My husband and I decided a month ago that we should start trying to have another baby. I don’t know if my reason for wanting another child is one that people will understand, especially because it sounds pretty awful and not lovey-dovey enough, but my feelings are my feelings. Actually the idea of having another baby around freaks me out and fills me with anxiety (especially when I think about my daughter’s Colic when she was an infant), and having a 24-month old running around while a new baby is here just seems disastrous. I want to have another baby now to get it over with. There I said it. Does that sound horrible? I’m an only child and always thought I would be perfectly fine with having just one child. But since the time my dad died 6 months ago, I changed my mind on the issue. It was really hard for me to go through my dad’s death basically alone. I had no siblings to cry with, I had to put up a strong face for my mom, and recently my mom told me she did her will and I’ll have to handle all the paperwork stuff, power of attorney, etc. when she passes away, all while going through the grief. That’s not something I want to even think about, especially trying to figure all that out by myself, without any siblings to help me through it. Plus, currently my daughter has a small family, and once my mom and in-laws pass away, she’ll have nobody. She has no uncles, she has only 1 aunt who still lives at home and is incapable of being a productive member of society, and she will never have any cousins. I don’t want my daughter to be alone once my husband and I pass away. So that’s why I want to have another child.

I’m 32 now and I’d like to have a baby before 35, so I thought we better start trying now because I had pregnancy issues in the past, so it could take awhile. Well, one month later I felt super sick, like I had food poisoning. I couldn’t even stand up without feeling like I would vomit everywhere. I had just gone to a restaurant 2 days earlier for Mother’s Day, so I thought for sure it was food poisoning. But 2 days after feeling that way, it went away on it’s own without vomiting, so I thought something was up. I took a pregnancy test and immediately it was positive. I was ecstatic and couldn’t believe it happened so fast! This was how it was with my first pregnancy- the one that miscarried- I got pregnant within 1 month of trying. After the miscarriage  it took me almost 2 years to get pregnant with my daughter.

Now, because my menstrual cycle is FUBAR (f*ed up beyond all recognition), I knew there would be a problem with dating this pregnancy. Since having my daughter, I’ve only had 4 periods because I breastfed, and they were all wide apart: 35 days apart, 39 days, 40 days, and the last period I had on March 31st was a whopping 49 days from the period before that. They say “normal” is around 28/30 days apart. Not so for me. Well my first prenatal appointment was today, and I explained about my irregular periods and that I didn’t know how they would date it. They used the March 31st date anyway, and said that that would mean I’d be about 8 weeks now (if I had a normal cycle). They then did a vaginal ultrasound, and it showed there was only a gestational sac and yolk sac so far. The doctor (who I love), told me not to worry because it’s probably still too early since my cycle is weird, and that he remembers my history, so he knows I’m scared. This is how my miscarriage happened the first time–they did the ultrasound and only saw a sac, so I had to have lots of bloodwork done over the week and a few ultrasounds, and they determined that I was not progressing so they told me it was a miscarriage and I had to get a D&C (Dilation and Curettage). My stomach is in knots now. I really didn’t think it was possible for this to happen again. A few weeks ago someone in my Mom’s Group told me a story of how her son was almost “aborted” so to speak, because they told her there was only a sac and no heartbeat/baby, and on the day of her D&C surgery, they did one last ultrasound to make sure nothing grew, and sure enough, there was a heartbeat. So her son wouldn’t be here today if they didn’t do that 2nd ultrasound. They dated her wrong. That story gives me hope that it’s probably just too early, and that even if there isn’t a heartbeat next week when I have to go back to the doctor, I’ll just tell them I’m going to wait for everything to play out naturally instead of getting a D&C. Maybe it will make a difference. Two days from now (Thursday) I have to get my bloodwork taken to see if my hormone levels doubled, and I also have to schedule a dating ultrasound at this place that has a good machine. Then I have another appointment with the OBGYN next Thursday. I’m not sure when I’m supposed to schedule the ultrasound for though…I’ll find that out tomorrow. Wish me luck. I’m terrified.

