in such a way to be a great dad for a boy. Even so, with everything on our plates, the whole concept had to be put on hold.
While the girls and I were in California pushing Addison's adoption forward, Lorelei begin adamantly talking about how she wanted a brother. Mind you, it was never a conversation we had around either of the girls. Lorelei was sure if she prayed, God would give us a baby. Not only a baby, but a baby from MY belly. Meanwhile, in my head I was thinking, "Maybe God will allow us to adopt a little boy". Especially since I knew the likelihood of carrying a pregnancy was basically zero. But, alas, she prayed and prayed. Daily. For months on end.
Once we got home from California and things settled down into a routine, the topic came back up between Christopher and I. I had begun to look into adoption agencies around our area and foster care adoptions. I figured maybe we would wait until Addison was four, then adopt a one or two year old boy.
The more Chris and I talked about it, the more uneasy he was with adopting again. Totally discouraging to me since we didn't have a lot of other options. Finally, Christopher said, "Babe.. don't hate me. But the idea of another adoption makes me want to rip off my own arm just to have something to beat myself with. Or even stab myself in the eye with a fire poker." I wasn't feeling completely differently. It wasn't that our adoptions were bad or that we aren't completely blessed and happy with them. We love that we've been able to adopt the girls.. what an incredible journey! I think the toll Addison's adoption took on our family though, left us feeling a little less than eager to jump back into another mess. Maybe I was just a little more up for the challenge than he was. But if we both weren't at peace with it, then it didn't have to be adoption. I felt confident God was going to do something.. somehow. Even if it means a path I had never considered or imagined. All I knew was, God meant for us to have a boy. And with Lorelei praying with such strong faith and expectation, I knew God wouldn't put that desire in her heart just to have her crushed. My faith, however, doubted the idea that it would be a baby from my own belly.
Finally, one day Christopher said, "Why don't we look into fertility specialists? We did a long time ago and we couldn't afford it then. Maybe now we could? Or we'll just pay for it for a long time like we have our adoptions. What's the difference?" I was shocked. "You're seriously okay with that? It's SO expensive and consuming. And invasive." I said. "No.. I said maybe we should look into it. That's all." was his response. Not exactly as hopeful as I wanted, but it was enough.
I began researching and researching. It didn't take long to find a doctor around here that was pretty renowned in the fertility world. It got even better when I learned that he was an Army doctor at our hospital here on post! I had no idea Army hospitals would have a fertility specialists and endocrinologists. I made an appointment with my regular doctor to get a referral to Dr. Parker, the endocrinologist. Despite what I had been told to expect, I had an appointment with him just a couple of weeks later. Being that he's a soldier, and it was the holidays, I was told not to expect a call back from his office until mid January. It was November at the time. I was beyond excited to go to the consultation and get the ball rolling and get in to see him much sooner than expected. I was exciting to actually sit down with someone and discuss the issues we have faced and what options we were looking at.
Dr. Parker's first words to me after he introduced himself were, "So... what can I do for you?" I said, "We want to have a baby." He confidently replied, "Perfect. We can make that happen." Before he had even opened my chart. Even though I knew his confidence was ill placed, it gave me hope that maybe we really could do this. After he asked a lot of questions and got all the specific details and chromosome numbers and miscarriage dates, he explained the plan. The most intimidating part was all the hormones I'd have to be on in order to force control over my ovaries and eggs. But, it was well worth it. I was sure of it. He then ordered about 18 different blood tests for me to make sure there were no other obstacles to tackle in regards to me carrying a pregnancy. Christopher was black and white. We already knew what we were facing there.
I had heard so many stories and done so much research on how expensive this whole process would be. The average costs incurred with something like this typically reach well into the multi-thousands. I was a little nervous as I walked into the lab to get my blood work done of what the cost of all this would be. I just jumped in blindly. Because he's an Army doctor and I had a referral, everything was covered 100%. Wow. I had done some research about the hormones I would have to take and per cycle they were going to cost well over $1500. And that was just for the injections I'd have to take. Not to mention everything else I'd be on or the procedure(s). Then I found out that our fertility clinic on post had a huge grant to help military families... which took the cost of the injectables down to $0. Amazing!! I couldn't believe it.
