Yes, we are those annoying people who are not going to reveal the name of their offspring until he/she is born. Why? Mainly because we don’t want to see the looks on anyone’s face if they don’t like our chosen names. After all it’s hard to say you don’t like a baby’s name once the baby is ACTUALLY named, right? Plus, we like to be a little contrary. We were going to not find out the gender until the birth, but not knowing the names is torture enough for some members of my family. So, for now, we shall call him/her ‘Cletus’… as in “Cletus the Fetus’… no offense to anyone named Cletus, it’s just the only thing we could think of that rhymed with fetus.
To say we are happy about Cletus is definitely an understatement. We are over the moon about Cletus. We wholeheartedly consider Cletus a miracle, given that, as I’ve said before, it was supposed to be medically impossible for us to conceive on our own. Are we the only people who have ever gotten pregnant after being told they couldn’t? No, of course not. But, Cletus is most certainly our little miracle baby. Every good and perfect gift, right? So, we’ve managed to do what 95% of people are able to do, and are in fact, with child. So, the whole infertility thing is over, right? We’ve accomplished our goal. We are no longer in the ‘IF” club, right? Big ol’ wrong!
No matter how many children we have, biological or otherwise, the label will still be attached, and it colors everything. Everyone’s experience is different. Everyone has a different take on things. How does it affect me? It means that I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the rug to be pulled out from under me. I can’t describe how incredibly blessed and happy I feel getting to have this experience. Perhaps I took it for granted before I was told that I wasn’t going to be able to do it. But, it’s very strange to mix that feeling of blessed and happy with the feeling that this can’t be really happening.
What is impossible with God? Nothing. But in the deep smothering blanket that is infertility, it is very hard not to become very involved with the science. And according to science, this is supposed to be impossible.
So, what does that look like for me? It looks like me having to force myself to tell my family and friends we are expecting, as I was so terrified that things were going to end badly any day, because it had to be too good to be true. It looks like me absolutely panicking in the middle of Target, like in tears panicking, because my mother wanted to buy me a maternity shirt, just to celebrate. I was 9 weeks along at the time, and the only thought that was going through my head was “I’m only 9 weeks. This is still just a fluke. And then I’ll just be an infertile woman with a maternity shirt”.
Sundays are my favorite day of the week now. Why? Because each Sunday marks a new week in my pregnancy, another week down. Another week I don’t have to worry that this is too good to be true. It’s hard to reconcile that feeling with the intense joy I feel. Very strange indeed.
I know every woman has anxiety associated with pregnancy. Every pregnant woman has moments where she fears something will go wrong. But to couple that with the thought that technically, it shouldn’t even have happened in the first place, and it adds a whole new level.
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