Reproductively Challenged yet Never Convicted - Beginning Of The End

"The fetus is no longer viable" my doctor said hesitantly after what seemed like an eternity of moving the Doppler around on my swollen 36-week pregnant stomach. I already knew. Before he said anything, I knew. It was the ultimate deja vu moment; my own recurring nightmare that was all too real - now for the tenth time.

My perfect baby boy who I had imagined would surely have my husband's eyes, my quirky smile, walk early, talk incessantly, go to college, have a heart for humanity and solve world peace, was no more. With one swipe of a medical instrument, my tenth baby, my precious son, was now merely labeled a "non-viable fetus". He was gone...and for the most part, my sanity was gone as well.

This pregnancy was different. My previous pregnancies were riddled with clomid, progesterone, HCG injections, weekly if not daily ultrasounds, blood work, steroids, inseminations, bed rest, quirky natural "remedies", etc. etc. You name it; it was done. Nothing worked. Not only had I prayed for the lives of my babies, but repeatedly sought God's mercy to remove my desire for a child if it was not His will. My sanity was waning and I honestly believed that my life (or lack of) depended on an answer. The desire remained and my husband and I began to question the level of intervention we had embarked on to have a child. Were we doing too much? Too little? Were we taking God out of the picture and not allowing Him to provide our ‘miracle'? After all, the Bible clearly describes how He gave Sarah a baby when she was like a million years old (slight exaggeration), so surely I qualify? We prayed and prayed; and then prayed some more. Ultimately, my husband was the one who found peace with the answer. One more time, one more attempt. The difference? No intervention; no doctors; no treatments. We were totally and completely giving it over to God. Don't get me wrong; I do not oppose medical intervention and I strongly believe that God provides knowledge for us to ‘fix' a great deal of the mess we have caused on earth. Unfortunately at this point, medical intervention had done nothing for me. Not only was I unable to successfully carry a child to term, but after my 5^th pregnancy, I was no longer able to conceive without medical intervention. Go figure. Some would say... "Here's your sign", right? (Bill Engvall reference) Hmmm. So, we (my husband actually - but with my one remaining strand of sanity, I went along for the ride) felt that IF it was meant to be and we WERE in fact on the right path, I would have no difficulties getting pregnant without medical intervention. Sounds logical, right? I definitely needed a ‘sign'. Miracle #1. Two weeks later, I was pregnant! For the first time, I actually allowed myself to have hope. We found a strong Christian obstetrician that supported (or at least respected) our journey of non-intervention and my ‘normal' pregnancy began. It was not uncommon for my pregnancies to extend well into the second and third trimesters but never without progesterone, other required medications and usually strict bed rest for months at a time. Miracle #2. Perfectly normal pregnancy! For the first time in my life, other than the fear and dread that remained with me every waking moment of the day, I was NORMAL! I took long walks with my husband, exercised and had monthly check ups where I measured and weighed perfectly and listened to the strong healthy heartbeat of my own personal ‘miracle'! Our race was long and we were finally nearing the finish line! Family, friends, co-workers and even strangers who were now fascinated with our unfolding ‘miracle', anxiously awaited the birth of our child. Our doctor remained extremely cautious and to avoid any potential complications, prepared to deliver our baby via c-section. At 36 weeks, we permitted our first ultrasound intervention to determine if the baby was ready for delivery.

You already know the outcome. I began this story with the conclusion to avoid a sense of "dramatic build-up" and ultimate "crash and burn". This pregnancy, my son - the hope and excitement, the incredible thankfulness of being blessed with a miracle - and then the "life crash before my eyes" pain, remains very real to me today and I have no desire to inflict that feeling on any level through my writing.

On a positive note I want to say that God, in His infinite wisdom, blessed me beyond measure only five short (or very long) months later. I believe my sanity was scheduled to expire the next day so it happened just in time.

Coming up next...

Reproductively Challenged Yet Never Convicted - The Epidemic