9 weeks and 1 day. We did it, I still can’t believe we did it. 18 months. That was our amount of time to wait to conceive our first child.
We thought that cycle was a complete bust – super thin lining, refused my IUI, surgery scheduled to possible remove my “damaged tube”.
God said it was our time. He, and only He, gave us our baby. That I know.
We are the proudest parents-to-be in the world.
We think about you all the time, baby. We talk about you all the time. We call you Poppy – during your 4th week you were smaller than a poppy seed and it stuck. Your dad has purchased your crib, toy chest, gliding reclining chair, and more.
We saw your heartbeat when you were 5 weeks and 6 days old. You were a tiny little dot and the whole thing was pulsing. I cried when I knew you were exactly where you were supposed to be – the doctor had said you may have implanted in my tube, if so, you wouldn’t have made it. But, nope, not you, you went where you were supposed to.
We heard your heartbeat at 8 weeks – 178 beats per minute and gosh you had grown. We could see your head, your tail, your little flipper of a hand. Your daddy cried after hearing you.
You have made me very tired and very dizzy. But you haven’t made me sick so far, so thank you for that.
Your dad says your a boy, I’m undecided.
I just love you so much.