Through our diagnosis and all our hopeful pregnancies and subsequent losses, I’ve never seen Mr. T cry. He’s held me, his eyes full almost to over flowing, but while my sobs racked me, he’s held his back, holding me and telling me it will be ok.
Even last week, when we heard the heartbeat for the first time, Mr. T had just a glimmer of tears in his eyes.
On Thursday we went back for our final visit to our fertility clinic. On the way there, I thought back to September when we headed to our second ultrasound after IVF 1.0. That day I had said excitedly to Mr. T; “Well, this is our last trip to the clinic.” We were so happy. So optimistic. So sure that we would say goodbye to all our doctors and move on to baby land.
This time we sat in the waiting room as usual, Mr. T doing his best to distract me from my negative thoughts. On the exam table, I gripped Mr. T’s hand so hard he had to switch hands before Mr. Wandy even made an appearance.
As Mr. Wandy went in to investigate, I closed my eyes. After what seemed an inordinately long wait, I finally heard Dr. IVF say, “Looking good!” She turned the sound on, and the room was filled with an even faster and stronger heartbeat than the week before. “162 beats per minute,” she said. “7 weeks, 5 days. All measuring on track.” She checked her records. “Due date is December 30th. Congratulations you two!”
“December 30?! We are going to have a baby in December?”
Because of our many memorial dates scattered over the calendar like emotional land-mines, I had been adamant about not even thinking about when the due date would be. That we could have a baby in our arms this year just seemed impossible.
Our fertility team cleared the room, leaving Mr. T and I alone. The sheet still wrapped awkwardly around me, I clung to Mr. T saying with disbelief,
“We’re going to have a baby! In December!”
Mr. T held me closer, his body shaking, suddenly sobbing.
“T- are you ok?”
“For so long…I’ve just been… trying…. to be strong…. for you,” my husband said between sobs.
That he’d been holding this all inside all this time, through all our struggles, broke my heart and made me love him even more fiercely.
“You don’t have to be strong for me, my love. I’m here for you too,” I sobbed.
And so now it’s my job to keep that promise, and be strong for my husband. During the wait for our next ultrasound in three long weeks I may still be neurotic to all of you (sorry about that), but unless I have a real reason to worry, I’m going to be brave for my husband. When he asks how baby and I are, instead of my usual downer, “I hope we still have a baby,” I will smile and hug him. It’s his turn to enjoy this pregnancy- to stop carrying all the worry for the two of us. It’s his turn to finally believe that he will be a dad.