Heading to swim lessons, yesterday, I accidentally turned down the wrong road. My son noticed we were on the wrong road and quickly reminded me that we were going the wrong way. Thank you, 3 ½ year old backseat drive! He then asked what street we were on and I told him “J” Street. I reminded him that “J” street was the street that his daddy and I lived on the first year we were married. We’ve walked by that old house many times on afternoon walks, so he is familiar with what house it is. He asked when that was and I said 11 years ago. He doesn’t really have a sense of how long 11 years is but he did ask where he was at that time and I told him that he wasn’t born yet. The rest of the five minute car ride he proceeded to ask more questions and try to wrap his young head around how we were married for awhile but he wasn’t with us yet.

The house we rented the first year we were married.

This interaction quickly reminded me of a conversation I had many years ago, when I was in counseling getting the help I needed to cope during the years my Vulvodynia and Pudendal Neuralgia were at their height. I remember discussing the fact that we had been married for many years and hadn’t been able to entertain the idea of having a baby yet. At that time my body wouldn’t be able to handle carrying a baby let alone handle the physical and emotional pain of having intercourse.

Though we knew we wanted children someday, we weren’t certain what that would look like for us.
Would we make a turkey baster baby, like many many other women with Vulvodynia?
Would be have a surrogate?
Would we adopt?
Could we afford those options? As it was the majority of any extra money we had was going to medical bills, in an attempt to find a solution for all my pain. Not to mention the fact that I wasn’t even able to physically work full time for many years.

It was during that conversation she said something that has stuck with me for all these years. She said “Children always know if they were planned.” In addition to being a clinical psychologist she is also a professor at our local University. She told me there is a class she teaches where every semester she asks her students if they know whether they were planned or not and they all know the answer.

This isn’t saying if a child was unplanned, it’s a bad thing. It’s not. We always talk about how my own brother was the best mistake my parents ever had! Literally. Thank God that accident happened. There are gazillions of other unplanned blessings out there.

However, that day, sitting on the comfy couch i’d sat on for years, I felt a sense of comfort and not just from the comfy couch. I allowed myself to take comfort and pride in the fact that one day my first born would know how hard we worked to finally have him, 8 years into marriage.
Visiting specialists all over the state.
Painful treatments.
Injections.
Nerve Blocks.
Long pain inducing car rides to doctors 10 hours South.
Case Studies.
Road trips.
Dietary changes.
Pelvic Physical Therapy.
Acupuncture.
Homeopathy.
OBGYNs.
Painful Massages.
Marriage Counseling.
Sexual Therapy.
Individual Counseling.
Polypharmacology.
ER Visits where some doctors treated me like another junky looking for pain meds. While others naively googled what the heck Vulvodynia and Pudendal Neuralgia were.
EMDR.
Night Terrors.
Reducing Work Hours.
The list could go on for pages...

I always knew that conversation would come but wasn’t expecting the questioning to come so soon, at 3 ½ years old. So for the time being we’ll dance around the topic a bit. We'll communicate at an age appropriate level, until he can fully understand why our greatest blessing in life and marriage thus far, came after an 8 year wait to get him.

I'll also continue to share my experience in an effort to provide hope. Hope to other women and girls silently battling a similar battle that they too, one day, will have their greatest blessing and that blessing will know their birth was a long hard battle worth fighting for.

Old School Modern Mama,