Tuesday, June 27, 2006

1 in 5

I became a father out of exuberance. Our friends, Mark and Teri had just a baby girl and I could see that look in my love's eyes. So I made good on that look, sent the boys for a swim and made the girl honest. 9 months later Weston was born and it's been 5 years since. We always sort of felt, at least more recently, that the man-child needed some competition. Initially I shrank from the thought, of course the rest of me didn't. Nothing became of any of it, and for a while there thankfully as a mortgage and a small family was more than I could sustain without the help of creative financing, a bit of luck and eBay. Things gradually improved and I was back on my feet and ready to rule the roost again.

So with some trepidation we began thinking about the 'competition', well words lead to action and action to reaction and eventually... nothing happened. Hmmm worked before, what's up now? Well we're all a bit older maybe those swimmers have lost their stamina... maybe the targets aren't dropping into their position or have begun to run out. Step in medicine and the wonders of science. As it was the fault lay in the recieving end, high FSH levels were at fault apparently. We trudged on hoping for the best (I guess) until one day I was informed of the '2 stripes'...More hmmmm, so off to the lab for confirmation. And it's confirmed, so joy wonderous joy, ah but wait been there and had hopes dashed, so take 'er easy and wait and see.

7 weeks go by...

One gets one's hopes up by obvious signs of wonderment, I must say even I, Mr. Dubious had more than a twinge of joy. But life obscures life as much as life begets life, (at least in my case) so things get rearranged by the daily vicisitudes... Life is like that I guess, unless it's in your face you have the option to engage or disengage. So I was going to wait for the tipping point I guess.

That wasn't in the cards.

I get a call at work on my cell and see it's from Laurie. Intuition tells me something is wrong, as I knew she was at the doctor's this morning for a prenatal visit, and the poor reception and garbled voice give me more to run with. When I get to a place that I can get proper reception, my intuition is validated. During a normal office visit it was determined that viability was not ocurring, no fetal heartbeat. A second ultrasound with better gear is required and I need to get Weston from school.

The ultrasound tech did a good job handling the situation of parents not to be and sent us on our way up to the Doc who would be handling things from that point. The D Call (?) doctor is what we're told to ask for, I know immediately who this person is and I suspect Laurie does as well. We go up to the 4th floor to meet this person. Now on the way to this office we pass by: Decedant's Records, Birth Certificate office, Labor and Delivery and what the hell else that seemed oddly ironic/significant. I made no comment, no need to make the situation worse. Sure it's a hospital and this stuff might in them, but it had a ring of irony nonetheless, so we trudge on for the ultimate word. And we both know what that is to be. The doctor we saw has a tough job, I couldn't find fault in him or any of his staff and he gives us the low down and ghe options. Laurie opts to let nature take it's course, and I can see her feelings on this. The guy in me might say "go ahead, do what you need to do", but this is not my decision and I make no comment on this matter.

I had hoped to fill this space with some happier news today but the cards were not responding to my dictates and I need to post my thoughts of the day, which in contrast to yesterday's silliness runs the gamut I guess. Any Merlot left???

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