I’m an only child. I was never a spoiled only child in the sense of material things, because my parents didn’t have a lot of money. But I received a lot of love and attention and never had the issues that I hear some siblings had growing up…like fighting over who gets the front seat in the car or who gets to sit with dad on a 2-seated roller coaster. I don’t know if those are real issues to most people with siblings, but they seemed to have bothered my husband growing up since he always lost those fights to his older sister. My mom was the disciplinarian in the family while my dad was the one who made everything better, even just by letting me cry in his arms after mom yelled at me. Whenever I wanted to go to a friend’s house for the day or rent a movie, his standard comment was “Go ask your mother.” And if mom wasn’t home it was always, “Sure, that’s fine.” I had a close relationship with my father and was definitely “daddy’s little girl.”

In early 2001, when I was 24, I found out that my dad had prostate cancer, at age 60. He had his prostate removed and received a lot of radiation and chemotherapy. Being the tough blue collar guy he was, he acted like it never bothered him too much. After that it seemed to be in control. A few years later they said that a few cancer cells might still be somewhere because his count was up in his blood. My parents did a horrible job at keeping me informed on his condition and the details–I don’t know if they purposely kept it from me or if they just didn’t want to talk about it, so I never knew  the specifics on everything. Well a few years after that his legs started to swell up like crazy and he would get winded very easily. One day he actually had a seizure because his blood pressure went up too high. It turns out that the chemo destroyed his kidneys, so he had to start dialysis- 3 days a week for 5 hours a day. In retrospect, I think that out of all his different illnesses/conditions, the dialysis is what ruined his quality of life the most. He basically became tied down to a dialysis center, so he couldn’t travel easily, and my parents loved to travel. He always wanted to go on a Panama Canal Cruise, and unfortunately only a few cruise lines offer dialysis on-board, and those that do cost you double the price of a ticket, so they couldn’t afford it. It always killed me inside that he never got to go on his cruise. After a few years of being on dialysis and a ton of other symptoms, he was diagnosed with lung cancer and heart disease and needed several heart stents put in.

I realized when my dad was first diagnosed with prostate cancer in 2001, that my time was probably limited with him, so I made an effort to appreciate every moment I had, and I always hoped that he would be able to see some of my “firsts” in life. I was so thankful that he was able to see me get married and walk me down the aisle in 2006. My next wish was that he’d still be around to see me have a baby. When I got pregnant the first time and miscarried right away (this is in my earlier blog posts), I thought I had lost my chance and it made the miscarriage even harder to deal with. Almost 2 years later I finally got pregnant again and I was thankful he had at least known that I would have a baby. You have to understand that in the past 8 years, he had been in and out of the hospital non-stop, and there were quite a few times that we thought he was on death’s door in the ICU of the hospital wing, so I didn’t know if he would “make it” to see the birth of my daughter. He did make it, and he visited us in the hospital to see his only grandchild. He was a wonderful grandpa to my daughter and always talked to her, played with her, and mostly loved to just stare at her and say how beautiful she was.

In September my dad started the Hospice program, and I took my daughter to see him as much as possible. She really was his source of joy, and whenever he saw her, his face would light up and he we get a huge smile. My husband and I are Halloween fanatics and we do our house up like crazy for it, so in early October, even though he was really weak and never left the house, he wanted to come see the house, so my mom packed up the oxygen tank and he came. He couldn’t stay long, but at least he saw it. I think he just wanted to see our house one last time. On October 9th, his 68th birthday, we visited him and I bought him an ice cream cake. Surprisingly his appetite was back and he ate his piece of birthday cake. It’s the little things like that that make me smile. On November 4th I turned 32, and on November 8th my daughter turned 9 months old. We visited my dad on November 8th and even though he was in and out of consciousness from being so tired and on really strong pain medicine, he managed to laugh and smile when my daughter did the same. As we were leaving he said “thanks for everything.” The next day he passed away, exactly one month after his birthday. Later on my mom told me that before we visited him on the 8th, he kept asking what day I was coming to visit him. I guess to hold out for it.

