LackOfNothing

The beginning of 2009 was an anxious time. My friends were all having babies, and I truly believed that we would have our own very soon. I watched as my friends were anxiously awaiting the arrival of their newborn baby, while I was anxiously awaiting the day we could start the insemination process.

After letting my body heal from the surgery, we were able to start the process toward our first insemination in January 2009. I took my first dose of Clomid in the middle of January; 3 pills for 3 days. At the end of January, I went to the center to have an ultrasound done to see how many eggs I had developed on the medication. The ultrasound showed that I had 5 fully matured eggs — this center is not in the business of creating “octomoms”, so this caused quite a dilemma:

Option 1) inseminate & agree that if more than 3 embryos implant, I will allow the doctor to “remove” (AKA: abort) the excess embryos; or

Option 2) sign a waiver saying that I WILL NOT allow them to abort any “excess” embryos, and not inseminate.

I was very upset. I was appalled that I was even having to sign a waiver saying that I am CHOOSING to put myself at risk with each insemination by not permitting the doctor to abort ANY of my babies… especially babies that I had been wanting for years, even if it there were more than expected. The doctor also recommended that we not try on our own. The risk for a high number of multiples was just too high.

I went home, and thought it over. I did not want the doctor to tell me what to do. I wanted to try on our own, even if there was a risk. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing an entire month, and now only 4 or 5 months left to TTC (“try to conceive” in infertility lingo. Oh, yeah… I know all the lingo!). During all of this, I was sending out regular updates to my family and closest friends. Since most of them were quite far away, I wanted them to be a part of this process, and to be excited for us. I sent an email titled “One month down… 3 more to go” explaining my deflating hope and increasing frustration.

As I sit here now, I can’t help but think what if we would have ignored the doctor’s warning and tried on our own? Would we be chasing around our two and a half year old[s]? I have to remind myself that if God wanted us to have a baby in 2009, we would’ve had a baby in 2009. Playing God, and ignoring the doctor’s advice would not have made a difference.