Tuesday

If you were a fly on the wall of my house, you would see me being mother to Morgan and attending to the laundry. I'm perpetually in motion, trying to keep house.

But inside, I am very still.

On Tuesday Dan and I will meet with our fertility doctor. Ever since January 27, it's been a long year.

I was grateful for the move from our old house. It gave me a brief distraction, even an excuse to put my emotions on hold from our series of miscarriages. I didn't want those terrible verdicts from the doctor to echo in my head anymore.

I told myself we could work with the fertility doc after we moved.
And then I told myself we could work with her after Dan got his new job.
And then after we got insurance worked out.
Finally, after I could feel some of the hell slipping away, I found myself giving fluid samples to various doctors and novice nurses who claim that my blood will tell them what I achingly want to know: Why?

I don't need hope. I don't need patience. I don't even need a laugh. I just need answers.

I'm not alone in this sentiment. Roughly three decades ago, Mrs. Karen Dykstra had reached the decision that she may not be able to bring a pregnancy to term. She had had her own fertility and loss issues and was in the process of adopting when she became pregnant. Fearing that this pregnancy, too, may not see the light of day, she continued the process of adopting her (and our) beloved Jill, fresh from Korea.

Jill came to the family in October of 1974 and the family was filled with gladness and fullness. My mother-in-law continued to swell with the gentle growth of Dan as she held her beautiful new daughter. I often wondered if she tried to ignore her pregnancy so that she would not worry. She had to hide her pregnancy from the adoption agency or they may keep Jill from them. And she wanted Jill. Perhaps she had to hide the pregnancy from her own emotions in the event that it didn't come to fulfillment.

Dan came 29 days after Jill, two months prematurely.

My sister-in-law will modestly joke that Dan was the "crown prince", a nomination given him by his grandparents. The words sting a little, I'll be honest. Jill doesn't realize that her arrival filled her parents hearts greatly. Furthermore, it's very possible that Jill, the fresh new bundle of joy from Korea, was her mother's saving grace as Dan grew in the womb. And it's also very possible that Dan came early because the joy from his mother's heart spoke to him in utero and he just had to meet his fiesty new sister.

I'm unsure what our family story will be, what our next chapter of life will hold. I look into the eyes of my young daughter and hope that someday a little fetus will have the strength to meet her, be held by her and, in all likelihood, be bossed around by her.

For now my only request is this: Tuesday, please come quickly.