All about Reagan, Part II:Conception

I read a study once that said that parents who suffered from infertility issues made better parents than those that didn't. Their conclusion was that parents that had to go through infertility issues wanted their children more and had more time to get used to the idea than those that didn't. I don't know if their study is correct, but I can tell you that Reagan was very much wanted and loved, before we even knew her.

I wasn't always sure I wanted children. I spent most of my 20's and into my 30's being a child myself. Bill will be the first to admit he spent his entire adult life ensuring that he would not have a "little Bill." But after we had been dating a while the subject of children came up and I knew I wanted children and Bill admitted he could see us heading that direction one day.

About six months after we were married I convinced Bill it was time to start trying to have children. I wasn't getting any younger. He wasn't so sure but he went with it for my sake. My first month off the pill I was so excited about the possibility I took a pregnancy test even before my period was due. It was positive! I couldn't believe it! Bill couldn't believe it! I was in a panic. Bill was in a bigger panic, almost to the point of hyperventilation. Bill said, "I know we agreed to start trying, but I wasn't ready for this. I wasn't expecting this so soon."

Just a few days later, our panic of an impending bundle of joy turned to panic of impending doom. I was having a miscarriage and we both spent several days in tears and agony. It was at that point that we knew we wanted a child and we had already loved the one we lost only a few weeks in my womb.

We decided to keep trying and it led to several more losses and a lot more heartache. We turned to an infertility specialist and he did every test under the sun on Bill and me. While all of Bill's soldiers proudly checked out fine, I was diagnosed with PCOS, blod clotting disorder, low progesterone, luteral phase defect, and endemetriosis (which I had a surgical scrape for). By this time we were two years into trying and during the process while my initial problem had been staying pregnant, all of the sudden I stopped ovulating and could no longer get pregnant either. So I had to take even more pills (20 a day), Bill gave me shots in the butt, and then we were going to start with Intrauterine Injection s(IUI), or as Bill fondly refers to it "The Turkey Baster."

We were on round one of IUI. It's not exactly the glamour you envision for the conception of your firstborn, or anyborn for that matter: Bill spanks into a cup, we have to rush down to the doctor before the soldiers refuse to fight the good fight (30 minute window), they spin it in some high tech thingy (medical term) and put it in a solution and put it into a syringe (aka "the turkey baster"), I lay on the table, and an 80-year old man squirts Bill's soldiers into place with the turkey baster while Bill holds my hand. Nothing to do after that but hope that two weeks later I'm pregnant.

I was pretty sure that wasn't going to work. We were two and a half years into the process and that just didn't seem like that was going to be the magic bullet (no pun intended there). But two weeks later I hop up on the ultrasound table, they examine me, and what do you know? I'm pregnant! With TWINS!

To be continued....