Baby Roulette

The Princess and the Fertility Stones

An absence from writing here hasn’t meant a day has gone by that I have not been thinking about my impending treatment. My treatment is exactly 5 months, 1 week and 4 days until two precious embryos are nestled within. At that moment, I will be closer to being pregnant than I will ever have been before. It is a thought that completely overwhelms me even as I type. There has been an abundance of thoughts within my mind lately about the procedure. I have also realised just how superstitious I am. Dare I say, I sleep with a tiny satin-lined pouch with two rocks under my pillow? Yes, it is a no wonder I do not sleep well at night. It is as if I live the fairytale, ‘The Princess & the Pea’ however; my own rendition of ‘The Princess and the Fertility Stones.’  I picked them up at the local hippy shop named after a harvesting moon...or something. Harvest my moon. Please. Anything harvested would be a nice start. Jokes aside, somehow, those two smooth stones resting under my pillow that represents ‘fertility’....they give me hope; superficial or not. 

The last time I visited home, I was accompanied by long loved friends of mine. And, while I should not choose favourites , I have a favourite and that favourite friend gave me a special gift – a modern charm of a mother holding a child on a dainty silver chain. That single gift gives me strength beyond compare. When it tarnishes, I take a trip to my local jewellers and have it shined.  I could not imagine this journey without it. It is with me constantly and is the one item that helps in keeping me constant.

A few weeks back, I met a few friends for coffee and one who now has a set of lovely twins after IVF treatment stated, “Months before my treatment I tacked large orange circles all over our home. In the middle of those circles I had written the words, ‘We’re pregnant!’ It kept us positive.”

If I have learned one lesson through this entire process, it is knowing the ultimate secret to life. I now know that secret. That secret, my friends, is optimism. It will be the one thing that will give us a family, our baby.  If it takes tucking fertility stones under my pillow at night or tacking orange circles all over the walls of our home, I will do it. If I feel the desire to create art for a room that will one day home a baby, I shall create. It isn’t tempting fate – it is being optimistic. One day, our day will come. For now, I shall continue to dream –  as long as my pouch of fertility stones is underneath my pillow.

 

Overload

Infertility has made me a terrible being. So much of life is consumed with thinking that the world should absolutely stop turning because I simply cannot have a baby. It is embarrassing to admit.  Even now as I type, I hear the cries of our neighbor's new born. All I can think is, 'How insensitive!'  What am I saying? She does not know I cannot have children. Her baby does not have an on/off electronic switch to alter the cries. Infertility has caused me to become this ego-centric, self-centered human that I sometimes just down right despise!

And, it have become worse. I now forget birthdays of loved ones, appointments, coffee dates with friends, special occasions - all because my mind is preoccupied with lack of baby-ness. No matter the amount post-it notes, the planners, the palm pilot - I am in baby brain overload. Never in a million years would I have thought I would get this wrapped up in it all.

To add to my brain overload and lack of world consciousness we now have a date for a 'consultation' to meet my doctor and to have some pre-treatment tests. Handsome man 'o mine and I will jet set to Brno the 14th July.  To add to  the reality, I was sent a 'mock cycle' plan to adhere to before I arrive at Reprofit International for the scan to check the lining of my endometrium.  It is all becoming very real now.

Here is the plan  I have to follow for a mock cycle before IVF with  donor eggs:

 1. Wait for onset of your menstrual bleeding and from the very first day start to use estrogen pills (Estrofem 2mg tbl, Progynova 2mg tbl, Provames 2mg tbl or Estrimax 2mg tbl) one tablet three times daily (morning – lunch time – evening)

2. Go on using these estrogens for at least 13-14days

3. Your doctor will then proceed with ultrasound scan on day 13 or 14 or 15th. (your lining is supposed to be at least 8mm)

4.  If lining is OK (more than 8mm) add gestagens (Utrogestan 3 times daily 1cps or Cyclogest 400mg 1 pessary daily) to your estrogen tablets for 8 days.

5. Then stop all meds and wait for onset of your next bleeding.

It is all becoming very real now.

 

 

 

One step closer

Today, we booked the apartment we will be renting during our week in Brno for treatment.

