Sweet 16 Year Old

If you've read any of my "Skate for the Children" posts, you know that my oldest baby was born 16 years ago today. Fair warning: If you don't want to read about infertility, etc. please feel welcome to hit your mute button and skip this post.

It was a year after getting married that we decided we were ready to start a family. We didn't think it would be a problem at all. I should have known I would have difficulty after seeing the ducks and geese in the park at Little Rock Air Force Base with their grossly deformed beaks and heads. If they had those horrible growths on them from their possible exposure to Agent Orange (manufactured nearby), then what was it doing to me? But I didn't connect that puzzle until I lived through the experience of infertility, then stumbled on an article in a women's magazine years later.

So our first year of trying to have a child was fruitless. Then we began going to doctors. My husband was tested and was fine. I was tested and seemed fine. But there was no pregnancy. We started taking (and I probably have this wrong) Clomid. We were warned that the medication could result in twins. For us, it resulted in menstruation month after month after month after month. Every time I started my cycle, I cried for two days. People tried to comfort me as best they could:

"You can always adopt."
"Maybe it's not meant to be."
"Are you sure you want children? They can be so difficult."

Hearing those well-intentioned words was just as heartbreaking to me as getting my period. Here's some advice for anyone who knows another person trying to get pregnant. Don't say anything except, "When you have your child, you know he or she will be extra special." Do not say IF. Do not mention adoption. Do not say it's not meant to me. Do not talk about all those baby girls in China. It's okay to be sad with her, but choose your words carefully. Just be encouraging and sympathetic.

So the Clomid did not work after nearly two years. We couldn't afford in-vitro. We couldn't afford artificial insemination. We did not want to use the next drug (I can't remember the name) because it definitely caused "multiple" pregnancies and the doc said they'd have to go in and randomly abort if there were more than three fetuses. I could not have that done, to take away a child when I had tried for so long to have one.

We picked up paperwork for adoption finally. And I had one more doctor appointment for one more medicine of some sort. Maybe it was another dose of Clomid. I don't know. But the doctor wouldn't prescribe it until I started my period. After several weeks of waiting for it to start (it was horribly out-of-sync and had been like that since I was a teen), I called Rosemary and said, "Can't Dr. Duncan just call in the prescription?" She said no, I had to come in for a blood test. I dragged my sad butt in and waited for her to call to tell me the prescription was being called in to my local Kroger pharmacy.

She called and said, "Kathy. The reason you haven't started your period is because you are pregnant."

I was so angry and confronted her, "That is just cruel, Rosemary. It is not funny at all." I was devastated by her words.

She said, "Kathy! You are pregnant!"

Her words finally sunk in and I was elated! I told my husband, then our parents. We were thrilled! I was certain I was pregnant with a boy, but we didn't know until she was born. I was a horrible, miserable pregnant person. I just bitched and complained the whole time. My feet were swollen, I threw up several times every day, and I waddled.

But after months of waiting, my water broke on October 10th. I called my husband, he came home and rushed me to the hospital. 22 hours. No epidural. Dry delivery. 9 pounds, 1 ounce and 21 inches long. We had our baby girl. She had a headful of black hair. She was beautiful! Her hospital baby picture had her making the "Live long and prosper" sign. She was definitely our baby!

We wanted a nice name and both of us really liked Hillary Anne. The state treasurer of Arkansas, Jimime Lou Fisher told me that the first lady of Arkansas was named Hillary. I laughed at her and said, "Whoopideedoo. No one will ever know that." Jimmie Lou just smiled at me. She knew. So my daughter bears the name Hillary, which is a beautiful name that is unfortunately considered yucky by about half this country. Here is my baby girl.

She is a fantastic photographer. She has a genius IQ - well over 140. She is a computer addict. She has a long-distance boyfriend who she's never met, but they talk on the phone and instant message each other regularly. Hillary is a great babysitter. She has wanted to be a rocket scientist, a teacher, a music critic for Rolling Stone magazine, and a writer. She and her sister fight regularly. She thinks her parents are annoying. She has a loud, abrupt laugh that I love to hear. She makes great grades. She is a very talented writer. She won the county spelling bee when she was in 7th grade, the first-ever winner from her school. She likes to drive the car down our driveway and the first time she did it, she couldn't stop laughing. She is learning to cook. She doesn't do her laundry until the very last minute, and then yells at everyone because she has nothing clean to wear. She hates vegetables. Really hates them. When she was a sick as a toddler, one of us would have to hold her down while the other one gave her medicine. She once stepped on a worm after a rain and screamed so loudly that all the neighbors came running out of their houses to rescue her. She used to love saying, "Bee-Boe" and rocked back and forth on her feet while saying it. She loves Green Day, The Used, My Chemical Romance. She has been a girl scout since kindergarten. She thinks she has a cute, bulbous nose (yes, your nose is cute!). When she was about three, we told her a knock knock joke that made her laugh so hard, she fell out of her chair.

That's my baby. You are 16 and the world is your oyster. Enjoy your youth. Take advantage of every opportunity and sometimes create your own. Sometimes take the path less traveled, the risk maybe well worth it. You will always be loved by someone in this world. Happy Birthday Hillary.