We hit a little bump in the road that I was honestly not expecting. We went into this knowing Christopher has a chromosome issue. But I was always told I was perfectly suited to get pregnant and carry fine. We sure had enough testing done early on with our miscarriages to know! However, now as we were stepping forward and gearing up for this process, I was diagnosed with PCOS (poly-cystic ovarian syndrome). So not only did we have the known issues to deal with, I had this form of infertility on my side to deal with as well. I was really discouraged, until someone reminded me that challenges aren't actually dead ends. They're opportunities for God to show His power and control despite the things we see as road blocks. And with that, my heart was back in gear and ready to go.
Then the tricky part came into play. Christopher was slotted for airborne school. Exciting for him, but not such great news for us trying to have a baby. I knew Christopher couldn't pass up the opportunity go to go. God had to work the timing out perfectly. And He did. I was able to start my injectables after he left, and things were perfect just in time for him to come back for the important part.
Giving myself hormone shots proved to be pretty easy, but boy did they make me sick! By the end of that cycle, before we knew if we were pregnant or not, I kept thinking, "I don't know if I can do that again.. We want a baby, but doing that again might be too much."
It's routine to have a blood pregnancy test about two weeks after the procedure. So we waited and waited. I tried really hard not to be one of those women who mistook every twinge as a pregnancy symptom. Plus, I was still heavily on hormone supplements, which basically told my body I was pregnant regardless. Every 'symptom' was easily explained by the hormones. Either that, or I was pregnant. :) I tried not to get my hopes up because statistically, odds were very very low that we would conceive on our first try. The only thing that didn't add up was the strong metallic taste I got in my mouth about a week and a half post procedure. That is only caused by a dramatic increase in estrogen, the one hormone I wasn't on. Pregnancy causes a drastic rise in estrogen.... it gave me hope!
The day before our routine blood test, I took two home pregnancy tests and they both came back negative. I wasn't disappointed so much as I was confused because despite the hormones, I really felt pregnant. I remember telling one person who knew about the whole process, "If I had to bet money on it.. I'm saying I'm pregnant.". And really, I was just dreading another cycle of injectables. I told Christopher the tests were negative and on with our day we went. I think we were both a little sad, but not devastated. Again, we knew the statistics all too well.
The following morning we went to the lab to have our blood work done, and then he headed off for work. Later that afternoon I got the expected phone call from Dr. Parker's office to officially tell me the results of my labs. The conversation went like this-
The nurse said, "Well, just wanted to confirm your results. It's a big strong positive and so we'll just need to you come back in on Thursday to retake the test so we can check your numbers."
"WHAT?!"
"Uhh, I'm just confirming your positive result, and we need to check your numbers in 48 hours.."
"WHAT?!"
"You're pregnant. Did you not know that?"
"WHAT?!? No. I didn't know that."
"Well, didn't you take a test at home?"
"Yeah. Two. Both said negative."
"Well, Honey, them tests are wrong and defective. You're definitely pregnant!"
I hung up and was in shock. Absolute shock. I KNEW I wasn't crazy!
Then I realized I would get to tell Christopher. We'd never had that whole, "Babe, we're having a baby!" moment. I immediately called him, and he didn't answer. At first I was frustrated, but then it dawned on me that I could take all day and make it a little creative. Who wants to have that moment over the phone?
Right away I knew what I was going to do. We had a deal from years ago that if he ever agreed to pursue fertility doctors, whatever baby we had he would get to name. Which, if you know Christopher and the ridiculous names he comes up with, you know how bold that was of me to agree to. I never thought it would come to pass, so I really had nothing to worry about. Until now. :) In that moment, I wouldn't have cared if he chose the name Monkey Underpants.. I was pregnant!
I went out to the store and bought a huge baby names book, a digital pregnancy test, and a gift bag. I took the test when I got home and sure enough, it was positive! I think my heart was still expecting to see a negative. I wrapped that up along with the book and stuck it in the bag together and waited or him to get home.
He texted me at some point while I was running around doing all of this to see how my day was. I said it was fine and asked about his. His reply was "Worst. Day. Ever." Usually that makes me sad, but on this particular day, his horrid day was perfect! A few hours later he came home, and I met him at the door. The girls still had no idea, and thankfully were outside jumping on the trampoline. I grabbed his hand and told him, "I know you've had a lousy day. But I got you something that will turn it around. Or make it worse... depending on your perspective, I guess." He looked at me puzzled and without any more words I lead him upstairs. On our bed was the gift bag. I handed it to him and he just looked at me. He reached in and pulled out the small gift. I could hardly breath as he unwrapped it. Finally, he realized what he was holding. For a split second, he was frozen, just staring at the test in his hands.