Tonight, flights were booked as well. Looks like we shall leave London for Czech Republic on Monday, 8th September and return on Saturday, 13th September. We have decided to try and make the best of this trip and plan to see either Prague or Vienna during the week. We are staying to Brno for an extra day and a half so that I can take it easy after the embryo transfer and not have the stresses of traveling the day after. Crossing fingers this will work to my advantage.

I cannot help but ponder just how I will handle the experience after the embryo transfer. All of the waiting, planning, discussions, tears, anxiety, praying and hoping before the big day and within 60 minutes I will have two little embies inside of me. And then what? No more medical science. Mother nature will have to do her thing. It is terrifying to not have control. It is terrifying to know I have to just carry on with life as 'normal' . What I really will want to do is give those two little embies a good pep talk, allowing handsome man 'o mine to rub my tummy clockwise as he does when I have a tummy ache in hopes that it will prompt them to cling to me and become our dream. I will want to sit quietly, meditating, listening to subliminal Cd's that will put  my two embies in a trance, coaxing them to develop properly. Thoughts of keeping them warm as if tiny chicks waiting to hatch, I will have hot water bottles on stand-by.
I shall be a nervous wreck.  Leaving it up to Mother Nature is no comforting thought when it was she that turned her back on me that tumultuous day in 1997 when I was told I would never be able to conceive a child of my own.

All I can do is keep breathing. It is what gets me through from day to day and know that someday, I may join the rest in trips to the local park and snuggly winter hats or choosing pine or oak for a baby crib.

The reality of it all...

Empty Arms

Making sense of it all

Three days ago, I had my first acupuncture session. I am still getting my head around it all, but have read it increases chances for IVF and willing to give it a try. I do find it alarming that I am still finding sticker 'thumb tacks' in my body.

"These are fine needles on the underside of tiny plasters (band-aids), leave them in for a few days."

Sure, why not? Because I like needles sticking in my body for days at a time. Barbie and I have consulted. We are willing to be open minded about this. I do not look nearly as vogue with needles sticking out of my face.

It all seems very surreal to finally have a date for our very first course of IFV treatments. Having an action plan in place for what to expect, finances in order (and the peace of knowing it will now not costs us £10,000 with added costs of tests, treatment and fertility drugs), organising travelling and preparing myself within for the adventure we are soon to embark. Nine months seems like such a long time to wait for treatment, yet I have always been a huge believer in that events come and go at just the right time - It may not seem like the 'right' time but it is written in the stars.  I hope and pray daily that it will be the right time for our baby. In actual fact, I need the next nine months to prepare for it all.

Our chosen fertility clinic, Reprofit International is located in Brno in the Czech Republic (which is not located in China, Mom). There were a number of reasons why we chose to travel abroad for IVF.

1. In England, the laws governing egg and sperm donation has drastically changed in the last few years. You may read more about this at the Human Fetilisation Embryology Authority website.

To sum it all, those who choose to donate their eggs or sperm will no longer remain anonymous. While in the past those would donate to a) help a couple to have a child of their own  b) receieve payment for such.  This is no longer a process that can be done anonymously with a donor's sperm or eggs. Once a child born of donation reaches the age of eighteen, that child may find out about their donor. Egg donation has reaches an all time low in the UK due to these laws. Donor's do not want this responsibility. therefore, the waiting list for women like myself in need of a donor is a long wait.

2. I was recently referred by my doctor for one IVF treatment on the NHS (established in 1948, the system of free medical services.) In some counties in England under the 'nice law' couples are offered one IVF treatment on the NHS free of charge. This depends strictly on the county in which you reside and couples are not able to choose which fertility clinic they prefer.  I have yet to  receieve an answer on whether or not I will be eligible for this as I will also need an egg donor. I have been advised that the wait for this treatment on the NHS is up to a three years.

3. Costs. It is a shame that we cannot pour our money into the British economy yet, the costs for fertility treatment is gastly.

Costs of 'local' fertility clinic for treatments

Initial Consultation

£160 - £180

Hormone Assays (each)

£30

Semen Analysis

£55

Hepatitis B, C and HIV (all three tests)

£75.00

In Vitro Fertilisation (IVF) cycle
(Includes one Consultant review within 3 months of treatment)

£2,500.00

Egg Donation cycle with ICSI 

£4,800.00

Grand Total - £7,725.00 excluding fertility drugs. With current exchange rates the translates to  $11,396.51

You are probably wondering what we will be charged at Reprofit International, right?