I am so grateful that he was able to meet his granddaughter. The one thing I’m really heartbroken about though, is that she will never “know” her grandpa. He was the nicest, most generous man, with an awesome sense of humor and I know she would have had a blast with him. When people think of my dad, they think of him as always laughing and making jokes, and that’s how I choose to remember him and what I hope to convey to my daughter about him. People say my daughter doesn’t really look like me or my husband yet, but I think she has my dad’s smile, and that’s truly a gift. I love you dad. 10/9/1941 - 11/9/2009

Once things finally started to slow down a little bit and my baby was actually taking a few naps, I had time to reflect on what was going on around me and in my life. My daughter was almost 7 months old already, I became a stay-at-home mom when she was born, and my past life was history. And I missed it. I had a B.A. and was very successful in college, I finally had a career going at a great company, and I was a concert loving girl who would go out and party with friends at shows throughout most of the North East part of the country…and Ohio once. (I once road-tripped from NJ to Cleveland to see a Live concert, and went back to NJ that same night because I had to go to a housewarming party by 4pm the next day.) I loved the adrenaline I would get from live rock shows and the feeling of truly living life and having fun. Now, I haven’t been to a show since I was around 8 months pregnant, and I miss it. Instead, I sneak in a few moments on the computer where I can catch someone’s YouTube video of clips of a show here and there. I try to pretend I’m there, but it doesn’t really work–especially when my baby starts crying to let me know she’s up from her nap. And -SNAP- back to reality I come. I do love and appreciate my new life, and I’ve also accepted it. It’s just every now and then I’ll hear something about a band or artist I love and then it makes me wish I could just go to a show. The reason I can’t is because I’m breastfeeding so I’m literally connected on a chain to my daughter who wants to eat like every 3 hours. I could pump a few days before and leave a bottle for my husband, but I am not bringing a breast pump to a show for when I get “full” from missing a feeding. I don’t think so. Can you picture me going to a show at Maxwells in Hoboken, NJ or the North Star Bar in Philly and trying to use their single-person bathroom for 20 minutes trying to pump? Oh and then carrying around a bag of breast milk during the show? Now that’s classy. haha. Plus, my husband would freak out if I left him with “the Diva” for that long, and unfortunately no one we know would babysit and stay overnight for it.

Since I can’t go to shows for the time being, I fill that void by singing to my daughter the songs I’d like to hear at a show again. Of course I don’t do them justice, but she doesn’t know that. She laughs and “sings” along with her deep sounding, off-key “ahhhhhhhh.” She always does that every time my husband or I sing. Our little harmonizer. As for milestones, she’s finally starting to sit up on her own a little bit, but we have to do the pillow thing where there’s a sea of pillows 360 degrees around her, for when she falls back or does a face plant. She is no where near crawling yet, but I read that only 50% of babies can crawl at 6 months and by 11 months 90% of babies can crawl, if they do at all. She’s a really big baby (95th percentile in height & weight) so I think she needs a lot more muscle to carry around all that extra weight. The one issue I can’t seem to find a solution for is her eczema and cradle cap. The eczema is really bad behind her knees and it looks painful and red, but the doctor says it’s not bad enough to give her medicine for it yet and to continue using the Eucerin Aquaphor ointment. As for the cradle cap, I keep putting the Aquaphor on her head, combing out the flakes, and washing her hair with gentle shampoo, but it’s still there. I’d love some suggestions if anyone knows of how to combat the cradle cap. I thought cradle cap was only a newborn baby issue, but apparently not since my daughter is just about 7 months old.

To think that about 9 months ago I was at an Ours show dancing and rocking out to “Live Again” and now I’m talking about combing out cradle cap flakes. Times do change, huh?

Throughout my entire pregnancy I used Palmer’s Cocoa Butter Stretch Mark Cream to try to prevent stretch marks. It worked, because to this day I still don’t really know what one looks like. The closest I’ve come to seeing one is on my husband’s bicep. Weird right? He has them right where the bicep meets the armpit. Anyway, after my daughter was born I was psyched and thought I would still be able to wear a bikini since I had no stretch marks and since the C-section scar was too low for anyone to see. I was wrong. Little did I know that even 3 months after she was born I still had that dark vertical line (linea negra) going from above my belly button all the way down to my pelvic area. That line didn’t even show up until I was like 8 months pregnant. (Even now, almost 9 mths after she was born, I still have traces of that line.)  Another pregnancy battle scar I have is from my navel piercing. I had it since I was 18, and from months 7-9 of my pregnancy I wore a maternity piercing that I got at maternitypiercings.com that was really pretty. But during month 10 of my pregnancy I was getting so many ultrasounds that I just took it out because I had to keep removing it anyway. Well, once the baby was born I pretty much forgot to put the belly button ring back in. (I was forgetting to eat, so there was no way I’d remember about my accessories.) Even though I had that piercing for 13 years, it closed up after 3 months. But I didn’t realize it closed at first because it LOOKED like it was still open, with a hole above my navel. So one day when I remembered to finally put the ring in, I tried and realized that it had closed inside and underneath. So now I have a scar there that looks like I have a hole - an ugly brownish hole since the pregnancy also made it turn brown, along with that line. Gross! All that work I put into preventing stretch marks and I got other marks instead. Not cool. I guess I’ll have to wear a Tankini next year.

