We were chasing our dreams, and my dream of being a mother was no longer a possibility. With every passing day, accepting that I could no longer possibly become pregnant became harder. I grew more depressed. Every time my wonderful little red friend would visit, it was a reminder of my failure. My infertility. I would sob and be depressed for the whole week. I would be angry taking it out on the only person that supported me, the love of my life.
After carrying on like this for three months, My significant other couldn’t take it anymore. So he did what he could do and made a proposal. His proposal was to try, and continue to try to have a child. If we did get pregnant he promised he would marry me. It gave me hope. I agreed. They crying stopped. At least we were trying. Weeks turned into months, months turned into a year. Trying no longer became fun. We both looked forward to getting it over with.
We went out one night. Had a few drinks to go with our dinner. We were both relaxed. We had awesome sex, for the first time in a long time. We thought nothing of it. We had stopped trying. Whatever would happen would happen.
It was always in the back of my head though. My pipe dream destroyed. On Mothers Day I went shopping with my Mom. I saw a Mother with a little baby. I lost it. I cried in the middle of the store. The tears kept flowing. They did not stop. If I couldn’t have a baby, I simply was not happy.
Then we were at a wedding. My partner in crime and I had a great time. It was his sister’s wedding. For the first time in a long time I had forgotten about my lost pipe dream. I was so caught up in everyone else’s happiness and it felt great! I started feeling a little sick to my stomach. I took one sip of beer and couldn’t touch it. The chicken, and I love chicken, smelled so gross. Then my significant others mother asked, “You think your pregnant?… No, no, I couldnt be!” I said almost immediately after she asked. I danced all night. We had a great time.
We went back to the hotel room. I was very tired. My hips hurt. I started thinking about what his Mother said. In my heart I was saying maybe, but my head was saying, “That’s not possible.”
A few weeks later we after we went out to eat, I was pretty sure I had gotten food poisoning. Projectile vomit for 45 minutes. It was coming out of my nose and it burned. It was so bad I couldn’t breathe when I was throwing up. My significant other was holding my hair back. It was so gross even he couldn’t handle it! I heard laughter from the other room. My husband was laughing at me and kept saying. “Oh God, hahahaha… oh God!” Little did he know I would be having the last laugh!
Written by V.C. Christian