My Infertility Story – Our triumph

As promised, meet our miracle baby, Theodore Ronald Norris Price. You might be wondering why the many names and why are they so strong. Well, Theodore means ‘gift of God’. Ronald is my father’s name and Norris, my husband’s father’s name. Our families came together for us in so much support and prayers during the pregnancy and so we saw it fit to honor them by giving our son the names of the patriarchs. Whenever we think of our son’s names, it is definitely a reminder of this and so we will never forget.

When we took Theodore home from the maternity home, I laid him down in the playpen and remember feeling so terrified as I did not know what next to do. I was so scared I would break him or something and so I just quickly put him down. I thought all the experience of babysitting my neighbors' children and my niece and nephews would count for something. Thanks to my mother-in-law, she supported us in such an amazing way and I drew heavily on her experience, having raised four boys and so in no time I jumped right in and did what every mother does naturally, take care of her baby. I also knew I had to get it right quickly as the rest of the world was waiting to meet our miracle baby.

I remember a few days after I had taken him home, I had just breastfed him and felt so overcome with joy that I began to cry. I was crying first out of joy and then I was crying for all women who are yearning for this great privilege and those who will never have it. Yes, I was crying for all of you, my readers experiencing infertility, as no woman should have to be sentenced (outside of their will) to a life of never experiencing a pregnancy, and so is never able to feel the emotions involved in staring in the face of a satisfied child after he has been breastfed. Or experience the intimacy of just holding your child, a child that came from your loins, someone so intimately connected to you, for all eternity.

Our son is now twenty months old and he is way ahead of his age. He is so helpful. In the mornings, he climbs on the back of the sofa and open the windows. Mind you those windows are intricate to open, but he manages to do it. His father usually lift him up to the chain for the ceiling fans and with instructions from him, he would pull on each of them and turn them on. I have since banned him from opening them though as he broke one and we had to get an electrician to fix it. He even helps us to pack out groceries but we have to watch him as he helps himself to stuff, my tomatoes does not stand a chance, he bites into them through the packaging. So you see, he actually has chores already and looks forward to doing them, well at least for now because I know when he is older, like every child, he will not want to do his chores. We have started encouraging him already by applauding his efforts so we hope that will encourage him to continue to want to help out in his little way around the house. Bless his little heart.

He loves turning on and off the television and changing channels etc., one day he went to turn it on and realized that it was not coming on. To my astonishment, he turned and looked up at the ceiling fan. Electricity was in fact gone and I was so amazed to see how he was able to actually figure that out and walked away from the television.

He is so daring and full of life, sometimes I wonder if we are enough to keep him safe, but as my mother-in-law remarked when I told her he had fallen off the bed before I could reach him, “God keeps them safe, he raises up the floor to them when they fall.” I believe that very much and I take comfort in it.

His favorite television shows are, Hi-5 and Mister Maker on Discovery Kids and The Ellen Degeneress Show and the game show, Deal or no Deal on NBC. He likes the Ellen show because he likes to dance. For Deal or no Deal, he likes when the participants say, “No Deal” he actually imitates them and it is such a precious moment to watch.

He is also a good footballer. He kicks with such force and precision. We see the World Cup in his future.

At nights, when he wants to sleep, he finds me and pull me to cuddle with him until he falls asleep and any night I do not get to do it, I feel so cheated, so disappointed, as I actually look forward to it. One day I said to him, do you know how special you are? I was certainly not expecting what I heard next, he said, ‘mm mm.’ I was astonished to say the least, it was so dead on, that I thought he actually understood what I was saying.

Last April I took him to daycare because I was starting a job. The Friday evening of the first week of the job I went to pick him up as usual and the lady at the daycare told me he had a slight fever and we are to watch it. I did not take it for anything, I thought he was just teething. Later that evening, the fever intensified and so we gave him some children’s panadol. This took the fever down but we realized that as soon as the medication wore off, the fever came back. It continued like that for the rest of the weekend. This was truly a difficult weekend, this being our first encounter with him being sick. I tried to remain calm for my husband who was terrified but inside, I too was terrified. We took him to the doctor the Monday morning and he was diagnosed with tonsillitis. I was so taken aback, as I thought that tonsillitis only affected bigger children and adults. He received medication but the fever still continued and so I called the doctor and ask him if this fever should not be checking by now. He said it will run its course for three days after he began the medication. I was relieved but three days was really too long to see him sick. He was just too vibrant and full of life to just lie there so listless, so sick. I could not take it, I broke down because I missed him, I missed his vibrancy and I was just not accustomed to seeing him so sick. He got better by the end of the week and I was so happy to have my healthy baby boy again. I had to sacrifice my job to stay home with him though, but I am alright with that, my child that I pulled from God's firm grip, comes first.

