My Recent Trip To the (In)fertility Doctor

I decided that I needed to close the infertility chapter of my life. My son is now 7 months old, and I promised the clinic nurse when she called in MAY that I would bring tater tot in for everyone to see. It's now January. I felt like something was not officially 'closed' in my life, and I knew it was visiting Dr. S, will post pictures later, and showing him the second son he helped us have. The second miracle, blessing, in our lives. It was now or never. I also was inspired by this blogger's recent visit to the RE, http://tertiasoclose.typepad.com.

I live 40 minutes from my RE. I didn't remember just how long the trip was until today. With two children 3 and under in my can. As I neared the office, I got that familiar nervous feeling. I scoffed at myself and reminded myself that my two children have been born and are in my car. Just look at them, why are you worried??? I guess some habits die hard. Because I was ALWAYS worried while on the way to the RE's. The closer I got the more worried I became that something would go wrong.

I called yesterday to ask what the best time would be to come in since I didn't want to come in while patients were there. Even though first thing in the morning is best for my boys, I wanted to spare the patients still going through treatment. I had been there, and I will never forget it. The receptionist told me noon as that is the doctor's lunchtime. You see where this is going, right? Yes, I walk in and there are patients there, even a husband! Not a good sign, as there are rarely men at an RE's office, at least the ones I have been to, and that is three. I immediately felt terrible about it. I wanted to tell them all that I had called, that I was not some unsympathetic person who doesn't remember where she came from. I wanted to scream: I HAD TO DO IVF TO HAVE THIS BUNDLE OF JOY I AM HOLDING!!!! I UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU'RE GOING THROUGH. I REMEMBER, and I do. The IVF that ultimately resulted in R., now to be known as 'tater tot', almost was cancelled. And you can guess what happened that day, can't you? Yes, a happy couple who had their first child after IF treatment just walked in. The husband said to Dr. S., "It worked!" sarcastically as they toted in their bundle of joy for all to see. MF'er! He said this as Dr.S. was telling me if the amount of follicles didn't improve, then he was cancelling the cycle. This would be indicative of future cycles, so he would advise me not to try any further. He said this as I am watching their beautiful baby go by. I was mad; Dr. S. sent them into his office to wait, and I then went into my car to cry, and cry, and cry.... S. was truly going to be an only child after all; my worst fear. It all hinged on the next ultrasound. I was thinking about that when I walked in and saw those women, and man. I looked at the woman who drew my blood for 15 months, who used to entertain my son and call him her 'boyfriend, who clearly did NOT remember me ( I remember HER as the WORST blood-taker EVER), and asked her if I could sit in the back room where no one would have to see us. I was cursing in my head as this all went on. I mean I CALLED. I shouldn't have bothered.

Well, I saw my IVF nurse and asked her if she remembered me. She said of course. I'm sure she remembers me as the anal retentive woman who called about the schedule, who called when her meds. arrived to make sure I had the right everything, the one who had the other nurse call her when I was given the Follistim pen to use and then boxes of the original Follistim. I had been told I was going to use the new pen, and NOT the old way; syringes. They were very kind to give me the Follistim since I was paying CASH. My hubby's insurance doesn't pay a dime for anything fertility related. Ef-ers. Yes, I am type A, and I am SURE she remembered that. So be it. She was very nice, as was Dr. S's wife. Dr. S. was very busy, so we got a few pictures and were in and out in 10 minutes. 80 minutes in the car for a ten minute hello, mainly with people OTHER than Dr.S. Fine, whatever. His wife told me to keep bringing the boys back, but with that kind of drive, I know I'm not going to. I'll send pictures, but that's it. Plus, I don't ever want to relive that experience again. Being back there brought it all back to me. Yes, I always will remember how my children came to us, but somehow that memory faded with all the rigors of taking care of two active boys. Being in that waiting room, the same smell in the air. Looking at the chairs I sat in, the bathroom I went in, the blood draw chair, the bench I sat on while I waited for my turn with lovely ultrasound machine. The countless appointments, disappointments, hope, grief, dread, anticipation all came back to me. And I wanted to leave, I wanted to run and forget this ever happened to me. That I ever went through all of that. The guilt I felt for dragging my child S. to all of the countless appointments while I should have been nurturing him, engaging him, instead of wasting precious time in the car. The guilt over the belief that he may really be an only child, and he was going to hate me for it, I just knew it! My stupid body, why was this happening to me! Why me? Hadn't I Been through enough, damn it?! What else was I supposed to learn??? I wanted to run. Run away, and this time I realized I could. I had my two babies. No, I did not have the one boy-one girl family that I always thought I'd have, but I HAVE my two children. I could leave and know that my son has a brother. He has a sibling, which is all I ever truly wanted for him.

As we walked out the door, my son S. said to me, "I really like that doctor's office, mommy." I swear he said that. It was then that I realized he didn't remember ever being there. He didn't remember all the times I read to him in the waiting room to keep him quiet because I felt so guilty over bringing a child into an infertility clinic. The times I apologized to the other childless patients, telling them I was sorry but I had no one else to watch him. He doesn't remember me feeding him Gerber fruit snacks on his stroller's tray so I could have my ultrasound done. He doesn't remember how he used to get excited when the nurse turned out the lights, and the doctor turned on the bright light when the ultrasound began. He doesn't remember me having my blood drawn, and how he used to look at me quizzingly, obviously thinking what the hell was happening to mommy, but not being able to say those words. He doesn't remember the long rides in the car, or any of the people who worked there. He doesn't remember any of it.

After I put tater tot and him into their car seats, I breathed in deeply, thanked God for my miracles, and went to hug them again. And I thanked God that S. doesn't remember any of it. As I pulled into the McDonald's drive-thru, I noticed it. My older son had grabbed my baby's hand and held it. I had the camera out from the visit, and I was able to capture that moment on film. Thank you God for my boys. I looked at those hands interlocked, and saw the bond of brotherhood, something I never had foreseen. I had a brother, my mom had a brother, my dad a sister. I didn't know the bond brothers had. I just imagined them being physical with one another. But no, I saw the emotional bond. That bond forming at such a young age. Maybe my older son does remember some of it, just differently. Maybe he is thankful for his brother. Maybe some day he will thank God for his brother just like I thank God every day for the both of them. I sure hope so. To think four years ago I thought I may never have one baby, and now I have two. And they are boys, they are mine, they are beautiful. J. and my gifts, our miracles, our blessings. The linking of two brother's hands. How symbolic. May they always be linked. My they always love each other the way their father and I love them.

I was waiting for so long, for a miracle to come.
Everyone told me to be strong, Hold on and don't shed a tear.
Through the darkness and good times, I knew I'd make it through.
And the world thought I had it all, BUT I WAS WAITING FOR YOU.
'A New Day Has Come', Celine Dion

I waited a long time for you, my boys. And you know what? You were worth it; you were worth everything. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone.
Love, Mama