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Warning: this may contain too much information.  Read at your own risk.

To make a long story short, I have polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS).  I've basically known since I was a teenager, but none of my doctors ever took it seriously.  This past year I finally made an appt. with a real gyno, just for an annual check-up.  I brought up my concerns and she ordered an ultrasound.  The ultrasound and blood work confirmed the PCOS.  I went on with my life.

At the end of January I was going on five months without a period.  I had always been very irregular, but had never gone this long.  I called to make an appt.  A nurse called me back and said, "so you haven't been taking the Provera Dr. Price prescribed you?"  Um, what!?  I had no idea.  And my appt. was the beginning of November.  Don't get me started on the doctor situation.  So I went in to see the Nurse Practitioner (after my original appt. with her got cancelled) and took the Provera.  I was supposed to take two a day for five days.  I took two pills and started.  We believe our (mostly) vegan diet contributed to this.  I had a 2-3 week follow-up appt. that was actually more like 4 weeks, with Dr. Price.  They called and cancelled and pushed it back another three weeks.  So that becomes a 7-week follow-up (and two cancellations in like less than two months).  To see if the Provera worked and where to go from there.  This was the first time I actually cried about it all.  It's hard to realize that your body isn't going to get pregnant on its own, but when the doctors start to fail you, it feels pretty hopeless.   I decided not to take the pills again, and to wait until my next appt.  Man am I glad I didn't take those pills again.

In March I started routinely taking pregnancy tests on Saturdays.  My boobs had been hurting, which really wasn't an indication of anything, since I'd had all kinds of symptoms before.  For the past six months or so I went through cycles of symptoms that meant a) I was ovulating, b) I was about to menstruate, or c) I was pregnant.  Unfortunately, it was always d) none of the above.  After more than nine months of negative tests, I wasn't really expecting much.  That first Saturday that I took a test, it was negative.  Jesse constantly reminded me that it can take a "normal" couple a year, but every month just felt so long.

The next week, I was surprised that my boobs had still been hurting all week long, but still didn't think anything of it.  Saturday morning I went to the Relief Society activity.  I actually spent a good amount of time explaining all of my PCOS problems to a few people.  I went home, Jesse and I watched Season of the Witch (which was Nicholas Cage-tastic!), and then I said we should go to the gym.  We had been eating a vegan diet for a few months, but I knew that exercise was where I was really lacking.  And with PCOS, diet and exercise are really the only things you can do on your own.

As we were getting ready for the gym, I decided to take a test.  It was the pregnancy test that came with the ovulation predictors.  I left it alone for a minute, and when I went back, I saw two faint lines.  I showed it Jesse and he said, "yeah, babe, it looks like you could be ovulating."  My reply, "that is not an ovulation test!"

I didn't want to get my hopes up and thought that maybe the test had been exposed to too much air or something, so I took another one.  And another one.  And another one, for a total of four.  And then the next day, I took one more, just to make sure I hadn't imagined the other four.

It's hard to see, but there are two lines on all of them.

This all happened about a week and a half before I was supposed to go in for my follow-up.  So I called the doctor's office and they made me an "orientation" appt.  Then I had my first ultrasound this past week and the doctor determined that I was 8 weeks and 4 days, due on Nov. 22nd.  Thanksgiving, and my sister-in-law, Kourtney's birthday.  Also, two days before my birthday, and a day before my niece's birthday.  So this baby is bound to share a birthday with someone in the family.

We originally wanted to keep it a secret longer, especially since PCOS can mean higher risk of miscarriage and high-risk pregnancy, but it was getting hard to hide.  I haven't been throwing up a lot, but I have been sooooo nauseous all day long.  And after the ultrasound, we felt good about it.  The doctor said our baby looks perfect and that he/she has a really strong heartbeat.

Ok, so much for a short story, huh?  Believe me, that was a condensed version.  Anyway, I'll leave you with a few pictures from the ultrasound of our little gummy bear. 

 This is the baby's back