He became sick again a couple months ago and I prayed that it did not turn out to be like the last one. God seem to have answered my prayers, as the fever went away on its own soon after. I was relieved. I ask God to keep him well but I know this is not really possible because children do touch dirty things and pick up all kinds of germs and so this is indeed part of the package.

It is such a joy to wake up in the mornings and hear him trying to wake up and having conversations with himself. Especially on weekends, it is really a special moment to put him in the bed with us in the mornings and have him entertain us. We do enjoy the blessings of those moments.

As I said in previous post, I wonder very often these days, if God ever intended for me to have children of my own, given the difficult time I had. That I will never know. One thing I know however, is that I am eternally grateful to him, whether I forced his hands or not and this is something I will never take for granted. I will do everything I can to be a mother who is always there for her children, one who listens, one who instills the appropriate discipline and still be their greatest cheerleader and most of all one who is ever grateful, so grateful for this opportunity.



Join me in my next post for the conclusion of my infertility story.

My Infertility Story – Our triumph cont'd.

The pregnancy, from the time we saw the positive result, was packed with stress and anxiety because even though we were feeling blessed and had accepted it as God’s doing, being human as I am, could not shake the feeling that I would again suffer another miscarriage……

I remember telling one of my friends back home how afraid I was, and it is like God spoke through her to me. She said, “girl, God would never put you through that again.” I believed and that was what I held on to throughout the entire pregnancy.

When I was in the fourth month of my pregnancy, I was sent to do an anomaly scan, to check if the baby was developing properly. As the day of my appointment approached, I became more and more terrified. I was so relieved when the day finally came and the doctor proceeded to do the scan and was ticking off everything for the baby that was developing well. His heart rate was so strong that he even remarked that he was not expecting such a strong heart rate at this stage. We were overjoyed we started calling our families to tell them the good news, it did not matter the costs of the phone calls, we were just so happy. I knew our triumph was on the way, I could feel it.

Even though we knew our baby was developing well my anxieties still continued as the pregnancy was difficult. I had severe cramping, light bleeding, luckily not the dangerous one, and infections. I had too much amniotic fluid which could prove detrimental for the baby. I also had a low placenta which could cause severe bleeding at delivery if a vaginal birth is attempted. It caused me even more anxiety when someone remarked that I looked as if I was ready for delivery, when I was nowhere near my due date.

At times I even felt like I was in premature labor as my stomach would stiff up so badly. I remember one instance I felt so afraid I called my doctor and told her what I was experiencing and she prescribed some medication to ease the cramping and stiffening a bit. She also suggested bed rest.

My total weight gain for this entire pregnancy was 23 pounds, yes you hear right 23 pounds, and that is the minimum requirement for a pregnancy. I was putting on weight so slowly that I thought my baby was not growing. I felt constantly bloated and even though I was hungry as soon as I started eating I felt full instantly and this was happening from the very beginning of my pregnancy. I told one of the midwives about this problem and she said it could be because I was having dairy milk along with iron that I was on. I changed from dairy milk to rice milk but did not feel much different. I was so terrified each month when I weighed and I had only put on 2 or 3 lbs. My doctor advised though that I should not worry and I should be lucky that at the end of the pregnancy I will not have too much weight to lose. I was not comforted by this at all, I needed to know is that my baby was alright. Someone even mentioned that I looked small for my dates and that depressed me for days.

About two weeks before my due date, my doctor realized that the baby was in breech position. She was not amused, I was not too as I was not looking forward to a C-section and plus I would have to spend so much more money for that. A few days before my due date I went in to check the position of the baby and to our delight, he was now in the correct position for a vaginal birth. I was so overjoyed, I started making plans for the money I would save.

As the week of my due date approached, my doctor told me that if I felt any form of cramping I should come in to be checked out. I felt the cramping and so I went in. When the midwife proceeded to examine me, I found that she was squeezing and squeezing my stomach. This felt a bit odd and soon after she remarked that she could not feel my baby. I turned pale, whatever does she mean, I thought, this is now a full term baby and should be big enough for her to feel. I was confused, my fears were about to come true, my baby probably had not developed to full size. She then remarked that it could be that my stomach was tense. I accepted that, I had no choice I had to accept that as I refuse to be told anything more detrimental.
I was sent home and hardly slept a wink that night. I still felt slight movements from the baby and so I was comforted that he was in fact there, of course, where else could he be. I did not hear him leave.

My due date arrived, labor had not started but no problem I would be induced. Induction was not successful at all, the contractions came but they did not pick up as the baby was still high up into my pelvis. I walked, I bounced, I took warm showers and nothing happened. I was feeling like a turkey being prepared for the Thanksgiving table and was so sore from all the examinations to see the position of the baby. I felt so tired and frustrated I remember I began to cry but quickly stopped as I did not want to cause the baby any undue stress. Luckily though throughout this all, his heart rate was still strong. Only dropping a beat or two at times and this was very reassuring.

