My miracle

 

My husband, Mike, and I tried for a few years to have a baby with no success. When we finally had the money (or better yet insurance) to cover fertility treatment and I gathered the courage to go through the scary and emotional process we headed to see a fertility doctor.

After lots of testing and needle pricks we tried a cycle IUI. For those that have never done fertility treatment this is when they pump the woman full of hormones and take the sperm (which they do some wash to that makes it what I like to call super-sperm) and insert it in the woman to optimize chances of fertilization. The whole process requires lots of hormones and sonograms and blood tests to ensure optimal timing. The hormones add an extra layer or emotional struggle to the already emotionally draining journey of infertility.

Our first cycle of IUI was unsuccessful and at best disheartening for me. So we tried it all again the next month. Only the second month after they completed the procedure they told me it would likely not work and schedule for me to discuss an IVF procedure with my doctor. I was devastated. Mike and I decided we could not afford IVF especially if it could take more then one cycle. So we worked to come to terms with the idea of a life without children.

For me part of this process meant telling my family that Mike and I will be childless. So one day I went to my sister's and cried on her couch as I told her what I was working so hard to accept. I cried and told her why I felt a family was not possible for us and how difficult it made even happy occasions.

Meanwhile we had to continue with the routine blood test from our second IUI cycle to check for possible pregnancy. So a week after crying on my sister's couch I had a blood test and wouldn't you know I was pregnant! And there we were on the road to parenthood.

In the weeks following whenever I would tell people I was pregnant my mom would make sure I also shared how the doctors told me this wouldn't work. I never really knew why she always insisted on telling this part but it did one thing for me. It made me feel more and more that my son was a miracle. Maybe this was my mother's intent I don't know. What I do know is that this feeling has helped me to truly treasure my son even when it's tough.

Lately I've been thinking about how my difficulty conceiving helped me to be prepared to cope with our recent challenges. When Conor was in the hospital before Christmas I reminded myself a lot that he was a miracle and that certainly helped my faith that things would be alright. (For those concerned we have no real answers on what's going on with Conor but a long list of doctors appointments to help find out. I imagine that partly why I wanted to start this blog is to help myself process the feelings that come along with figuring out how best to help my child).