Anne-Davnes Elser

~:I • B L A M E • H I M:~

January, 2006. A new year. After a two years of trying to create, let alone maintain a pregnancy, we are successful on a cold January morning. Doug's on his way out da doh for his day, having just ran and showered. I've just come upstairs from a peaceful morning of knitting with Bjorn and the cats. I'm due to meet Marlis and Molly for our weekly coffee gig at Java Monkey. The sun is out and pouring into the bedroom. It's a little chilly. It's Friday and am relishing in the joy of working for myself, rather than the big man. Life is good.

So you wanna try real quick? I had been charting my temps for a while and thought this moment was perfect.
Sure. I gotta be at work soon though.
Yeah, and I'm meeting the girls for brunch.
OK .
Hold on a sec.
And poof, we laugh, get dressed and go on about our day.

My advice to infertile couples? Do it on a sunny Friday morning before you go to work. Don't even think about it. And make sure you do a lot of laughing.

Next thing I know, I'm peeing on a stick on a mid-morning Saturday thinking, "This is stupid that I'm even looking at this thing." Yeah right. Like I could actually BE pregnant.

I see 2 faint lines.
Two this time.
And I know.
And I put my hand over my open mouth. And I am happy.
And petrified.

I stand up and walk over to the window where I will find Doug in his work clothes setting up a ladder in the driveway right below our bedroom window. I crack open the window wide open and shout out to him, " Catch!" And throw him the stick. He catches it, looks down, covers his mouth, looks up at me again and falls to the ground, clutching his heart. Within 10 seconds he's back in the house we are crying in each other's arms. And the saga of a second pregnancy begins. It's a miracle.

Bimp is here. We hang on this time and decide to wait until after the 1st trimester to share our news. Nausea has the best of me for 2.5 months. But I am beaming inside. I even have a couple of students ask what's up with me? How come you're glowing? And friends who could just "tell" whose response to the eventual news was, "I KNEW it." or "You were pregnant in my dream last night."

Now we come to the present.
And I have just returned from a group meeting on this floor where I met other HRP mothers in much the same situation as I. It was touching to hear other stories and feel strength from other people. It felt really good to cry and to watch other women struggle with the same emotions. Many, many of them had had previous miscarriages. I wish I had known them 2 years ago when we had ours. I would have felt less alone. And there's nothing like the support you get from common experiences.

Tonight there were 2 other women lying on their sides on stretchers. Everyone else was in a wheelchair like me. Nearly everyone mentioned some kind of faith based strength, which I thought was nice. Half of us couldn't make it through the whole meeting without leaving to pee at least once. We laughed and we cried. Mostly, I listened. There was a lot of love in that room. And a whole lot of patience.

I am amazed at the process of motherhood. I am humbled by it. My dear friend Gray came to visit me yesterday and he actually complimented my hormones for doing their job. Hormones not only effect you emotionally - preparing you for a lifetime of sacrifice and work and joy, but they're the things that tell your uterus to get ready, your brain to start thinking differently, your ligaments to loosen up. It's all connected. This involuntary network of things that need to be done to create a life - a new person.

Another thing I talked with Gray about was the new kind of love and admiration I have for Doug. It's like falling in love all over again. This love is NOTHING compared to the initial infatuation I felt when we first met and were dating. This love is something altogether different. I want to see him as a father more than anything else. Seriously - more than my need for motherhood. Just to be a part of providing him with the fatherhood role is really amazing. I feel incredible blessed. It's more of a turn on than anything else I can think of. I've always known I wanted to have children, but never in my life did I think it would be this much fun to give a child to a man. Makes me wonder if children should come first before marriage. I know it sounds crazy. I feel crazy saying it. But oh my God, the wedding, the meeting, the dating - all that feels so trivial compared to this baby. This is where the real fun begins. And I can't believe I'm saying FUN while here in the hospital.

Dougie Fresh - just LOOK at the mess you got me into. Knocked up in the hospital - my freedom, my job, my home, my pets - all taken away from me and replaced with an army of nurses whose job it is to ask you the most embarrassing personal questions, ALL DAY LONG. All dignity lost. I cry in front of everyone.

Yes. I blame this man.

And I thank this man.

For sticking with me.

For making me a mother.