Around 3-4 months old, my daughter’s colic FINALLY started to chill out a bit. Like I’ve said in earlier posts, without the swing and the 5 S’s I would have collapsed, so they helped a lot with the crying when it would start up, but I was thrilled that it was happening less and less. She was now letting her true personality show though, and it was pretty apparent that she really was a Diva. She has a nasty temper and is very vocal when you take away something she wants or if you don’t meet her immediate need (and she isn’t even in the Terrible 2’s yet!). She still does the banshee scream at the top of her lungs that turns a crowded room silent. But the positive side of this personality is that she’s really excitable, so when she’s happy that same crowded room will also know it. She literally squeals with delight. And she has the machine-gun/dolphin laugh that babies have, and it cracks me up. To sum up her personality, she’s either insanely upset and screaming OR  ridiculously happy.

Right when the colic started to end, she began having early teething symptoms:  drooling, gumming her hands, and crying a lot. Since she’s a really fussy baby, there was no question that she’d be one of those babies who doesn’t handle teething well. The one upside of having a colicky baby is that I was already used to all the crying, so it wasn’t really different for me. I didn’t want to use medications on her yet since she was only 3 months old, so we just stuck it out.

Another issue that was going on simultaneously was naps, or lack thereof. I began to try a very loose schedule with her of when I could expect her to nap in her bouncy seat, but it didn’t really work. She was pretty predictable of when she would get tired, but no matter how tired she was, she’d only nap 30 minutes. Oh, and at night she still was up to eat like every 2 hours. Fun times. Thirty minute naps meant that I had no free time whatsoever, so I still barely had time to cook, eat, or shower. I ran around the house like a mad woman the second she fell asleep, trying to get little things done here and there. According to Dr. Harvey Karp, the author of The Happiest Baby On The Block and founder of the 5 S’s, babies have a “4th trimester” which is actually their first 3 months of life. Now that my daughter was past the 4th trimester, I hoped that the eating, sleeping, & crying thing would work itself out.

My daughter’s colic was driving us crazy, so my husband and I would frantically run around the house to do the few things that would help calm her, if only for a few moments. The first thing we found that helped was rocking her while she was in her bouncy seat. We would bounce the seat with our foot constantly (she didn’t like the vibration option of the seat). The minute we stopped or walked away from the chair the wailing would begin, so we’d take turns. The other thing that would help a lot was me singing to her. Not just any song, though. It had to be “Meet Me In The Tower” by the band Ours. Is it a coincidence that this was the song I would always play to her using earbuds while she was still in my belly? Who knows, but this song made her stop crying instantly. Maybe it’s the high pitch “head voice” I would use while singing it, or the sound of the scale, but I like to think it was the song itself because my girl has an ear for talent. haha. She would sometimes quiet down from hearing the song “Dizzy,” also by Ours, but Tower was definitely the favorite for her. The problem with both of these “colic-solving” methods is that I would constantly have to rock or sing, otherwise she would keep crying. And I didn’t have any time on my hands as it was.

It was then that I discovered my favorite baby invention EVER: The cradle swing. I’ve heard people say what a great product it was and how I HAD to register for it while pregnant, so I got one at my shower. Even though most people don’t seem to use it until the baby is a little older, I was ready at 3 weeks. It was like instant heaven and I would happily put tons of money into D batteries if it continued to work as well as it did. We used the side-to-side cradle option of the swing, which she seemed to like best. This was the Fisher Price Ocean Wonders Aquarium Swing and it gave me the silence that I longed for. When she had to get the 1st round of immunizations at 1 month old, once we got home she cried worse than she has ever cried before. My husband and I were really upset and scared and didn’t know what to do, so he put her in the swing as a last resort. She instantly quieted down and fell asleep. The only issue with the swing was that it wasn’t a permanant solution since we couldn’t pack up the swing and bring it to a store or anywhere else because it wasn’t really portable.

