WE'RE HAVING A BABY!

- Ali Wolfe, Contributing Writing
 
When Brian and I got married in 2006, I was 32-going-on-33. I wouldn’t say that my biological clock kicked in the second we said our "I do’s,” but, since I have been ready for a baby since I cared for my dolls as if I were their "real" mother, the feeling was more like my internal tea kettle was going off. I just felt this insurmountable amount of pressure.  Some of this came from within myself, and some from the feeling that all eyes were on me and I was somehow being "timed."

Like so many young women with fantasies that they can plan their lives, I’d had it all figured out in my head. If we got pregnant 3 months after our wedding, it would be a pleasant surprise; 6 months would be expected; 9 months to a year and all the people who knew we were trying would start thinking something was wrong. (At that pint, I wouldn't dare think about the possibilities something being "wrong," and resorting to alternatives like Invitro Fertilization or Artificial Insemination.)

But, were they even really watching and counting, or was this all coming from my own insecurities?
 
My mother managed to stay aloof for 6 months, but my mother-in-law recently told me that her friends often badgered her about my conception plans. How humiliating that women I don’t even know, (whose own daughters and daughters-in-law were getting pregnant for the first, second, even third times) were acting as if there were some clandestine contest that I wasn't privy to. I think if I'd known this at the time, I would have had a nervous breakdown!

After months of trying, I instinctively knew something was wrong and consulted my doctor. I can understand why some women take so long to talk to their doctors because they don't want to feel crushed by what the prognosis might be. Our fears of infertility make us live as if in the shadows of society. But, I wanted a baby and would do anything to get it. First, Brian was checked, but after a month of examining his sperm, it was clear that the problem was with me.

I underwent an extremely painful Saline Hysterogram but unfortunately my tubes were blockedby polyps. The thought of a "tumor" put me into an instant tailspin (even though that word was never even uttered), and for the week leading up to the surgery, I lived in fear and blamed my age and past for what I saw as a grim diagnosis. I felt I was being punished for my sins, but in reality I was the one punishing myself.  Isn’t that what we do as women because we often can’t even be honest with each other, let alone ourselves?

All this time, it seemed everyone around me was getting pregnant; a girlfriend of mine who got married the weekend after me, my best friend who was having her third, another girlfriend having her second, even talk-show host Regis Philbin’s daughter! It was difficult to be disappointed month after month, and still genuinely feel happy for those around me who were so blessed.

During this time, Brian and I went to London, my favorite city. I was hoping to find out I was pregnant. I bought a pregnancy test Boots pharmacy (I was on my way to Paddington Station and got my period by the time I reached Windsor Castle some hours later.) At Boots, I expected to find the pregnancy tests hidden away in a back aisle as they are at CVS or Duane Reade in the States. Instead, I found a glowing, bright Pre & Post-Natal aisle with a variety of cheerful home pregnancy tests and even ovulation detectors (which are usually hidden behind the counter back home). 

It hit me that purchasing these can often seem defeating enough that keeping them behind the counter (no prescription is necessary) makes the whole thing feel like contraband Canadian pharmaceuticals. But in the dazzlingly sunny British store, there are a plethora of prenatal Vitamins and even books on conceiving, which makes women feel beautiful and special, rather than like illicit Handmaidens.

That is when I decided that all the taboos and pressures American women feel about having babies is not in our heads; it’s part of a bigger sociological problem of how women are treated here when it comes to our health, well being, and spirit. All those months that I was trying to get pregnant I felt so defeated -- as if I was losing a contest (me against womankind, or, rather, against myself). I feel sad writing about it now because upon reflection, it was such a lonely time for me. I felt embarrassed because I was losing "the competition" against my own ego and shame. We’d go out to dinner with friends and sometimes they’d ask and I’d feel like making up some excuse for my "shortcomings" as a woman. When they would’t ask, I’d feel anxious because I knew they were thinking "it."

But the storm-clouds have cleared, and as I write this, I am happy to say that I am a glorious 16-weeks pregnant and I have never felt more beautiful or self-confident. The morning I found out I was pregnant was the single best of my adult life, and I am filled with so much hope and elation for the future. So, I feel it is important to share my fears, hopes and happiness with other women who have struggled (or are currently struggling) to conceive. It is important to be open and honest, because in the end we are all sisters with the same dream.