Somewhere Over the Rainbow
I wanted to have children even when I was myself a child. My mother would look at babies on the street with such a gleeful look in her eyes, and I guess she passed that on to me. In those days I was convinced I would be a successful lawyer with a big family by the age of 30, but life, as usual, felt like spicing it up… a lot! After two abortions and countless failed relationships (I know, this sounds like a terrible sob story, but please stay with me, it gets worse and then it gets better) my fiancé (at the time 47) and me, 41, decided in November 2019 to start trying for a little one. I remember thinking, “well, I know I can get pregnant, and he has two kids already, this should be super easy!” Well, you would be surprised how quickly your body refuses to give you what you want once you start looking for it.
After several months of failures, which came with feelings of guilt and shame, thinking: “I had my chance twice, and I wasted both”, adding a layer of stress to our relationship, we decided to visit a specialist. The doctor looked like he had seen it all and quickly ordered a round of what felt like a million tests. How many eggs did I have? Any diseases I wasn’t aware of? How are my levels of this and that and the other paired with my partner’s rushed trip to the doctor’s laboratory carrying his “essence” for testing made for fun times! I was truly grateful to have a good insurance plan. While waiting for the results, the magnificent dumpster fire that is covid-19 hit, halting every single step for us.
I can’t explain how draining and irritating the initial lockdown felt. We got our test results, leaving my partner feeling the proudest since, apparently, his sperm can populate a small planet, and myself feeling slightly inadequate but still hopeful for the results. It turns out I just need a bit of help in the ovulation department. Unfortunately thanks to Covid-19 the doctor wanted to wait until after lockdown was over, which felt like a death sentence to me; at times I swore I could hear my biological clock ticking at an insane speed.
While waiting for the first lockdown to pass, we miraculously conceived. I had no symptoms but there was the test, loud and clear, announcing a pregnancy. The joy lasted 1 day to be exact and on my birthday #42, I began to miscarry.
I mourn the loss of the little one but continue to feel positive as, to me, that short pregnancy was a sign of hope. We finally met with the specialist, and he prescribed some pills to help me ovulate. We waited a month to try again and like clockwork, I was again pregnant. The symptoms were there from the start, the mood swings, nausea, exhaustion, all of it. We began talking about names, and to dream of how the little one would look. And then the symptoms stopped. For a week, I tried to convince myself that it was okay, I wasn’t bleeding, but I wasn’t feeling anything either. And just like the last time, on a Thursday night, the blood made an appearance. The dreams went down the drain once more, and we struggled for a while. I was in the middle of finishing my master’s degree and I still don’t know how I found the strength to finish. The days were dark and painful for both of us. The doctor ordered more rounds of tests, with my bank account taking a painful hit and my body going through painful procedures. It is now a search for a rainbow baby.
And perhaps you all might wonder, is all the pain and expense worth it? I do not know, I don’t have a baby yet, but I can tell you that I have tried to visualise myself without children, and the image never comes.
It is in me to be a mother, and trying is all I can do, until I run out of time.
I recently joined a group of women online who are trying to conceive after the age of 40 and you’ll be amazed and heartbroken to know that my story is not the worst one. There is a lot of pain and frustration, but there is also hope - whenever a picture of a rainbow baby is posted, whenever we see the face of a smiling new mom, we think “this could be me next”. And who knows, maybe, as I write this, I already have a rainbow baby on the way; I just don’t know it yet.
Yahaira L. Reyes, December 2020.
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