Costs for treatment at Reprofit International
 

£2,278.62  which equates to $4,497.00 (this total does not include fertility drugs)

I know, it is a huge difference. All of my consultation are done via phone and email. I have had most of the preliminary testing done already however; may have a scan of my lining done closer to time. That test in itself is over £100 here in the UK if done privately. I can have it done at Reprofit for a fraction of that price.  My doctor at reprofit is incredibly helpful and swiftly responds to questions via email (with terrific English!). Meet the team.

3. Our third reason for chosing Reprofit is due to success rates for egg donation and the raves and praises from ladies on the fertilityfriends.co.uk forum. Best of all, the clinic's success rate is 65% for egg donation.

Excerpt about clinic:

Starting a family and aising children is one of the highest values of our lives. In modern times, one out of five couples is experiencing conception problems. Unsuccessful attempts for pregnancy bring big changes, stress and sadness into a couple’s life with a major psychological burden for both partners. Infertility is not fate, but a disease that is treatable in most cases.

Treatment of infertility is one of the fastest growing medical fields and is very successful in helping to fulfil your dream of having a baby. RI, Clinic of Reproductive Medicine offers a complex diagnosis and treatment of fertility disorders. Besides using the latest technology and methods of assisted reproduction, we look at fertility problems globally, using all healing procedures available from psychological support to physical therapy, homeopathy and acupuncture.

We have founded the very first clinic in the Czech Republic with a specialized egg donation program. We have more than 250 young egg donors in our database tested by ASRM (American Society of Reproductive Medicine) criteria for gamete donation. The leading specialists of our clinic have gained their knowledge and experience in reproductive medicine working at clinics in the Czech Republic and abroad.

Our motto is "medicine with a human face". Together with the use of the latest technology, we are focusing on personal, kind and individual approach to dealing with patients and their doctors. Our goal is to reduce the emotional stress of couples trying to get pregnant.

Our team of doctors, nurses, embryologists and counsellors provide a full range of infertility counselling and treatment - from diagnosis and advice to "tailored" treatment (ovulation induction, IVF, ICSI, gamete donation) with a highest personal attitude and psychological support. Team is led by Prof. L. Pilka Md, DrSc., founder of IVF in the Czech Republic. Our success is based on a perfect organization, latest technology and great co-operation with gynecologists. We emphasize a very professional but personal attitude towards our patients to diminish emotional stress during the treatment. Our English speaking staff is ready to help you to get what you have been longing for – a baby.

It is a lot to take in and each day it becomes easier! Tomorrow I am sorting out relevant preliminary tests for myself and handsome man 'o mine to ensure our blood tests are up to date and such and scheduling an appointment with my GP for support, advice, etc.

It's all coming together!

Your life will be so fine

Our sweet child,

Each day I think of how life might be if you were in existence and with us.  I experience a normal day of sipping tea while jazz music dances within these walls I call 'home' and somehow I find a way to include you. My thoughts are consumed of your life, happiness and safeguard. If only I could hold you now –forget the waiting lists, the fertility drugs, the travelling, hopes of positive pregnancy tests and just hold in you in my arms. Hold you tightly and never let you go, reminding you that you belong to us, forever.

I do not know the shape of your face, the sound of your coos or the light in your eyes. I imagine milky skin and soft scents with shiny strands of hazelnut. Yet, you are a mystery written in the stars that will one day reveal all of you; our precious child. The child we will call our own.

Your father and I talk of you daily. We discuss tucking you into bed behind the safety of blankets with satin trim in a room with soft glows. Which songs I will sing to you in low whispers. Your mommy is always creating new songs and they are sure to bring you sunshine on England’s cloudy days of raindrops and umbrellas.  I’ll teach about courage and how to overcome life’s hardships, the cuteness of a cat's pink nose, how to write the perfect thank you letter, make the scrummist of cupcakes and how to sew a button on your favourite winter coat. Your father will teach you to protect, defend, and comfort yourself. He is terrific at football and laughs when you mommy calls it ‘soccer’.

