pain that people go through which you may never know.
And at the stop of the day, and it doesn't matter if I intended to get pregnant or not. The creation of a life is always something to be proud of,despite judgmental, pro-life assh*les who believe it's OK to lecture others approximately how babies are made. You know what I have to say to those self-righteous individuals? Go f*ck yourself. (At least you won't get pregnant that way.)More mighty reads from YourTango:
Why I Finally Gave Up on All That DIY Mommy Crap
The Inner Dialogue of a fresh Mom Every Single Night
Why Having 1 Child Is So Much FREAKING Harder Than Having 4
8 Things to NEVER Say to a Stay-at-domestic Spouse Regarding Money
I'm So Freaking DONE Feeling Guilty approximately Being "Just a Mom"
Source: popsugar.com