Light

Five years ago I found myself in a strange place. The light in my soul was dim as the years of infertility had been long and dark. I was teaching seminary and working. And every passing day just meant another day I was not pregnant. Another day I was getting older and another day to take shots, drugs or do whatever thing to my body the latest fertility doctor had prescribed.

Seminary kept me sane, or at least focused. We were studying the Book of Mormon that year and the teenagers while crazy with their falling asleep and strange requests for me to let them sleep, helped me to keep the spirit with me as much as possible.

This was the same year that President Hinckley asked us as a church to read the Book of Mormon. I obeyed. And dangit I selfishly wanted blessings...a particular blessing...a baby. So as I closed the BOM on December 31st, 2005, I expected a miracle. I think I almost demanded one.

About 7 weeks later, I was at seminary in my jean skirt and sweater doing my thang...when a quiet voice said "go home and take a pregnancy test." I had taken one about 3 days prior, and for anyone who has suffered from infertility, you know if you even have a sore throat you get your hopes up and take a pregnancy test. I got in the car and headed home pushing aside my whispering since I had a negative and I didn't think it could have changed in 3 days. When I got home "take a pregnancy test"...whispered in my soul one more time. I knew the minute I took the test that a + sign would be there. I was finally pregnant.

I immediately started all kinds of drugs, shots to keep the pregnancy. We were in full alert as we had lost babies before...and by darn I would take anything to keep this one progressing. If they had told me to eat 20 bananas to keep the baby, I'd have done it! We were like firefighters at any pain, weird spasm and of course any spotting that started. Ready for action and to squelch any sign of possible exit the embryo might have with drugs.

On Sunday night about 9 weeks in, things were not looking good. Too much spotting, too much pain. I called my OB and told him the details of what was going on. He said to come in early Monday morning, but that I had miscarried. I think Andy and I quietly retreated to separate corners that night to figure out what to do with our feelings. An overwhelming feeling of despair took us over.

We sat waiting for our names to be called at the office early the next morning. "I'm so sorry" was heard from nurses and Doctor alike. He did feel the need to do an ultrasound just to make sure and see if anything was left to do a D&C.

Andy stood behind my head, sad and crying. As the doctor moved the wand around, there was nothing.

And then a whisper..."the baby is still there" took over my mind like a warm assurance of peace. I didn't speak. Still nothing was showing on the ultrasound. Then...the nurse said "wait...what is that?"

That was the tiniest and brightest light I'll ever see.