Live fearlessly, my brave, sweet child. That is what we will encourage you to do.  Your father will teach you to play the guitar and how it feels to be loved unconditionally.  I’ll teach you to wrap presents and how to make a gingerbread house. Together we will teach you to build a fort and to hear the ocean echo in a seashell.  Already you are teaching us to be patient and to overcome any obstacle that may stand in the way of a dream. That dream is you.

You grow within my heart and already I know you are mine and I am yours. One day I’ll hold you in my arms, oh so tightly and sing to you my dear child.

Your life will be so fine
You're gonna have the sweetest time

I could wish you lots of things
A clever mind and diamond rings

The knowledge that you're always free
Compassion for all that you see

But the best thing, I can think of
Is to wish you love

So right from the very start
I wish you a lions heart

A little darkness let it come
So that you will always know the sun

May it shine down from above
Let it fill your life with love

Your life will be so fine
You're gonna have the sweetest time

I love you,

Your mommy to be

In need of lots of luck

(Handsome man 'o mine and I are walking about a local mercedes benz/SMART dealership admirning new cars)

Me: Do you miss our sports car that we traded in 6 months ago?
Husband: I do! Especially in the summer with the top down.
Me: ahhh sun on our faces, wind in our hair, an excuse to buy cute hats.
Husband: Yes. (pausing after realising the hat comment)
Me: We could always trade in our current car and get another sports car?
Husband: And when you fall preganat what do we do? We're 'environmentally friendly' (he used air quotes. I cringe when those are used). We are a one car family.
Me: Hmm, no room for baby. (pondering) We trade it in, again.
Husband: Or, ask for a roof rack.

Last night we rang in the new year quite happily snug in a local Italian resturant. We sipped pinot grigio, shared pasta and lemon torte and did a quiet rewind of 2007's events in candle light. It was a special time and a reminder of just how in love I am despite the ups and downs.  We opted for a quiet ringing in of the new year. Old classics playing on the radio, dancing in the livingroom - just the two of us, champagne and indoor sparklers. We watched London admire the resonant dongs of Big Ben from the comfort of our own home and kissed at midnight. It was exactly what my soul needed.

Today I fullfiled a tradition from my own mother of black eyed peas for good luck in the new year. I haven't been one for superstitions but, this year I feel it wouldn't hurt. I baked homemade southern american biscuits and white pepper gravy and enjoyed that little peice of 'home' this afternoon.

On top of traditions of luck and such, we were contacted by our fertility clinic and now have a date for IVF treatment with an anonymous egg donor. I am over the moon to have a date set. Until then, it's acupuncture and wheat grass tablets and getting healthy. I do hope 2008 brings us good  and lots of luck.

Another Christmas, another reminder

Isn't it amazing realizing the amount of preparation that goes into the blessed event of Christmas and it only takes
mere hours to unwrap beautifully tied ribbons, demolish a turkey cooked to perfection and find yourself amidst empty champagne glasses and a living room floor covered in the aftermaths of surprises. All the preparation and in an instant it is a hazy memory.

As I sat nestled in my favorite section of our sofa watching family in full swing of Christmas merriment, I was reminded of being childless. I couldn't help but ponder what such a day must be like with the spirit of children filling the room. The excitement of Santa, the presents, the preparation and feeling of accomplishment when remembering the batteries for toys in preventing chocolate smiles from turning to frowns. Traditions passed from generation to generation. As a child sweet man 'o mine always kept his Christmas stocking at the end of his bed for smaller presents. As a child, my family always took part in the 'great cookie bake fandango'.  I long to pass such traditions to a child of our own.

'I cannot believe with all the time you spend teaching, grading assignments and planning for lessons, you have time to create handmade Christmas cards,' a friend says as she fingers the delicate Christmas card made especially for her.

My immediate thought was, 'I have nothing else to do.' I have all of this energy and no where to channel it. I clean, I plan, I prepare for the holidays, I finish my work duties, I work out, I cook, I spend time with my husband. Then what? I find myself board & busying myself with tasks of writing, travelling, playing guitar, photography or on an inspired day painting. It just doesn't fill the hole in my heart that long to be a mother. I want organized days of day trips, finger painting and grill cheese sandwiches. Toys overflowing, children's books scattered, bath time and singing songs.