I started looking online for colic cures, and I read that a lot of people swore by this one book, “The Happiest Baby on the Block” by Dr. Harvey Karp. I got it at the library, and I’m so thankful I did. He’s known for “the 5 S’s,” which are Swaddle, Side, Shhh, Swing, & Suck. I’ve read about a few of those methods before, but they never worked for my baby when I used each method individually. It’s the specific combination of them that brings on a baby’s “calming reflex” and the book explains exactly how to turn it on. It actually worked on my baby! So many people are turned off from swaddling when their baby fusses the first few times from it, but within a few days of it, my baby LOVED it. She would even put her little arms down straight for me as I was wrapping her. I liked using the pre-made, SwaddleMe wraps the best since she couldn’t kick out of it. The main reason I loved swaddling so much is that it allowed me to get sleep. For the first time ever, she finally slept 5 hours straight at about 8 weeks old. Before swaddling, she would have reflex movements where her arms or legs would kick/move, which would wake her up, so wrapping her up prevented this. I highly recommend swaddling, and I used it until my baby was about 4 1/2 months old. As for the “Shhh” step, I never realized how loud you’re supposed to “shhh” until reading the book. You’re supposed to do it REALLY loud, like a vaccum cleaner, which seems weird and counter-productive, but it works. Oh, and even though I was breastfeeding, I did use a pacifer for the “Suck” step since my daughter was nursing okay. (I actually started her on a pacifer at 2 weeks because I couldn’t take the crying and the pacifer made it more dealable). My only regret is I wish someone would have told me about this book sooner, like while I was pregnant. I may have gotten more sleep earlier on. The best thing about the 5’s, is that you can use them while you’re out and about. If you’re baby starts screaming at the store, pick her up and start swinging her back and forth (like REALLY swinging her) while Shhhing really loud. If you have a colicky baby, I strongly suggest you read the book and at least try swaddling for a week. If all else fails, repeat the mantra that I would say over and over again:  it’s only for 3 months or so and that’s such a small amount of time when you look at the big picture. It will be over soon. Good luck!

We didn’t waste any time introducing our daughter to live music. On her 2ndday home from the hospital, my husband treated her to her first living room concert, which consisted of him playing acoustic guitar and singing, with me harmonizing. He played a variety of alternative rock covers and a few originals, and I think it was the most captive audience he ever had. While in her bouncy seat, she didn’t take her little eyes off of him or the guitar. She seemed to enjoy the show, which for an infant basically meant that she didn’t cry. Haha. That evening I played her cds which included some of the same songs I used to play her on my mp3 player when she was in my belly. I figured it would be calming to her since it would be something familiar. Yes, who knew that Nine Inch Nails could be associated with calming a baby.  “The Frail” off of “The Fragile” album, anyone?

Over the next few weeks, my husband continued to perform little concerts for our daughter and she actually seemed to develop preferences. Besides liking the songs she was familiar with from hearing them in utero, she liked Guns N Roses’ “Sweet Child of Mine,” which is kind of funny because I hate that song. I have no respect for Axl Rose or his behavior, I don’t like his voice, his dancing, or his songs. So it’s a little amusing, and annoying, that my “musically groomed” child not only likes “Sweet Child of Mine”, but also “Patience,” and”November Rain” by GNR. My husband likes those songs, so he continues to play them for her. I think the only reason she likes “Sweet Child of Mine” is because of the guitar intro in the song. I guess it kind of resembles the sound of a nursery lullaby. Speaking of lullabies, she absolutely LOVES the song “Meet Me in the Tower,” off the album “Distorted Lullabies,” by the band Ours. Because of that, I haven’t lost faith that she will develop a good taste in music, like her mom. In a future blog post I’ll explain more in how that song saved my sanity for the first 3 months of her life.

The outcome of having two musical parents is that they tend to write a lot of songs about their life, which includes their children. So my daughter already has about 5 songs about her. But they aren’t real songs. They are jingles. Really corny, kid-friendly jingles. The kind that you don’t really want other people to hear you sing, but you know that it makes your child smile or laugh, so you sing them anyway.  I’ll embarrass myself by singing to her in public about her belly button or her Love Bug toy just to get a squeal. Maybe the true test of being a parent is being willing to make a fool out of yourself to make your baby happy. If so, I passed with flying colors.

