Today I went for my first appointment with my acupuncture doctor since we tried to induce labor with the cub (it didn't work). I had gone to him before I got pregnant with the cub, having had two miscarriages, so that the third time I would definitely stay pregnant (it worked). Now that I'm having regular cycles again, and they're quite short again, and DH and I aren't specifically trying NOT to get pregnant (but not trying to either), I thought it would be good to get my qi back in line or whatever it is he does - just in case.
When we first started trying to get pregnant, we succeeded the very first time. We felt like pro's. Two months later I miscarried. There was no explanation or discernable reason; I just started spotting, which carried on for ten days, and then it was gone. Five months later I was pregnant again, and six weeks later that one also was gone. I was starting to feel hopeless.
When I had the second miscarriage, I had an image in my mind of my womb, and it was like a slippery, muddy slope. The baby (who I saw as an adult person) was trying to hang on, but they just couldn't. The shortness of my cycle wasn't enough to be out of the "normal" range by the standards of western medicine. My OB ran a few tests after the second miscarriage just to rule out a few things, and everything came back normal. I decided to try Traditional Chinese Medicine. I knew there was something about me that wasn't giving the embryo the chance that it needed to take root.
After a few months, my cycle was back to way it had been when I was 16 - twenty years ago. When I mentally imagined my womb, I saw a lush, green meadow. The next time I got pregnant, I stayed pregnant, and a little more than 9 months later we had the cub - all 9 lbs., 4 oz. of him. I really, REALLY hate acupuncture. I'm a total wuss around needles. But it's worth it.
Tonight we went over to a friend's house for a gathering to celebrate his 40-something-th birthday. There were lots of babies there. They were all walking except for the cub. Even the 10-month old girl. One well-meaning friend who has a habit of speaking whatever he's thinking without any internal editor asked me whether the cub, who at 14 months is neither walking nor talking, was developmentally challenged. If it had come from anyone else I would have been hurt and offended, but this friend is one of those rare people who is truly without guile. I laughed it off and explained to him that some kids don't walk until they're 15 months, and that the addition of a spanish-speaking nanny to his life would probably slow down his language development, and anyway boys are slower, yada yada yada. But the question stuck, and I told DH about it, and now we're both a little worried. Which I guess makes us normal, first-time parents. Of all the needles I've had to deal with today, the unintentional one stung the most.