The Pregnancy Test
My
husband Bob loves going food shopping; however, it is a task that I simply do
not enjoy. While I approach the
supermarket as a necessary evil and strive to get in and out as fast as
possible, Bob thinks of it as an adventure, savoring every moment, scanning
every item, in every aisle, and taking hours upon hours to perform the
seemingly simple job of buying groceries for a family of three.
Although
he takes his weekend excursion to restock the fridge quite seriously, there is
one product he will never attempt to purchase.
A product he avoids at all costs, a product that confuses, befuddles,
and downright scares him. Yes ladies, I
am referring to…….feminine protection!
It
is no good trying to explain to Bob how to purchase these products for me. There are too many shapes, sizes, brands,
designs, absorbency levels, etc. I will
gladly take the short trek to the neighborhood drug store once a month to
purchase them myself. A few months ago,
however, after proactively ensuring I had a decent supply, I realized that my
“monthly friend” seemed to be a bit tardy.
Ok,
no big deal, I thought. I’m getting
older, tardiness is to be expected.
After
two weeks passed I began to suspect that my “monthly friend” had, perhaps, lost
its way.
After
three weeks I thought about launching a search party.
After
five weeks I prepared to offer a large reward for the safe return of my
“monthly friend”.
After
six weeks I began to truly worry that my “monthly friend” would not resurface
for another nine months.
Sigh. It was time to tell Bob.
My
husband and I approached this development with mixed reactions. From a financial perspective, how would
another mouth to feed affect our college savings for our 14-year old daughter
Melissa, as well as retirement plans for us?
From an age perspective, we calculated that Bob would be 74 when this
child graduated from high school. From a
Melissa perspective, was she ready to welcome a sibling after having her
parents to herself for all these years.
From a “been there done that” perspective, were we ready to start again
with diapers and day care? Also, in
addition to Melissa, Bob had singlehandedly raised his daughter Jessica. He’d already “been there done that” twice and
was not sure if three times would be a charm.
Finally, from a health perspective, I have recently developed a medical
condition called uterine prolapse, a problem that could seriously impact my
body’s ability to carry a baby to term. This
was the perspective that worried me most.
Six
weeks melded into seven and still no sign of my “monthly friend”. I made a promise to go to the drug store and
buy “The Test”, but something held me back.
After going over all of the reasons again why this news had thrown us
into a panic, another perspective started to surface….the happiness
perspective. I started to imagine
cradling a new bundle of joy. I started
to wander into our spare bedroom and picture where I would put the crib. I started thinking of boy names and girl
names, and that maybe, just maybe, at the age of 46, god wanted to give me
another gift.
My
first gift came after 12 months of trying.
I realize it sounds quite cliché when I admit I knew instantly, even
before “The Test” provided affirmative confirmation. Something just felt different, like no other
feeling that had engulfed my body ever in my lifetime. This feeling soon went beyond mere
exhaustion. I felt as if someone had
replaced my bones with lead. During the
first five weeks I slept for 20 hours straight and still, severe exhaustion
persisted.
When I finally regained a small measure of energy, I developed an inability to hold down any type of food or liquid. My obstetrician diagnosed the condition as hyperemesis gravidarum, a severe form of morning sickness, only, it lasts all day, and well beyond the typical 12 weeks. Forced to go on disability, I spent the early months of my pregnancy confined to the couch with an IV inserted in my veins to ensure my body, and the baby, received enough nourishment to thrive.
My doctor experimented with alternative therapies and a combination of drugs, and finally, after five long months, I started to experience some relief.
A few months later, the love of my life entered the world, health as could be, and oblivious to the havoc she had wrecked on her mommy's body. As the years flew by and Bob and I celebrated each milestone in Melissa's young life, I contemplated having another. However, I could not imagine being pregnant while juggling my full time public relations job, caring for my active daughter, and dealing with another bout of IV therapy. My doctor said I might not have the same experience the second time around, but I didn't want to take the chance.
Fourteen years later I stood poised to yet again take, "The Test", to learn if Bob and I were destined for another. Unsure of what I wanted to answer to be, I reluctantly glanced at the stick, which told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was not with child....I was just getting old.
Bob and I felt a wisp of sadness of what might have been, as well as an overwhelming sense of relief. Although another would have been welcome with open arms, we have two beautiful daughters who have filled our lives with such joy. What more could we ask for?
I guess we passed the test.
www.lisagradessweinstein.blogspot.com
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Lisa it's funny how you can feel two things at once isn't it? At 46 I could imagine feeling exactly the same way, a mix of relief and a bit of sadness. Great post!
ReplyDeleteI just turned 47 and I wonder if we are done. My youngest is 17 months old.
ReplyDeleteSandy