A few days after I found out that my baby was breech, I had my final Childbirth Preparation Class. I felt a little defeated going into the class since I had spent the last 4 weeks psyching myself up for natural childbirth and practicing my Lamaze techniques, squats, etc. Ironically, the beginning of the lesson was about unplanned issues during labor & delivery and how we always have to be ready to “flip our cards” of what we expect or want. They briefly talked about Breech presentations and asked if anyone knew if their baby was currently breech, so I raised my hand. The instructor could tell I was disappointed, and she tried to make me feel better by telling me more about laboring positions that can sometimes help turn the baby during delivery. I didn’t want to stay breech up until delivery though…I was hoping to flip my baby around before that point.

The second half of the class covered the topic that all Middle School and High School students dread most in Health class: the delivery video. Only this was worse because back then you just said to yourself you’re NEVER having kids. Now the issue becomes real and you know you’re indeed having a baby and that everything you see in that video might just happen to you. Yes I did want my delivery to be natural (which was the case for a few women in the video), but what made watching it unbearable wasn’t the look of pain on their faces, or the graphic nature of the video…..it was watching the video WITH my husband. I don’t think I’ve ever been more embarrassed. There were about 10 other couples in the class, and only my husband was the one to squeal like a little girl, gasp loudly, make jerky movements, and physically cover his eyes with his hands. You would have thought we WERE in Middle School. The rest of the class couldn’t stop laughing at him. There was even a point when he kept repeating like a chant, “omg, omg, omg,” and he stood up and paced around his chair! Ah..I remember thinking that if this is foreshadowing to what the big day was going to be like, then I was in trouble. What a good coach, huh?

It was time for my appointment at the fertility specialist to see what they could do about my blocked fallopian tubes. I was nervous, but excited because I read a lot about this specialist and how he does non-surgical clearing of the tubes. Plus, I was going to a concert in Hoboken that night, so I was feeling pretty good. At the appointment they did more tests, blood work, ultrasounds, and he said that when my time of the month came (which was due in a week), I had to come in to get another Hysterosalpingogram (HSG). As I was leaving he said I was sitting in the “lucky chair,” aka the pregnancy chair, so that made me smile. I went to the concert that night and felt awesome. I had good vibes about this doctor, the vocals at the show were amazing, and I had my two best friends with me which put me in even a better mood.

And then the waiting game began. Why is it that when you’re trying to get pregnant you always hope that your time of the month never comes, and when you’re anxiously awaiting for it to come, it takes its sweet old time? I was hoping for it to show up quickly because I wanted to get this HSG and start the process of fixing me. (If this were a movie, I’d totally put in Coldplay’s “Fix You” right here.) I was now 2 weeks overdue, but that didn’t concern me because for the past year my cycle was totally messed up. You see, from using ovulation tests the past 6 months, I discovered that I ovulate late (around Day 20 instead of Day 14) and I even totally skipped a period 2 months before this time.  So I’m thinking, “Great..I’m anxious to try to get pregnant, and my cycle decides to skip another month NOW. Right when I’m trying to get this HSG done. Just wonderful.”  Some of my coworkers were planning on going out for Happy Hour one Friday after work, and I couldn’t wait to go and get hammered because I was so stressed from all the stuff going on. That Friday morning when I was getting ready for work, I thought that since I was planning on drinking a lot, maybe I’ll just take a quick pregnancy test so that I didn’t feel the slightest bit hesitant or guilty for getting wasted (nice, right?). Besides, I had plenty of tests laying around, so I might as well waste one for peace of mind.  So I took the test, jumped into the shower, totally forgot about the test (this happens when you’re used to taking tests just about every month for almost a year), got dressed, and then remembered about the test. I glanced at the test quickly, about to throw it out, and literally gasped out loud, because it was positive!  What the??? I remember thinking HOW is this possible?? I have TWO blocked fallopian tubes!! I was excited and happy, yet also doubtful and wary because the last time I had a positive test telling me I was pregnant, I soon had a miscarriage.

A week later, the specialist confirmed I was pregnant and everything looked good, and said that I could go back to my regular OBGYN because I didn’t need him since he didn’t do anything. I had later found out that the HSG itself can sometimes clear blockages, even if it doesn’t clear during the procedure. I guess for me the tubes cleared a few days later on their own. Or I like to think it was a combo of the HSG, my massages, my music, and my positive thinking. I was ecstatic to find out that I really was pregnant, and one of my first thoughts was how my unborn baby already went to its first concert, even if it was only 3 weeks old at the time.  Hey, they say you’re never too young for music.