Impossible Possibility - 01

In December of 2005, after six years without a menstrual cycle, and a few weeks before our wedding, my fiancé Matthew and I decided to make an appointment at one of the leading fertility diagnostic centers in the San Francisco Bay area. We wanted to completely understand what it was we were dealing with and what, if any chances we would have at conceiving a biological child.

Tests were ordered for us both and after countless vials of blood had been spun, exams performed and the obligatory ‘swimmer test’ for my partner was evaluated we sat before the doctor, awaiting the verdict.In a re assuring tone we were simply told that I along with countless other women in the 21st Century, was ‘unable to naturally conceive’. It happens to other women my age and they were not quite sure why.

I simply did not ovulate thus the missing menses. I was in the ‘grey zone’. The answers were unsatisfactory YET THE ALTERNATIVES proposed were none that Matthew and I even wanted to venture into. In- vitro fertilization’ along with the hormonal injections appealed to many couples yet to us it just seemed like too much pushing into a direction that for one reason or another was not organically opening on its own. We decided to leave it alone and accept what was on our plate.

Surrender became my mantra and as the angst of being told I could not bear my own children settled I began to remember the countless humanitarian treks I had been part of, the endless numbers of orphans I had visited and the great need there was on our planet for adoption. One day, if I so had this yearning, certainly I could take that road.

As plans for biological parenting were put aside, ironically on February 2006, I got my first period of six years. Figuring it into all of the physical and emotional work I had been embarking on I recognized it as a wonderful sign of deep healing taking place. I had been working at achieving a balance in my life and this seemed to be a precious affirmation that all was falling into place.

We were married on December 17th and when January rolled around I decided to shuffle yet another piece of the healing puzzle and consider what I had been putting off for years. I had spinal stenosis and was in serious need of surgery. I had lost a considerable amount of muscle and nerve on my right side and my condition was worsening. Knowing now that we would not be focusing on children I wrestled procrastination aside and began the process of interviewing surgeons.

There seemed to be so much to consider and I recognized the decision I was about to make seemed to be bringing up every fear under the sun. I knew recovery would take months. I knew that the biggest challenge I was up against in that recovery was learning to be still and setting aside my usual wild fire pace so that healing could take place. I had a daily mediation practice yet I was able to control the time spent in the stillness. This would be different. A 3 month immersion that I must surrender to. I decided I was ready. And that the longer I waited the harder it would be.

March 10th, 2006 I entered Marin General Hospital for what turned out to be an 8 hour spinal fusion. It was a harrowing ordeal and far more intense than I think anyone anticipated. Those first days recovering in the hospital were terrifying. I was wracked with doubt and fear that I had made a terrible decision, that perhaps I would never walk again, that matters might be far worse than ever before. Thankfully I was wrong and as I began to recover and learn to walk and move I began to notice a new strength in my leg and that the old pain was no where to be found. My decision was the right one and I was very very fortunate. But the road ahead was still long and winding and little did I know but the true test was about to unfold.

Moving from hospital to home, slowly regaining strength, surrendering to rest seemed to be the task at hand. It was easier said than done. As I gingerly began to move, first with a walker and then about 10 days post surgery, without, I noticed that my breasts were extremely painful. Thinking it must be a reaction from the medication I shrugged it off. Yet as the pain persisted I became convinced it must be my hormonal fluctuations yet again. Oddly I had one more period at the beginning of March but it was no where near normal and now 20 days or so later I was still spotting. I decided to call my gynecologist.

I can still remember the conversation and my irritation. As I told him that my nipples were in competition with my back pain and pleaded for some remedy, he went through all of the standard questions. Date of last period, etc, etc. I was informed that before he would give me provera, a drug to regulate the hormones and sort of ‘clean the palate’, we should do a full panel pregnancy test. I seriously thought, yeah, whatever, just let’s get it done. After all I was deemed unable to “naturally conceive” by several doctors, including him, so in my mind that simply was not even a slight option.

Still unable to drive and harnessed in my post surgical corset, Matthew helped me into the car and drove us to the nearest lab. We laughed and joked; only for glimpses did we even consider the possibility.

On the following Friday, I left a rude message for my OBGYM that he had not yet responded and my tits were still killing me (the thought of getting through the weekend without a remedy was unbearable). Still unable to shower due to the 4 inch incision and remaining bandages I stood naked in my kitchen trying to instruct my Matthew on the art of washing and conditioning hair in a kitchen sink. He had a sponge in his hand as the phone rang so moved to answer it, not wanting to miss the chance that it could be Dr. Horwitz. Caller id revealed the ob office and I immediately picked up.

“Carré”?

“Yes, speaking. Hey Jordan. Did you get my message?” I asked hoping he had called in the provera prescription to Wallgreens.

“Did you get the news?” he asked. “The news from the test?”

I slowed down and caught Matthews eyes... he stopped in his tracks and just looked at me.

“Um, no. what news?” my heart was starting to race. Time seemed to stand still. Why did I have a feeling he was about to say…

“You’re pregnant.”…

Dead silence. I couldn’t even fathom. I thought I might faint. A million emotions exploded all at once and I stood with my mouth hanging open.

“I’m what”? I asked incredulous. Mathews and my gaze were now in a lock. He knew. He could sense. I needed say not one word. All was revealed in the silence. And then the flurry began. As I stammered to articulate all that was coming up I just let it flow…

“Wait a minute Jordan…I just had a massive surgery. 8 hours of anesthesia, x-rays, drugs, I have probably done everything you are not supposed to do when you are pregnant. This cannot be a good situation. Is it ok?” I felt the first wave of a panic I would have to learn to ride in the months to come. I desperately wanted him to tell me it would all be ok but I knew he could not.

The best he had to offer was “Let’s get you in for an Ultrasound as soon as possible and see if we can get a heartbeat”. As I hung up the phone a smile spread over my face. Such a potent mix of joy and worry seemed to wash over me. Looking my husband in the eye, both of us just shaking our heads in disbelief we began to laugh. How this could ever be, how it might unfold from here on out, however it might work out, we were in it together. We hadn’t even broached the very realistic concern of whether or not my back, now fused, could possibly support the weight of a pregnant belly. And we just had to surrender to faith. Trust in one another and the absolute truth that everything that arises is exactly the way it is supposed to be. Like it or not, this was the road we were traveling.

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