We were warned: You likely won’t have any other children

We were warned: You likely won’t have any other children.

We were advised: Freeze his sperm in case you want more children.

We were optimistic: There is adoption & foster care. We have one amazing daughter already. God knows the future.

That was February 2016, sitting in the office of my husband’s oncologist. Matt had been prescribed to start intense daily pill dosage of Temodar. Large white chemotherapy pills would be delivered to our house. He’d swallow them every day for 6 weeks while receiving daily radiation treatments to his head. The area the chemo & the radiation were to target was the front right lobe of Matt’s brain where the tumor had been removed. BRAIN TUMOR. Then the chemo pills would continue for 5 days out of every month for a year.

Chemo pills know no boundaries. They would affect all parts of his body. They could permanently damage his ability to reproduce. We might never have another child of our own making.

2016 passes – We were in a haze of treatments and survival

2017 passes – Halfway through the year there were signs of moving beyond the survival state when chemo was completed in June. In the fall there was tentative talk of trying for a child. We are unsure but there is time to discuss because it’s not advised to even try until it’s six months past the last chemo dosage, December 2018.

January 8, 2018 – We’re sitting in the office of my husband’s oncologist discussing the results of the latest MRI scans of Matt’s brain. No signs of regrowth, hallelujah! We bring up wanting genetic testing and sperm count testing done before we even start to try for another child or hope to try for another child. Referrals are given.

January 15, 2018 – I am exhausted. I am smelling everything. I am a week late starting my period.

January 16, 2018 – I take a pregnancy test and burst into tears. The test is positive.

January 17, 2018 – I take another test before announcing to Matt. The test is still positive. Matt arrives home from work. Our daughter is put to bed. I take the test out of its hiding place and show it to him. We cry. We’re in shock.

The shock is so deep that it takes me 3 weeks to make an appointment with a new midwife. I tell them of my medical history, of Matt’s medical history, and request an early ultrasound to confirm that the pregnancy is viable. No hesitation, it’s agreed & scheduled for a few days later.

February 9, 2018 – At the imaging office we meet with the same ultrasound tech that did our scans for my pregnancy with our first. It’s fun to catch up after 3 years but we quickly get to the reason we’re there. A heart beat is found! The baby is measured. The limb nubs are noted. It’s confirmed I’m 8 weeks pregnant with a seemingly healthy baby. Due to deliver September 2018. More crying. We’re still shocked.

February – March – April: We’re aware that the baby is growing but our joy is tempered with the impact this has on our household. The reality of a baby is far more jarring than the timid talks of “maybe”, “well see”, “later this year we’ll try”.

May 1, 2018 – At exactly 20 weeks pregnant we go to another ultrasound to check the baby’s growth. We’re eager to find out if it’s a boy or girl. Everything is measured on the baby, the heart beat is checked again. Everything else about me is measured & checked. All is declared healthy & baby is growing as it should! No defects currently found. This is a relief. The chance of the chemo negatively affected Matt’s DNA, and in turn affecting the baby’s development, did not happened. Despite having been right at the end of the advised six months of getting pregnant.

We have a healthy baby GIRL.

We have a surprise baby.

We have a miracle baby.

May 31, 2018 – We have joy at welcoming her in September.