Delay of Game

It took so long for me to get pregnant. A crummy first marriage followed by a years-long, really bad-idea rebound relationship sent me into self-imposed exile and introspection. I was trying to find out why I was making such big mistakes in love. I went on an annual date to see if I was healed yet, or if I had learned something. Eventually, I dated a man I really liked, but who, it turns out, didn’t really like me back. Bummer, I guess I had more learning to do. Then, I met my husband online. My 30-day account was about to expire when in sails his e-mail. He looked handsome in his aviators and white polo – nice smile – nice online profile. I wrote back quickly, giving him my home e-mail address. Within minutes, the high of hitting “send” wore off and I started to panic. I had just sent a potential axe murderer my home e-mail address, which, cleverly, is comprised of my real name! Yipes. Turns out he was a great guy.

We both knew we wanted to be married again and have children, so got married and started trying. It didn’t happen right away, instead, life intervened. My mom became very ill and died 13 months after the wedding. I was devastated. In addition, we were days away from closing on a new house. Our move-in date was December 19. Then, my supervisor took another job, and her replacement was not well qualified. He had no knowledge of the technical side of my profession, so made changes for political gain. He moved me out of my area of expertise, (akin to reassigning the Chief Surgeon to head-up the Accounting branch). It was a huge blow, as I spent years educating myself, passionate about my profession. Another big change happened when my 20 year old step son moved in with us while waiting to receive university application acceptances.

A year later and still not pregnant, my husband encouraged me to find a fertility doctor. We went to the appointment with high hopes and left in tears – literally, for three days, crying. I was told no fewer than six times that I had “lousy” eggs, and received a long dissertation on basic biology. It was cruel and insulting and left me very, very reluctant to ever again talk with a fertility doctor.

My hubby loves to talk to strangers. One of his random conversations provided us with the clinic name that helped us have the children we dreamed of. The doctors and nurses were kind, respectful, discrete and had a great success rate. I hit the jackpot, and I’m grateful every day for my blessings.