When my husband was diagnosed with cancer the first thing we did was go to the fertility clinic and make a bank a tube of my husbands finest swimmers. We had an eight week old baby at the time, a baby that was to be our last. We didn’t know if he would he alive in a few months time and having more kids was the last thing on our minds.
After my husband finished chemo we were told the likely hood of us falling pregnant without assistance was pretty much zilch. My husband sat there a little defeated while I silently doing cartwheels inside my head. I’d just spent the last nine months dealing with three kids and a husband with cancer. I was done, diddly done. My husband however had other ideas.
The baby topic has been an on going issue in our household ever since my husband finished treatment, every time one of the kids reached another milestone and every time the kids did something absolutely cute/feral or just plain crazy. It was constantly on his mind. But my answer was always the same. Three was my number.
Everywhere we went people would always ask if we were going to have another? Perhaps a boy? And my answer was always the same. I’d tell them we were blessed with three and to have a fourth would require ivf and I just didn’t think health wise I had it in me. ivf always makes people act funny so the conversation would always turn quickly to something light and fluffy and a lot less painful and it almost felt like I won the battle for yet another day and could breathe a sigh of relief.
The last few months life has been crazy and stressful and just full on, but in a good way. Luigi was busy at work, I took over co-ordinating the local paper, our social life was booming, we’d had two trips home to the nt to visit luigi’s dad, we cancelled our overseas trip and so much more.
A few weeks ago when we were back in the NT I just felt like I was constantly going down hill. I was sitting in the lounge room at 7pm and I had decided that I had enough. So I pulled on some clothes and dragged myself down to the after hours clinic and plonked myself on the chair to see the doctor.
I sat in his office and told him all of my problems, he gave me a full check up and said I can’t find anything wrong with you. Honestly, I think your just a little stressed, you need to go home, have a rest and tomorrow you need to book yourself in and get a massage.
I went back to my car and sent a text to my mother: the doctor said nothings wrong and I should just go and get a massage. I don’t think so!
Then I started thinking about a conversation we had with friends just a few days ago. We were all sitting around the table and they joked how funny it would be if we were to have a surprise baby and it hit me I couldn’t remember the last time I had my period. I drove two blocks to the supermarket and headed straight towards the pregnancy tests. A girl I went to high school with was down there stacking shelves and I wasn’t in the mood for small talk so I did a few laps and returned a few minutes later and grabbed a pregnancy test off the shelf.