Waiting for Me

My husband Lance and I already had a beautiful son named Spencer. We had waited four years until we felt financially ready to have another child. I was so excited to think that we were actually ready to add on to our family. Little did I know what we were about to face. It would prove to be the hardest thing we had ever gone through.

With great hopes and dreams of another child, we tried to conceive for a year. Toward the end of the year I became pregnant. You would think that after being pregnant with my son, and the fact that I tried so hard to become pregnant, I would have known.

However, I didn't have any signs of pregnancy this time. It was only because I was so anxious that I bought an over the counter test. It was positive! I was on cloud nine! Words couldn't describe how happy I was. It had been almost a year and finally I was pregnant! The excitement lasted for about an hour. It was then, that I started to bleed. Alarmed, I called the doctor. I was told that this could be "nature’s way" of telling me something was wrong. The doctor then said for me to go about my life as usual.

I did. The bleeding and uneasiness drug on for five long days.

On the fifth day I lost the baby. I was heartbroken. The sadness continued for days, but at least I knew that nothing was wrong with me physically. I did get pregnant and so I could get pregnant again.

Lance and I continued with our plans of adding to our family. I bought books on the subject. Everyone seems to have a little secret to getting pregnant. I tried them all. They didn't work. Months went by and nothing happened. I began to wonder if something was wrong.

I made an appointment with my gynecologist. After many months, and too many tests, nothing abnormal was found. I was relieved, but at the same time disappointed. At least if the doctor had found something I would know the problem and could fix it.

The doctor suggested my husband have a check-up. Like most men, Lance was not excited in the least. After much pushing and prodding, he reluctantly went to see the doctor. We were now given the diagnosis "infertility" since it had been a full year without a normal pregnancy and were referred to an infertility specialist.

Diminishing Hope

The one- hour drive to our appointment was grueling. We assured each other that it would be okay if the results revealed our worst fears. Then, we quickly moved on to how great it was going to be when we continued on with our plans to conceive despite this small detour.

Neither of us was prepared for the worst, no matter what we told ourselves. As we pulled into the parking lot, a feeling of panic came over me. It was getting harder for me to breathe. Walking to the office was even worse. A sudden rush of anxiety flooded me. I focused on the doors and kept walking. We were almost there. In a few minutes we would find out if my dream would become a reality, or worse. I prayed to God silently, "Lord, get me through this!"

"Peyton," the nurse called, holding open the heavy, steel door.

From that point on, all I remember are bits and pieces. A lot of it was a blur, except the most important part-- that's what you always remember.

Our fate lay in front of us in a file on the doctor's desk. I didn't have a lot of patience at this point. I was so eager to get our answers. All of the things we had gone through flashed by in my mind-- my appointments, advice from books, my tests, and all of Lance’s tests. We were finally ready to hear the answer.

The doctor rambled on about others with infertility problems. He mentioned medical terms, procedures, and so on. When doctors are about to tell you something important they always want to tell you all these other things when all you want to hear is what you came for. It seemed like time was standing still. I was growing more anxious as he spoke. I turned and glanced at Lance to see how he was handling all this. I couldn't tell.

Then, the doctor switched his tone. He had a serious look on his face. I searched his eyes to see what he was trying to tell us, or not tell us.