Rounding the corner to the living room where my mother in-law was intently reading a magazine she turns the book towards me. In large bold letters, I read the title ...

'LEARNING TO COPE WITHOUT CHILDREN'

Why? Why was she showing this article to me? I felt horrified and the lump in my throat was bulging. I wanted to flail my arms, wailing like a child myself. Did she not understand what such a small act would do to me? I manage to choke back tears and serve Christmas dinner as if the day was sparkling, bright and joy-filled. Later, in the privacy and safe guard of sweet man 'mine's arms I let the tears flow.

I never expect for the world to stop turning for me because I cannot have children of my own. I just want understanding and compassion. The more time that goes by, the more I realize that unless those I am in contact with are experiencing the same hurt of infertility that I am, there is not the same level of understanding.

It just should not be this difficult.

No longer just my problem

After years of safeguarding my secret of being incapable of conceiving a child naturally I have realised just how detrimental it has been for my own well being. Despite the sheer sadness infertility brings, I now feel the need to share my story, the trials I am facing and the journey we are embarking. It becomes a sense of relief almost – revealing why I do not already have children and it took so long to bring myself to ever using the word that has changed my life, shadowed my dreams and smothered the happiness of my own soul –infertility.

“I am infertile”

It hurts to say it without the sugar-coating & harmonising promises of,

“Oh, now is just not our time! We’re still waiting for the big day!”

I felt as if we were living a lie when asked when we would expect to have children of our own. I had perfected the response of smiling politely and shrugging sweetly and later collapsing in a heap of tears once arriving home within four walls. It was exhausting and I was weary with being ashamed and afraid of pity. I never chose this unfortunately fate– it chose me.

After handsome man ‘o mine and I married, the need to experience motherhood was in full swing. More and more, I was noticing young mums set in motion clutching brightly coloured strollers and push chairs in local high streets. Round cheeks, animal cracker mouths and glassy eyes beaming toddler goodness and that yearning to have my own experience became more and more intensely at hand.  I wanted secure answers from a professional, a second opinion, someone to cure this upsetting nightmare. Instead, I received confirmation of my diagnosis of Premature Ovarian Failure however; he harshly spoke the word ‘menopause’ – repeatedly chanting it as sacrificing my ovaries to the fertility gods.

“You are menopausal. As you do not have a monthly bleed you should continue to take hormone replacement therapy in order to do so. This will make you feel more like a woman.”

I winced.

No longer could I not have a baby, I suddenly was growing a penis. Handsome man ‘o mine swiftly grabbed my hand and we left that doctor’s office, never to return. The alarming comment of this old miser will forever haunt me.

Quickly redeeming my trust in the fertility world was a wonderful doctor who assessed my condition gently, speaking of positive and realistic truths. His crisp whites and medical terms did not alarm me. In fact, I felt compelled to spill all honestly from my heart to the point of tears and desperation. And, for once after sharing my deep sadness and pregnancy dreams I felt it was no longer my problem. It was now his problem as well; a problem that we would try to sort together.  I felt instant relief.

This trust struck a chord in me and the realisation of putting faith in the hands of the professionals with so many reservations must change. I simply cannot fulfil any dreams of becoming a mother without the guidance of fertility doctors. A support work of those of care for me will be of utmost importance for me now. Never should I have bared this burden alone. From this day on, it is not just a difficulty handsome man ‘o mine face alone.

Unfortunate Answered Prayers

My parents never discussed the "birds & bees" with me from what I can recall. There was a bookcase in the downstairs living room overflowing with volumes of books. Not dusty, untouched ones, for my mother seemed to keep her books to good use on a regular basis. Each one was read with care, maintaining their glossy covers and crispness.

I remember one book in particular. It was a bit smaller than the rest and cappuccino in colour. For years, I wasn't tall enough to reach it. However, one afternoon after being left alone in the house, curiosity got the best of my innocent spirit. I had managed to hoist myself up toward the towering bookcase, barely grasping the bind of the book with my tiny pink fingertips. It descended to the floor and the crash echoed throughout the house. There I dangled, gripping the giant ledged book refuge made of oak, begging to be spared of my own life. I was clawing the wood with my flimsy nails as if I were an alley cat escaping a nipping canine bite.

