To The Specialty Clinic {Part 1}

{Missed the previous posts of our Journey to Faith story? start HERE }

~~~ Flashback Post ~~~
To The Specialty Clinic {Part 1} (Feb 17, 2015)

The morning of our first appointment with the specialist we dropped our first grader off at school and headed out of town.  It was bitterly cold and windy, and we had an hour and a half drive ahead of us.  We had no idea what to expect or what to think.  We were quiet much of the trip, aside from my phone receiving several messages of encouragement and prayers.

We walked into the doors and I immediately remembered this was exactly where we’d been nine years earlier.  Just off to the left, inside the main door, was the door into the Fertility Specialty area.  We had journeyed through many trips, many appointments, many conversations, many decisions during that time.  They had never actually been able to give us a black and white answer to why we couldn't get pregnant, they also hadn’t been able to successfully help us achieve a pregnancy either.  We had finally ended up walking out those doors and into the doors of our local adoption agency.  Two and a half years later we would welcome a baby boy into our family via adoption.

It was all a little surreal to be back nearly a decade later. This time I was nearly forty and actually pregnant.

That day we took the elevator up to the forth floor – to the "Women’s Pelvic Heath" floor.  We walked through another set of glass doors and checked in.   As we walked over to the waiting area, the tears began to fall, an emotional overflowing.  There were boxes of tissues all over the place and my husband commented it was evident we were in a women’s health area because they knew to have tissues out everywhere.  He wasn’t making fun of me, just an observation as he handed me a box.

We were called and we took a seat in a tiny little office. The nurse was bubbly, chatty, smiling and just bustling all over.  Once again we went though all my general history of past pregnancies, past surgeries, and current state of my health.  She just smiled as we talked about our age and our general history of infertility.  Her kindness and enthusiasm help set a lighter tone, and laughter escaped us more than once.

We were then brought back to have our appointment with a Genetic Counselor. To be honest we actually had no idea what to expect or what roll this person even played in everything going on, but we followed and went where ever they brought us to next. As we sat in her office, she got right to the point and started asking family history questions, giving general information, and diving right in to some of the more “Advanced Age Pregnancy” type issues, questions, and testing options… I’m quite sure we both were complete “deer in the headlights” as we sat numbly in the chairs across from her. 

Suddenly my husband just put up his hand and said, “Wait up just a minute.  We need to take a step back here.  My wife has not been feeling well for a while and we were afraid she was going to have some sort of uterine cancer or something along that line. We just found a few days ago that she is pregnant… twelve weeks pregnant… after over a decade of infertility.  The day after we found out, we were told the ultrasound showed possible health issues and we were immediately sent here.  We are beyond ecstatic to be pregnant, but we have no idea what is going on, we are still in shock, and just trying to grasp this reality."  Oh bless his heart!

The Genetic Counselor, in all her caring wonderfulness, stopped everything right there, took a deep breath, and thanked him for letting her know that information.  She said that we did not need to talk about anything more right then, we just needed to get in, have the ultrasound and see how the baby was doing.  After that, we would meet with her again and go from there.

They brought us to the ultrasound room and explained what was going to happen.  My husband took a seat on the tiny little bench in the corner and I sat on the table next to the big machine.  A large flat screen tv hung above us, front and center for everyone to see.  Soon an ultrasound tech came in, laid me back, and turned off the lights.  As she raised up the table my heart was racing, beating wildly in my neck.  I could hear ringing in my ears and my stomach began to shake.  I put my arm out and squeezed my husbands hand desperately trying to just keep myself together.

All I had been hoping for in that moment was that the baby was still going to be alive.  I willed God to grant that little tiny heartbeat to flutter, those little arms and legs to move on that screen so my husband could see, hear, experience a tiny piece of his very own flesh and blood.  We may have two children, but neither are biologically his... and while the "biology" of it all really doesn't matter, and the love we hold for our children are both equal, there is something sacred about ones own absolute flesh and blood, created merely from love and unbelievable crazy luck.

I had no idea what would happen if the baby was already gone...

Click HERE to continue to our next journal entry.