Dear Future Baby
Hi, baby.
I went running today. It was the first time I had run in two and half weeks, before my last round of fertility treatments. After our first failed IUI, I asked my doctor if running during the two week wait was a problem. He nodded his head and said that the bouncing up and down can be hard on an embryo trying to implant and that I shouldn’t get my heart rate above 130. The day before I started spotting during that first round, my period on its way, I had run 12 miles in warm weather. I guess that wasn’t good.
For the second round, I swore off running. I took walks with my usual running buddies and tracked my heart rate as I biked to work, making sure it didn’t past that prescribed threshold.
Giving up running is hard, but specifically this time of year. June marks the beginning of fall marathon training, and many of my friends were kicking off training cycles and completing workouts, all with that big October race in mind. It seems like everyone I know is preparing for a race. I love marathon training. I love the method and precision. I love deciding on workouts and weekly mileage. I love setting goals and plans. However, I do not love the super early mornings or the dreaded Midwest heat or the tough runs in which you doubt your ability to do this. But, those moments pass, and then you get to that big race day. You know it was all worth it.
I chose not to run a marathon this year. In addition to my school work, I put running on the back burner to focus on getting pregnant. I know that many, many women have got pregnant in the midst of high mileage weeks, but when you are spending thousands of dollars on fertility treatments, you are willing to make lifestyle sacrifices. You would be worth it, I knew. I could still run, just not as much or as far. Then, when you are a bit older, I would return to marathon running with my post-baby body.
When I missed running the last few weeks, and felt my chubby parts get chubbier, I thought of you. You were my training plan. You were my goal. You were my finish line.
You didn’t come this time, though. The time I took off from running was for nothing.
My doctor said it was OK to run between cycles, and so that’s the plan. Running today, it felt like I had taken two months off rather than two weeks. I started feeling winded before the first half mile and longed to be stopped at red lights. I even stopped for 15 minutes to try and take some action shots of me running (much harder than you would think). My pace was slow, and when I reached my desired distance, even though I was still a few blocks from home, I stopped.
Yet, it was comforting to return to running. It’s a known force in my life. I can’t always expect it to be fun or easy, but I can expect to gain something from it. Today I remembered how strong my body was, how capable and resilient it is. I remembered how this body had achieved so many remarkable things with running—from ultra marathons to run streaks to PRs—and that this body can be good at other things, too.
My period is on its way. I can feel it with the cramping in my abdomen and the heaviness of my breasts. Even though my period is a physical symbol of another failed month of trying to conceive, it’s forward movement. My body isn’t broken, rather going through the natural cycle. It’s preparing me for what’s next, it’s preparing for you.
My run and my period are not specifically spectacular things, rather, they are reminders of what it means to keep going. And, baby, that’s what I am doing.
Love you.
Mom
