Wednesday, December 12, 2012

The Story of A Boy Part 9: A Leap of Faith


The story of a boy….well, he was much more than that to me……
Part 9: A Leap of Faith

This is the 9th in the series. 

Before I begin; let me say that this post will most likely not be funny. And it might contain information that upsets you and not in the usual way with offensive language and politics…..but in a human, sad and guttural way. I may very well ramble at times and for all of these things: I am genuinely sorry. Please read Parts 1-8 before reading this. It will just make more sense that way.

William’s due date came and went……and it seemed to me that I was the only one that noticed. I was very, very, very sad……actually about mid-October I decided that I could no longer crawl out of the rabbit hole alone. I called the hotline that the hospital had given me~~ and digging out all of the hospital paperwork was like ripping my heart open all over again……I was reminded that I HATED the paperwork~ because all of the discharge instructions were written AS IF I WERE STILL PREGNANT.

At the time I was discharged I was somewhat numb and I remember being hurt and angry about it…and I remembered that it hurt me deeply…. and I remember that I had thought at the time that I should write a letter to the hospital and strongly encourage that they should have discharge paperwork specifically for mother’s whose children did not make it. Reading “please go to the hospital if you think your water has broken or if you have a fever or if you have contractions….blah blah blah”  was SO VERY VERY VERY painful…..and overwhelmingly sad. Well, I never did write that letter. It was just too much……it has taken me 5 years to be able to write THIS. I just didn’t have the emotional energy to take on the hospital.

Anyway~ I had already BEEN attending Empty Arms meetings~ but they were only once a month….and that was not often enough~ I needed to be able to talk about my feelings and cry and act a fool and have someone **really** listen. So I started working with a therapist and for the first time in my life I was put on antidepressants. Both of which helped immensely. The cloud of everyday crying and every night crying myself to sleep ever so gradually lifted. Don’t get me wrong: I still thought about William every single day…….and there were plenty of days that someTHING~ a memory, a thought, a hallmark commercial~~ would put me into a tailspin and I felt like I was going to be strangled to death with the grief…….but I was no longer paralyzed daily with grief. Life has a way of not allowing you to stay there for too long. I returned to my very full time job…..my DS at home was two and a ball of energy and love~ and he needed his mommy~ and I **did** the very best I could to be the best mommy I could during this time.

I still so desperately wanted to be pregnant again…..but the sting of the last IVF cycle (which ALONE could cause a nervous breakdown) failing….and the knowledge that this truly would be our very last attempt to have another baby….had me a little gun shy. We had two embryos left in cryogenic storage and DH and I had discussed that the cost and emotional energy to do another fresh cycle just was not within us. So this was IT. The pressure that put on me was nearly my undoing……..but we cycled for the last time and on November 27, 2007 we traipsed again to the Cleveland Clinic and for the fourth time we transferred two embryos. It was different this time…only one of them looked promising….both had thawed but one was not really multiplying. But rather than “dispose” of it….they transferred it to me.

The two week wait to find out if I was pregnant was quite possibly the longest two weeks of my life. I had the blood work drawn….I had no more sick time left~ so I had to return to work after the blood draw…..I HAD to be AT work when the call would come. Now when you have **this** much anticipation of the outcome of blood work drawn at 7 am~~ you have SUCH an anxiety about it~ the day feels literally like each second is an hour and each hour is a day.

At one o’clock I could no longer wait~ I knew the Cleveland Clinic had my results~ I feared that they had not called because the news was bad.

I shut my office door, sat at my desk phone in hand~ temporarily paralyzed~ and then I took a deep breath and I punched in the number. Again with the ~this is so and so and I am calling about my blood work~~ and the endless wait for the nurse to come to the phone….I could hear my heart beating a mile a minute.

The nurse who answered my call had known our story. She knew what we had been through and she knew this was our last shot. She asked me if I was sitting down….my heart sank……I eeked out ‘yes’.

She said “please don’t be alarmed but your beta HCG (the pregnancy hormone) is 1,040. Now don’t panic…..it does not mean that both embryos took”. I said wait, what? She said the three sweetest words I could have imagined “you are pregnant” and I thought I might pass out from the relief……and I sat in my office chair and I wept ~ tears of relief and joy, I wept.

Coming next: The Legacy Begins





1 comment:

  1. I cannot express just how many tears I was holding back-- We are strong, we have survived...everyday. SOme how, some way-- We are the survivors

    ReplyDelete