In the beginning...

Once upon a time, there were two people who loved each other very much and decided to start a family. According to High School health class, this should be very easy. Well, High School health teachers are apparently a bunch of liars.

After 8 unsuccessful months, we visited a super awesome Reproductive Endocrinologist named Dr. Hinton. Not ready to resort to the drugs, we just wanted to make sure that nothing was wrong. While we had been trying, many of our friends who started trying after us were pregnant before us and this made us a bit concerned. What was wrong with us? So after many tests and exams, it was determined that I had PCOS and while annoying shouldn't have been THAT big a factor in our infertility. So I cut back on sugar, increased exercise, took my temperature, peed on sticks, and all sorts of fun things to increase our chances. After we hit the year (officially infertile) mark, we started to feel desperate. Dr. Hinton suggested laproscopic surgery to rule out other possible causes such as endometriosis. Since I still wasn't ready to start taking drugs, I agreed. So at the end of October 2008, we had the procedure (which was WAY easier than everyone told me it would be) and were diagnosed with level 2 endometriosis, Salpingitis isthmica nodosa and Adenomyosis. All three things can contribute to infertility, but the doctor was able to remove the endo, confirm the tubes were clear, and felt positive that our chances should improve.

I knew I had 3 months of potentially increased fertility so I was totally going to take advantage of it. I continued to eat less sugar, exercised, took a prenatal vitamin, and did everything to increase our chances. If it didn't happen in these next 3 months, then in January it was onto the drugs. I had been using a website called 'fertility friend' to keep track of everything, and was going to wait to test on the actual reccomened 'test date' of November 30th. So after traveling for Thanksgiving, we woke up in our own bed on Sunday morning planning on testing first thing in the morning and then go to church. I was highly optimistic and fully convinced I was pregnant, and Michael was pretty convinced that he would be spending the day helping me through a soul crushing dissapointment. We took the test and waited...

I'll never forget how beautiful those two pink lines were.

I gasped and covered my mouth as my eyes welled up with tears. Michael asked what was wrong and I said, "there are two lines!" Michael looked confused so I continued with, "I think we're pregnant!!" We hugged, and cried, and were in total shock! After 16 months we were finally successful.

And so starts the saga of Baby Berglowe-Lynch.