I remember after an examination, I just said in frustration to the midwife, I have had enough, call the doctor and ask her to come prepared with her C-section team, this baby needs to come out now. I was so terrified that something bad was going to happen and to make matters worse, we had flown my mother-in-law in to be with us for this and the last thing I wanted was for anything to go wrong and she be witness to it.
The next morning I woke up, hardly remembering what had transpired the night before. Everything seemed so normal, all the drugs had worn out of my system and I was feeling as if I was not even there to have a baby.

The afternoon came and I was prepared for surgery. All I remember was that I felt so disappointed when I heard the midwife say to my husband that he is not allowed into the Operating Room as it was a sterile environment. I was however not disappointed for long as I slowly began to drift off into unconsciousness.

When I woke from surgery, I remember asking for my husband. This was premeditated as I thought that when I saw my husband’s face then I would know if everything was alright with our baby. My mother-in-law, hearing me, thought I was asking for the baby and proceeded to present him to me. I reached out and touched his little feet and whispered a thank you prayer to God. Our baby was alright or else he would not have been in our possession. All my plans of embracing him and crying tears of joy and triumph when he was presented to me, went through the window. That touch, that simple touch was enough at the moment, as I was still weak from surgery and suffering from a fever as well and I was now sure that my struggles with infertility was behind me.

Our triumph had come, weighting seven pounds exactly (God’s perfect number), and the seventh grandchild for my parents, born on Saturday June 16, 2007 at 1:15 p.m., a beautiful, perfect and healthy baby boy. I was later diagnosed with a narrow pelvis as that was the reason why the baby was not assuming a position for a vaginal birth. This was indeed a fight to the finish, but a fight that was so worth it.

Just a thought that came to me recently, I wonder if it was in God's plan for me to bear children, as I had so much working against me. I must have forced his hand then...mmm.

Quite a mouthful I might say. Hope I did not bore you. Please join me in my next post as I introduce you to our miracle baby, up close and personal.

My Infertility Story – Our triumph

As promised, here is the triumphant part of our story which I am so excited to tell.

Our triumph came, after more than a decade long of struggling with infertility, our triumph came and we were elated……..

We had just relocated from our home country and we were busy settling in to what would now be our new home. I was preoccupied with trying to secure a job and my husband was settling into his new job. There were no immediate plans to resume trying to get pregnant as yet, as we wanted to be settled into our new environment enough to take this next step and I was still allowing my body to recover from my last miscarriage. Our plans were not to be delayed for too long though as we were encouraged by one of our doctors to try to become pregnant by the end of that year, given my issue with age, and this was September. We were however oblivious to what was about to unfold that would change our lives forever.

I was expecting my period as usual that month and it had not shown up as yet. I did not take it for anything as I just thought I was experiencing anxiety with everything new that was happening to me. Days passed and still no period showed up and I started to feel a little nausea and some fatigue. I still thought I just had nervous stomach. The symptoms intensified and we decided to do a pregnancy test. There was no great hurry as we really were not expecting anything and was also not in any mood for any more disappointments. We did the test, quite timely I might add, and left it on the nightstand. As we re-entered the room to check the results, we realized that we could see the positive result from the door, (yes it was that bright, it’s like it was screaming at us, ‘you guys are pregnant, hip, hip hooray’).

We were dumbstruck at first as we were thinking, wow, this is certainly not the right time for us but were also elated because with our struggles, we did not want to give up on any opportunity to be excited about being pregnant, plus given our long struggle with infertility, we have no right saying this was not the right time, how dare us. We then began to get into pregnancy mode. I was scared at first not knowing any doctors or hospitals as yet and so I took the telephone directory and began to randomly call around to get information. It turns out no one wanted to give me any information, they wanted me to make an appointment and come in to see them and I did not want that, not just yet, I just wanted to check them out so that I can choose the best place for my prenatal care and the delivery of our child.

I remember getting so frustrated I called my friend back home and told her I was pregnant and think I might just come back home. Of course she gave me a dose of reality check and advised me against it. Fortunately, soon afterwards, we were recommended to a maternity centre and luck was on our side. We found a doctor and staff that made us feel so at home almost immediately. After that we knew without a doubt that this pregnancy was God’s doing and we had no choice but to embrace this great blessing as our timing surely by no means is His.

The pregnancy, from the time we saw the positive result, was packed with stress and anxiety because even though were feeling blessed and had accepted it as God’s doing, being human as I am, I could not shake the feeling that I would again suffer another miscarriage……

Join me in my next post as I relate how we made it through the longest and most stressful pregnancy ever