Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end..

41w1d

A little over 4 years ago, my husband and I decided to start a family. We approached, I think like most couples, with nervous excitement and anticipation. We had the name conversations, wondered who are future child would look like, figured out what the due date would be each month that we tried....

In our minds, it was a new beginning. We were ready to leave behind our carefree days and start the family both of us have always wanted. We had finally found each other, we were blissfully in love... it was time.

It sounds like such a cliche, but if I only knew then what I would learn about life, about my faith, about my marriage, and myself.

The months of anticipation and excitement soon turned into months filled with angst, and worry, and sheer frustration. R and I were never much for fighting, but when the stress of not getting pregnant month after month really hit, we were at each other's throats.

After much discussion, and us finally being on the same page, we sought the help of a fertility specialist, and found a renewed sense of hope and once again felt that nervous anticipation and excitement.

It sounds like such a cliche, but if I only knew then what I would learn about life, about my faith, about my marriage, and myself.

Over the course of the next 2 1/2 years, I swallowed countless pills. I saw the look of sheer terror and sadness on my husband's face as he stuck me with more needles than I can even count at this point. I 've seen such protective sadness on his face after countless failed procedures. I've seen almost child-like sheer joy on his face when I told him he was going to be a father- only to have that look turn to horror when two weeks later, in the middle of the night, they wheeled me away from him as I was rushed into emergency surgery for my ectopic. Two weeks later, I saw fear and defeat on his face as , after we lost the 2nd baby, they wheeled me away from him for my D&C.

I, myself, have questioned my God and my faith. I questioned my strength. In some ways I questioned my marriage as I would often wonder, if R married someone else, would he be a dad right now? I've looked in the mirror at my own face and wondered who is this person who looks so tired and worn out and sad? What happened? How did something so joyous, like starting a family, turn into such heartache? Did I even ever know it was possible to cry so many tears?

So, here I sit, over 4 years later... and in a few short hours , I will leave for the hospital, but this time for a different reason. I am going to meet my son. These past 4 years have taught me so very much. I really know what true love is. R and I have such a bond, such a special type of closeness, that only such tragedy can forge. I suspect that later on today, I am going to learn a new, very special type of love.

I know the days, and the months, and the years ahead will present their own type of new challenges. But I now know how strong we both are-individually and as a unit. And I know for sure, I have a deeper faith than I thought possible.

I am scared as I sit and write this. I pray that all goes well and we have a healthy baby. I pray that I make it through delivery okay. I feel a tinge of sadness to know that the secret language of kicks and pokes will be no more. But mostly, I feel amazed that today, there is an end and a beginning. Hopefully an end to the years of waiting and sadness and a new beginning as we start our life as a family of three.

I am not sure of the name of the emotion I will see on R's face today as the doctor hands us our son, but I can tell you that I can't wait to see it. Because in that moment, I will know that every needle stick, every tear, every doubt, every crushing blow, every fear, every doctor visit, every moment of longing.... it will all have been worth it as today, two things I have wanted so very badly will happen: I will make my beautiful, sweet husband a father, and I will be a mom.