The small book laid on the floor open in plain view with the words, "SEXUAL REPRODUCTION" in large bold letters. I immediately recognised the first three letters however, the rest I had trouble sounding out. The first three letters, S E X were often fingered through the foggy condensation on the school bus windows. Instantaneous giggles always followed the perverted acts of lewd ten year old boys. I thumbed through the book, exposing myself to various sexual positions, which I later felt guilty for the liking of my latest discovered erotica. Nowadays, I wonder if the placing of the little brown sex book directly two shelves above the children's book shelf was intentional. Perhaps my parents thought, "If they are big enough to reach the book, they are big enough to read about the subject." And eventually, boom! Instant enlightenment on the "birds and bees" without the actual discussion.

The years before my erotica discovery, I prayed the exact same prayer on my knees each night before my sweet slumber. I was a fearful child. Fearful of rejection, death, disasters and pain. My prayer throughout my childhood consisted of four exact sentences. Naturally, the last request was taken out of my prayer after the little brown book was found. It was then I was revealed that God doesn't pick and chose which women have children. Or, does He?

Dear God,

Please make my mom and dad love each other everyday.
Keep my baby brother safe.
Don't let there be a tornado or fire tonight.
Please do not put a baby in my stomach.

Amen

Seven years later

I was seventeen and everything was going well for me. I was voted Junior Homecoming Maid in high school, our cheerleading squad made it to nationals, I was in love, had a new car, and lots of friends. Little did I know that I was about to hear the most devastating news of my life.

"You have been diagnosed with a condition called Premature Ovarian Failure. Your ovaries are not working properly and you will most likely never conceive a child."

My world was crashing and I wanted to die. From that point on, my life drastically changed. I dated less and less in fear of not being able to live up to the expectations of the men in the south who couldn't wait to have strapping young lads carrying out the family name-- A tradition that could only be carried by a child of their own flesh and blood. In college, I didn't pursue relationships with men that passionately talked about having families of their own. I couldn't face telling them I was inadequate to give them a child. Thus, losing out on what could have been beautiful connections.

I felt as if a magnificent experience was ripped from me, robbing me from such an incomprehensible moment. A moment that I would watch time and time again, as my college friends eventually had children. And now my own brother and his wife are making me an Auntie this April.

"What were mom and dad's reactions to the baby news?"

"They both were ecstatic. Mom's reply was, I'm going to be a Granny!"

"That is wonderful. I am so happy you have them near."

"Me too, Amanda. After all, it may be the only."

"What?"

"Nevermind"

"Grandbaby they ever have?"

"I'm sorry...I should have thought before I spoke"

Once again, my heart sank. My family has already accepted the fact that Darren and I will be childless. And while I am thrilled for baby my neice to be a part of my family's lives, my heart is saddened of a future without a similar experience of our own. The happiness I have felt for my friends and their newest family additions has been such a strange & foreign emotion. Never have I felt so much sadness with an emotion that is to create bounds of contentment. Combining happiness and sadness into one emotion has been a form of heartbreak for me.

I have recently swallowed my pride, stopped ignoring my diagnosis and began researching other options for future reference. I will continue to smile politely when asked, "When are the two of you having children?" I will continue to thumb through baby clothes in department stores, allowing the scent of fresh softness to linger as my fingers feather the gentle cottons of crib blankets and tees, bringing me a glimpse of hope. I will go on imagining the feeling of contentment in knowing that someday we will have a family. Someday, my husband and I will be picking out paint colours for the spare bedroom that will eventually be converted to a baby's room. Someday, I will give my mother and father and second grandchild.

Perhaps, my childhood prayer "please don't put a baby in my stomach" has been answered. But, forever more my prayer will be, "Dear God, please make me a mother."

Amen.

My parents never discussed the "birds & bees" with me from what I can recall. There was a bookcase in the downstairs living room overflowing with volumes of books. Not dusty, untouched ones, for my mother seemed to keep her books to good use on a regular basis. Each one was read with care, maintaining their glossy covers and crispness.

