This memory was sparked by a recent phone call from a very dear friend. She called to inform me that once again the month had come and gone without her managing to somehow align all of the forces of the universe and get pregnant. Six years ago when she and her husband decided (okay, she decided) that it was time to start a family, she was pregnant within three months. Now, almost two years into trying again--nothing. Our lives--at least the reproductivity parts of our lives--seem to have flip-flopped.
October 2004...I just wasn't feeling good. It was like a bug I simply couldn't shake. I was missing meetings at work because there were days I simply could not get up off of the couch. It finally got to the point where I accepted the fact I needed to take myself to the doctor. Our very ancient, yet thorough primary care doctor set me up with an entire battery of tests. Full blood work, urinalysis and even a pelvic ultrasound.
Oddly enough, no one--including myself--thought to test for, oh, say--pregnancy? It just didn't cross my mind. Husband and I had tried for years to get pregnant with no success. Lots and lots of tears and heartache--but no baby, at least none that survived past five weeks in my womb. Lots of doctors and various fertility drugs and regiments. Lots of questions. No answers. Lots of, "Well, maybe it's this...maybe it's that. We just don't know." Lots of guilt. Lots of blame. Finally, enough. It was enough. We quit. Having a baby come out of my body was not worth the price our marriage was paying. We found other things to focus on. Husband and I discovered that not only did we still like each other--we still really loved each other.
Regardless of circumstances, life moves on. Husband decided it was time to part ways with the military. I decided it was finally time to go back to school and complete the degree I had started years before. We moved cities when Husband was hired by the police department here and I managed to graduate college summer of 2004. Enough time had passed, wounds didn't quite smart so much and we started once again, carefully, bringing up the subject of babies. I felt emotionally incapable of enduring another miscarriage. We were now discussing adoption. I had contact numbers on my desk--ready to call once I started feeling better.
I received the call at work. My lab results were in. I had a cyst on my left ovary. I would need to follow up with my gynecologist. I cannot adequately describe what it feels like to have your world crumble with a single phone call. Prior to leaving the military I had had a portion of my cervix removed--pre-cancer cells had shown up so they went in and scooped them out. Now, it appeared something else was rotten. None of it worked anyway, so maybe this time they'd just take it all out. Fine.
That was a Thursday--I remember. Too late to call the girl parts doctor. The next morning I rummaged around in a box that hadn't been unpacked yet and found an old home preggo test--no idea how old it was or if it still worked, it was the second in a two pack. From past experience I knew that the first question out of the girl doctor's mouth was going to be, "Are you pregnant?" Since they very seldom believed me when I said "No" and stuck me for blood just to make sure, I was going to pee on the stick and give them definite proof that I was indeed not knocked up. So, I aimed and peed, set the stick on the counter and proceeded to shower and forget about it. Until I was half dried off and happened to glance down at the sink...
"What do you see?"
Poor Husband was simply trying to wind down after working all night and I stormed in brandishing a pee stick.
"In the little box thingie...what do you see?"
"I don't know...a couple of lines...why? And is that pee?!"
And there you have the most unromantic, un-thought out method of informing the love of your life that he is, indeed, going to be a daddy.
And the cyst? Apparently perfectly normal. Just most women don't have ultrasounds that early on and they aren't found. They did schedule me right away for another ultrasound--now that they knew they were looking for a baby.
Seeing that wee little speck, no bigger than a grain of rice, pulsing with a heartbeat we knew that one was going to stick and our lives would never be the same.
February 2007...Husband and Son had both been sick. Husband had spent several days shifting from toilet to bed back to toilet again. Then I started throwing up. And I never throw up...