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Archive for August, 2010

Jesus’ Son

Tuesday, August 24th, 2010

I know they argue about whether or not it’s right, whether or not the baby is alive at this point or that point in its growth inside the womb. This wasn’t about that. It wasn’t what the lawyers did. It wasn’t what the doctors did, it wasn’t what the woman did. It was what the mother and father did together.

-Denis Johnson

A Third Child…

Thursday, August 19th, 2010

It’s strange the way life works- I spent my teens and twenties worrying about getting pregnant, only to learn, in my thirties, that it would be more difficult than I expected. My husband and I began the fertility route- hormones, in vitro, every test possible. Getting pregnant became, literally, a science, and a profound financial and emotional burden. I doubted my body and my ability to be a mother. I felt barren, physically and emotionally. It became too much of a toll and after six years, we stopped trying.

Then I got pregnant. That is the way life works. I gave birth to a healthy baby, a miracle. Quickly after, I became pregnant again. Another healthy child. I was, and continue to be, blessed. The children grew older. And then, years later, I became pregnant again. I was 41, and our economic situation was not once it once was. I knew the statistics about babies born to “older woman,” and I knew what a commitment a child was. And honestly, my husband and I didn’t want a third child. We didn’t want to sacrifice what we wanted, nor what we could provide our children. We recognized that this pregnancy was a miracle, but it was a miracle that came too late.  I cried, thinking of the children I had, of what my unborn baby could potentially be. But our situation was already tough, I was working two jobs, and I didn’t want to have a child I might potentially resent. I considered adoption, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to part with my baby after carrying it- emotion would trump reason. So we chose abortion.  I cried, and cried. I expected to continue crying- for days, weeks, months, years.

But ironically, I think all the years of fertility work prepared me for the abortion. It felt like any of the other thousands of doctors appointments. I felt numb afterwards. I had the same barren feeling I would get when I would look at the EPT tests and realize that they were negative. Except, this was my choice- a choice for myself, my children and our lifestyle. And I stood behind it.

One of Those Girls

Wednesday, August 11th, 2010

I always said I wouldn’t be one of those girls- the girls who got pregnant. But I didn’t use birth control because of a bad experience with medications, and I was fearful of concepts like an IUD. I never really fully understood birth control or the importance of it. I used condoms, but not regularly. But then I got pregnant. My boyfriend at the time and I had been dating for five months. I had come out of a longterm, unhealthy relationship and had just finished a long period of celibacy. I knew I was pregnant the moment it happened. The sex was different, I felt different, I felt I looked different. I was 22 and felt, for the first time, like a woman. And then I took a pregnancy test. I was overjoyed, and devestated. I couldn’t figure out which one more. What if this baby was the beginning of the rest of my life?What if this was meant to be?

By the time I found out I was pregnant, six weeks in, I had already been dumped. I had spent three months mourning the relationship. My nauseau, or fatigue, or lack of appetite were all associated with the breakup. Even my lack of period I associated with the breakup. But my boobs were large, and tender, and growing bigger by the minute. I had to face the facts. When I told my ex-boyfriend he was silent. Very silent.Hours seemed to pass before he asked me what I wanted to do. I realized my hope that he would suddenly change his mind about the relationship and want to have the baby was ridiculous. He didn’t want me, and he didn’t want the baby. And I didn’t want his baby. I wanted a child with someone who loved me and who wanted to be a parent. I no longer felt elated, or hopeful, I felt realistic. I didn’t think I would be one of those girls, and now I was, and it wasn’t so bad. I could handle it. (more…)