When I was pregnant people would say, “Your baby is probably gonna look like your husband.” I would say, “Oh it’s not his baby, but he’ll keep it anyways.”
Here’s my story of our little miracle. Six years of marriage brought us to a place where we were ready to talk babies. My husband had a vasectomy years ago and the way it was done had made it virtually impossible to reverse. So I was declared to have infertility issues by my MD and given a referral to the fertility clinic in Edmonton, Alberta. I was put on a waiting list because apparently everyone was having fertility issues.
After almost waiting a year, I had my first whirlwind of a doctor appointment. I had to have blood work, my husband had to have blood work and we both had to sign paper work. My husband and I had already agreed to use a donor. I was elated!
I went on fertility drugs, picked out my donor, bought three specimens, and waited to test my cycle for ovulation. I finally tested for ovulation time! I showed up at my appointment at the lab, waited two hours for preparation, and had the procedure done. I waited and got my period. What the heck? I was stunned. Wait a minute! I thought that you could get pregnant on the first try! I guess not.
In a state of disappointment, I tried three more times and nothing. I was devastated! Maybe I wasn’t meant to be a mother! People would ask me what was wrong with me. They’d say in a sorry tone of voice, “Oh you’re not pregnant yet?” After a trying to get pregnant hiatus I tried again. I was so sure I was pregnant this time. I was late and then I had a terrible period. I was so upset that I became depressed and sat on the couch for days.
I saw my fertility doctor again and she recommended that I go on hormone injections next. I said that I wanted to try one more time. After another break I tried once more. All I kept thinking while I waited was the enormous amount of stress that this had put on my marriage and the possible negative result which could mean even more tears and depression. I remember I was in school and I felt this pinching, poking sensation. I also saw a couple of spots. I thought that was weird, even weirder still, I WAS LATE! For the first time in 20 years, I WAS LATE!!
After almost 10 months later, multiple rounds of acupuncture, chiropractic care, an additional two weeks of pregnancy, a doula, over 50 hours of labour with no pain medications, and then a c-section; I had this beautiful baby boy. A boy, my son, my perfect little miracle.
So does it matter that he isn’t genetically related? No. Does it make it harder for my husband to love him? No. Will we tell him that he was created using a donor? Of course. Why would we do that? The unconditional love that we give our son will let him know that we are his parents, regardless of origin. He is and will always be our little miracle, wanted and created in love.