I remember one book in particular. It was a bit smaller than the rest and cappuccino in colour. For years, I wasn't tall enough to reach it. However, one afternoon after being left alone in the house, curiosity got the best of my innocent spirit. I had managed to hoist myself up toward the towering bookcase, barely grasping the bind of the book with my tiny pink fingertips. It descended to the floor and the crash echoed throughout the house. There I dangled, gripping the giant ledged book refuge made of oak, begging to be spared of my own life. I was clawing the wood with my flimsy nails as if I were an alley cat escaping a nipping canine bite.

The small book laid on the floor open in plain view with the words, "SEXUAL REPRODUCTION" in large bold letters. I immediately recognised the first three letters however, the rest I had trouble sounding out. The first three letters, S E X were often fingered through the foggy condensation on the school bus windows. Instantaneous giggles always followed the perverted acts of lewd ten year old boys. I thumbed through the book, exposing myself to various sexual positions, which I later felt guilty for the liking of my latest discovered erotica. Nowadays, I wonder if the placing of the little brown sex book directly two shelves above the children's book shelf was intentional. Perhaps my parents thought, "If they are big enough to reach the book, they are big enough to read about the subject." And eventually, boom! Instant enlightenment on the "birds and bees" without the actual discussion.

The years before my erotica discovery, I prayed the exact same prayer on my knees each night before my sweet slumber. I was a fearful child. Fearful of rejection, death, disasters and pain. My prayer throughout my childhood consisted of four exact sentences. Naturally, the last request was taken out of my prayer after the little brown book was found. It was then I was revealed that God doesn't pick and chose which women have children. Or, does He?

Dear God,

Please make my mom and dad love each other everyday.
Keep my baby brother safe.
Don't let there be a tornado or fire tonight.
Please do not put a baby in my stomach.

Amen

Seven years later

I was seventeen and everything was going well for me. I was voted Junior Homecoming Maid in high school, our cheerleading squad made it to nationals, I was in love, had a new car, and lots of friends. Little did I know that I was about to hear the most devastating news of my life.

"You have been diagnosed with a condition called Premature Ovarian Failure. Your ovaries are not working properly and you will most likely never conceive a child."

My world was crashing and I wanted to die. From that point on, my life drastically changed. I dated less and less in fear of not being able to live up to the expectations of the men in the south who couldn't wait to have strapping young lads carrying out the family name-- A tradition that could only be carried by a child of their own flesh and blood. In college, I didn't pursue relationships with men that passionately talked about having families of their own. I couldn't face telling them I was inadequate to give them a child. Thus, losing out on what could have been beautiful connections.

I felt as if a magnificent experience was ripped from me, robbing me from such an incomprehensible moment. A moment that I would watch time and time again, as my college friends eventually had children. And now my own brother and his wife are making me an Auntie this April.

"What were mom and dad's reactions to the baby news?"

"They both were ecstatic. Mom's reply was, I'm going to be a Granny!"

"That is wonderful. I am so happy you have them near."

"Me too, Amanda. After all, it may be the only."

"What?"

"Nevermind"

"Grandbaby they ever have?"

"I'm sorry...I should have thought before I spoke"

Once again, my heart sank. My family has already accepted the fact that Darren and I will be childless. And while I am thrilled for baby my neice to be a part of my family's lives, my heart is saddened of a future without a similar experience of our own. The happiness I have felt for my friends and their newest family additions has been such a strange & foreign emotion. Never have I felt so much sadness with an emotion that is to create bounds of contentment. Combining happiness and sadness into one emotion has been a form of heartbreak for me.

I have recently swallowed my pride, stopped ignoring my diagnosis and began researching other options for future reference. I will continue to smile politely when asked, "When are the two of you having children?" I will continue to thumb through baby clothes in department stores, allowing the scent of fresh softness to linger as my fingers feather the gentle cottons of crib blankets and tees, bringing me a glimpse of hope. I will go on imagining the feeling of contentment in knowing that someday we will have a family. Someday, my husband and I will be picking out paint colours for the spare bedroom that will eventually be converted to a baby's room. Someday, I will give my mother and father and second grandchild.

Perhaps, my childhood prayer "please don't put a baby in my stomach" has been answered. But, forever more my prayer will be, "Dear God, please make me a mother."

Amen.