Ten years ago my husband Dean and I decided that we would start our own family. I was just 26 and we figured it would take no time to accomplish that. We had agreed on one child before we got married, because he already had a son and a daughter from a previous marriage. I didn't have a problem with that at the time.
Well we finished out 1998 and all of 1999 with no results. I was growing discouraged and didn't understand what could possibly be the problem. My Mom was reading an article in Woman's Day and asked me to take it home after one of my visits and read it. It was about a medical condition that afflicts a lot of women but goes undiagnosed by most doctors. It was called Polycistic Ovarian Disease and the rate of conception with this condition is very low. Many of the symptoms I had. So in December of 1999 I decided to go see a doctor armed with this article.
After blood test and ultrasounds he sent me home to return in January for a follow up visit. The diagnosis was heart wrenching. I had PCOS. I sat in that office and cried like I had never cried before. I wanted a daughter so bad, and I was being denied! He allowed me time to cry and then told me that I have two options. I could just give up then, or I could try a treatment of Clomid. Without hesitation I said I was not giving up, that I wanted a child more than anyone could possibly imagine.
Well, my second full time job started that day. It consisted of visits to my OBGYN every 15 days for exams and ultrasounds. I continued on the treatment until May when a doctor who was in the office with my doctor told me that the treatments needed to stop. That my eggs were never going to mature, and then I should look for alternatives. I left the office in hysterics.
When my next visit came I asked to speak to my real doctor and told him what that doctor said. He told me that the treatments were in no way harming me and that it may take longer then normal. I told him I didn't know if I could keep doing this. My heart ached after each visit that told me no mature eggs.
Well, I gave it one more month. When I visited the office for my ultrasound I got the greatest news of my life. There were two “Very” mature eggs. I was given a shot and sent home to spend time with the hubby. A month later feeling no different, but not having my cycle I called the office and went in for a blood test. The results spoken to me over the phone the next day brought me tears of joy. I was pregnant!
After all that time and then 9 months of a wonderful pregnancy and an easy delivery, my precious daughter Alexandria was born. She was truly a miracle from God. She was perfect in every way, and was intelligent beyond belief for her age. At 18 months she started to regress and stopped talking and listening and interacting with people. At 2 years she was diagnosed with a learning disability and placed into a special preschool program. When she was diagnosed at age 3 with a hearing problem it was corrected and she began to gain back much of what she lost. But the damage was done. She was way behind.
At the age of 4 she was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome, and my heart once again ached. How could God do this to me. I tried for years for a child only to be given that miracle and then all of the set backs to follow. I became angry and began to withdraw from my daughter. Every time I saw her I was reminded of my failure. After months of watching her regain her speech and begin to mature mentally I realized that God does not give you more then you can handle. I began to rejoice in my daughters accomplishments, and bond with her again.
I treasure everyday that I have with my daughter, and I no longer look upon her as a failure. Without her I would not be who I am today or do what I love. I scrapbook to document Alexandria's accomplishments. They may be normal occurrences with other children, but each one is a miracle and an accomplishment in my eyes. I would never trade my precious daughter for any genius child.
Allie is my blessing, joy, and greatest gift.
