Aint You Coming
It aint that easy getting knocked up!
Things won’t be that hard for me, or so I thought… I am a 26 year old woman who from a tender age of 13, when no thoughts of pregnancy has entered my mind, knew that I would one day have difficulty getting pregnant. I also knew that I would have about a 50% chance of ever having the honor. Therefore in the years leading up to the current, I mentally prepared myself for any disappointments that may come. See, I am the kind of person that wants to prepare myself beforehand for situations, even if it is just the monthly shopping trip. Thus I envisioned a million different scenarios in my head of what could go wrong (and right) and therefore felt emotionally prepared. How wrong was I!
My journey began in February, how fitting the month of love. Firstly I would have to take very expensive injections, apparently first made from old women’s urine, for about two weeks. Seeing that I am not to be trusted with sharp objects such as needles I entrusted the important duty to my Mother-in-law, a nurse. My routine would be to get up earlier than my body was used to and go by her house on my way to work so that she could administer the injection into my tummy. That was about the only time in my entire life that I had been grateful for the layer of fat covering my stomach.
After about a week I had to drive to the hospital to get a scan and see if the medication were having any effect. Now this was not your local hospital down the road. This specific hospital was a good hour to 3 hours drive from where I live depending on the traffic. To not spend too much time from my work, which is looking after eleven 8 year olds, I had to do this trip in the wee hours of the morning alone.
I would pride myself in being quite used to doctors looking in strange places and was therefore not too nervous for this visit. Though priding oneself in that fact was probably a bit sad. The fertility clinic, I found out, worked like a well oiled machine. Receptionist and nurses prepared you to see the doctor for about 10 minutes. What the doctor (a man old enough to be my father) then basically does is to stick … or shall I say put a tube with a little camera thing up my “you know what” to check for any signs of eggs. Low and behold there were two tiny specs on the monitor, or so he said because hadn’t a clue what was going on in the picture. A combination of being distracted by “tuby” camera things up my “you know what” and the inability to distinguish anything in the grey-mass like picture left me not seeing anything.
So the little fire of hope was started and my mind already started to prepare me for the days ahead. I have the uncanny ability to jump the gun totally and therefore was already picking out names in my head. I was sent home with more expensive injections and told to return a few days later.
Now If you could imagine the difficulty of explaining my leaves of absence to a very male boss then you could imagine that standing in his office every few days to ask for leave was quite difficult. But nonetheless I arranged it and went back.
This time the eggs had grown but was not quite as large as it was supposed to be yet and so we went on with the needles I came to know so intently. At least I was growing quite a strong bond with my mother in law who saw her part in this of great importance, even making sure to time her mixing the medication to utter perfection.
Going back to the hospital had my hopes quite high. I was expecting to be the told my eggs were now big enough and that I am ready to start being fertile. The doctor told me that my eggs still had not grown to the corrects size and that we would try one more time but that we should then abandon our first try. The flicker of flame, which had inevitably become a fire, had been given a good dose of icy water and I felt deflated. How could these two little cells suddenly get a growth spurt within two days? Going back I tried to prepare myself for disappointment without being negative, for I am a very positive person. And anyway I knew that God would bless me with pregnancy when the time was right.
To my amazement my eggs had gotten a growth spurt and was now big enough to continue its journey. The next step was taking yet another injection to make me release the eggs, basically ovulate. At this stage I would happily stick 20 needles in my tender stomach if it meant that I would have a chance to ovulate normally like other women.
Our act of fertilizing the egg would have to be timed perfectly and I had about 24 hours of being fertile. Therefore being a good daughter and daughter in law my family was quite up to date on this whole process, even when my fertile day was going to be. It is kind of strange having sex when you know that both your parents and your in laws know exactly what you are doing. No wonder they didn’t call us at all that weekend. People say that timing sex takes out all the romance, but hey, we are pretty uncomplicated. Therefore timing it didn’t have any effect on our lovemaking, we just like having sex for whatever reason.
Approaching this in a very scientific way, my husband and I devised different strategies in ensuring that our attempt would not be futile, although we would happily do it all over again, and again, and again. One of our strategies involved lying legs in the air afterwards so that gravity could help our little swimmers reach their destination. Luckily I knew my husband was a star swimmer in his youth and was sure that his offspring would have the same athletic ability. If my eggs had to swim we would have trouble, seeing that I can’t reach the other end of the pool without sinking like a rock. The other plan was staying away from any form of hygiene for at least the rest of the day – hey if your paying thousands just to be fertile you’ll go to great lengths to make things work.
