How a baby is made...

I decided to start a blog up again because I miss writing and I can document what this past year has been like. I've been privately writing about the process of having a baby, so I'm going to start there, posting those stories here. Enjoy. :)

The story starts in August 2018. My Westminster friends and I had a lovely night of facials, a concert and sampling Ukrainian flavored vodka, since I'd just returned from a lovely trip to Ukraine after many years away. I was lamenting the fact that I was still single and had never had a family. My friend B said, “You kind of suck at dating. But you don’t actually need a man to have a baby. What do you want more, a husband or a baby?” I'm paraphrasing, but she did say I suck at dating. I still bring that up to everyone when I tell this story.

“Well, both,” I said. 

“But what can you control?” she asked in the usual manner of a teacher leading a student to the correct answer.

The idea of having a child outside of the traditional manner of having a family had never even occurred to me. Never crossed my mind. I had already started mourning the fact that I would never have children.

I laughed it off at first, but I kept thinking about it. What would it take to have a baby? What would I have to do? At first, my friends and I wondered if I could do it on my own. Could I like, buy the specimen and insert it myself? The Internet made it seem doable. Getting a legitimate sperm bank to send me the specimen was not. I went to visit an OB/GYN doctor. She referred me to the Colorado Center for Reproductive Medicine.

When I told my sister I wanted to try and have a baby, we were biking into Fort Collins at the time. She almost cried. “You will be such a good mom!” she said. She was so excited for me. “I hope that I can be a parent to your child just like you’ve been to mine!” she said.

I told my brother and parents while we were having a Labor Day barbecue at Boyd Lake. “Ohhhh, wow!!!” my mom said. Her eyes were big and kind of excited. “What would God say about this?!” But then later, she said, “I’m not sure what God thinks but I say, ‘Let’s do this!’” That warmed my heart. My brother’s reaction was kind of like, “Oh interesting.” And my dad’s reaction was hard to read. He was worried about me trying to do it alone.

My best friend took the news well, but, ever the realist, later looked me in the eyes and said, "Are you sure you're ready for this?" She has an adorable little two-year-old boy. His birth and first year of life were challenging, not only because she had an extremely difficult birth and recovery, but also because she, like me, had a child in her late 30s and it was a difficult transition from basically being single to raising an exuberant little boy. "Um, I think so?" I said.

And as I thought about that, what it would be like to have a child, several thoughts went through my head. I could see into the future and the regret I would feel if I'd never had a baby. I remember being around 32 and thinking, "I'm finally grown up. If the opportunity presents itself, I'd love to have kids." I was ready. When I thought about the challenge of sleepless nights, etc., I heard another friend saying in my head, "At some point, you quit thinking of yourself as single and you grow up and have that kid! You're never going to be 'ready.' You just gotta do it if you feel it's time." I also could feel the pain in my heart every time another birthday came and went and I was still alone and single, while I watched my sister experience the joy (and yes, struggles) of raising her two boys. I desperately wanted that experience. I might come to think differently, but I wanted my own little person in my life, to experience life through his or her little eyes.

I met with a doctor from CCRM. She was very nice, but very realistic. She said pregnancy is not as likely for someone “my age.” Because I was 38, almost 39, the chances of getting pregnant were lower. But she also said, “I’m excited for you!” She said I had a 5 percent chance of getting pregnant.

They made me take lots of tests, which meant going in for blood work, an ultrasound and an “HSG test” which checked that my Fallopian tubes were working. I also had to go to a regular gynecologist to have a Pap Smear. I told the doctor there what I wanted to do. I wanted to have a baby on my own. Her reaction was the funniest yet. The other doctors had been very professional in their opinions and just told me the next steps to take. This older gynecologist had a shocked reaction. Her eyes got big and she said, “You want to do what? Well, that sure is brave! Wow, that’s so interesting!” Before I left, she said, “Stay in touch and let me know how it goes!”

I was worried about what my parents really thought. On the way home from work one day, Mom called me about something and eventually I asked her, “What do you  really think about me having a baby?” 

“Of course I am supportive!” she said. “This will be wonderful. God will open the doors for you if it’s meant to happen!” That made me feel better.

I still avoided bringing it up in Dad’s presence and finally asked him outright, “What do you think, Dad?”

“I think it will be hard but like you’ve said, you have a great support system around you,” he said. 

On Nov. 21, my nephew E hung out at my house for a bit. I had this funny conversation with him: 

E: Did you know that you act like a mommy sometimes?

J: I do? Like when I tell you what to do? Did you know that maybe I will have a baby?

E: Uh huh. Did you know that mommy saved your baby?

J: Huh? What do you mean?

E: Mommy saved your baby. It was about to die and she saved it.

J: HUH? Was that a dream? Where did that come from?

E: Hmm. Yeah, it was a dream.

(Luckily, my sister never had to save my baby).

To be continued...