Now it was a waiting game and I would be able to have two blood test about a week later. First I would have a progesterone test to check that I had ovulated normally and a week later I would be able to have a pregnancy test. The first result was positive, I definitely ovulated. Waiting for the second result was agonizing. I even persuaded the nurse who took my blood to let me know first.
That night she phoned me and told me that even though it was very early that I indeed was pregnant. Elated would be too weak a word to describe my state of mind. Now for me I thought that this result was like a machine you switched on. I was now definitely pregnant and could therefore phone the parents and all the others to tell them the great news. See I didn’t’ really believe in keeping things to myself. I was a firm believer in sharing joys and sorrows with all my friends and family. That night my husband and I went out to dinner to celebrate our new addition. He felt very proud of his little swimmers and I gladly stuck to drinking no alcohol or caffeine because I had the best reason ever – a baby was on the way.
The nurse asked me to have a follow up blood test a few days later, part of usual procedure. On the day of the second blood test I started bleeding and the blood test confirmed. In my mind I knew that life was slowly draining out of my body. Every time I saw the red color it was as though it was parts of my baby coming out. I felt depressed and empty. Why first go through the happiness just to be disappointed so brutally? To me nothing just happened without reason. I knew the Lord had put my on this path for a reason, maybe He was teaching me patience.
After being depressed and negative for a few days my husband and I picked ourselves up again and decided to instead by a house to keep us busy. A follow up blood test were to be done to make sure everything was normal again after the mini miscarriage. It was more difficult having to put a needle in my arm once again and knowing that it would bear no fruits but I consoled myself by thinking it would be the last time for quite a while.
The result of the blood test was not what I had expected. Once again I was pregnant. I felt cautiously happy, for about a hour, and then threw everything to the wind and became deliriously happy all over again. I had come so close to having the loss just to find out I had lost nothing at all. So we went on thinking of how we were going to navigate being parents to the bundle of joy coming when we acted like children ourselves most of the time. We were looking forward to being parents and using all the things we have learned so far.
Another blood test was to be done and it wasn’t good news. I probably coped better this time seeing as though I’ve done the whole process once before. One cannot hope for someone with a magic want to drop in and make everything okay again as I want it. That was just it – as I want it, not necessarily God’s plan for our lives. I had to teach myself not to keep on to hope that was not there, a pretty depressing thing to do. I had to feel the grief and acknowledge it before I could go on. For this wasn’t just a missed chance, it was so much more. It is as though I’ve felt a bond with my unborn baby already even though it was only cells scientifically speaking. My husband tried his best to deal with a negative wife going through heartache and grief. But emerged on the other side.
I decided to move on with my life seeing as though I wasn’t destined to be pregnant at that stage of my life. I made a mind shift and accepted what had happened. A month went by when only occasional thoughts of the whole ordeal came to mind.
Then I started feeling strange. Bloated and tired. I felt as though my body was trying to tell me something. I dug out my pregnancy book which I had hidden out of view to check these symptoms. Everything fitted quite perfectly. I couldn’t understand it but felt as though I needed to buy a home pregnancy test just for peace of mind. And there it was two pink stripes… I was indeed still pregnant. I calculated where I was supposed to be from the date of conception and it was a staggering 8 weeks! Immediately I thought of things that weren’t right. What If this was a tube pregnancy? That was a dangerous condition in which the fertilized egg stayed in the ovarian tube that if left untreated could burst and be very dangerous to the mother. I had 10 000 questions in my head and feelings of unrest because of not knowing. The nurse asked me to take two blood test 4 days apart to check if my value of a certain pregnancy hormone were rising or falling. The first blood test was positive and so I had to wait for the second one.
Out of pure frustration and not knowing I phoned a local gynecologist to help me answer some questions seeing as though my own was a very busy man and not easily accessible. The doctor didn’t have good news. It was one of two things. Either it was indeed a tube pregnancy or just a pregnancy of low values therefore not a normal one resulting in a baby. I didn’t matter therefore what the second test said I knew the outcome was inevitable. So, roller coaster ride, here we go again. It was the third time I had to go through this &%$# again. It was safe to say that I was utterly fed up with going through this emotional ride. I wanted to be pregnant of not at all.
Waiting in Limbo wasn’t my idea of fun. The second test confirmed. My value had risen but not enough for a normal pregnancy. So where am I now? Patiently waiting in Limbo … half pregnant …half not. Still hopeful.
About the Author
Aint No Way – Chris Brown (You won’t love me) With Lyrics
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