You hear the stories all the time, even dating back to childhood rhymes such as "first comes love, second comes marriage, then comes baby in the baby carriage". If only it were that easy for everyone. The nursery rhyme that used to playfully taunt those on the playground has now been dreadfully ridiculing our adult reality.
My daughter, Rachell, and her husband, Connor, have been trying to have a baby since they married in May 2016. The hardship and adversity that they've experienced since that time has been overwhelmingly unjust.
The first time Rachell told her dad and I that she was pregnant, the pure bliss in her eyes - and the exhilaration for the dad-to-be - was absolutely heartwarming.
Those who have successfully carried a child know that the early stages of pregnancy can be grueling; after all, morning sickness doesn't just occur at dawn. Yet when Rachell spoke of her symptoms, she simply glowed. Her radiance and excitement was undeniable.
Unfortunately, our elation turned to fear and sorrow when we learned that the pregnancy was ectopic. The baby she was so excited to be carrying had implanted in her fallopian tube. I helplessly observed my daughter mourning the loss of her first child - powerless to heal her pain and save my grandchild.
In addition to grieving the loss of her baby, Rachell was subjected to a painful, and potentially risky, Methotrexate injection. The medication’s purpose was to dissolve the fetus from the fallopian tube; however, this medication did not perform as anticipated. As a result, Rachell’s fallopian tube ruptured. My daughter called her dad and I in tears; the physical and emotional agony radiated through the phone. She was bleeding internally and would require emergency surgery to completely remove the fallopian tube and stop the bleeding.
During this recovery period, my daughter – and Connor - exhibited a tremendous amount of strength, friendship faith and love. They vowed to try again, believing that the remaining fallopian tube was healthy. As time passed, they were able to conceive again. While slightly guarded, the joy and excitement mirrored that of the first time. Her dad and I remained optimistic, relishing in the idea of becoming grandparents.
However, to our heartbreaking dismay, these cruel events once more intruded on our happiness - like a cruel portrayal of déjà vu. My daughter endured the same grief, worry, and fright, perhaps even more so this time, because any hope of conceiving naturally was stripped away with that final cut.
So, as you can see, this is not a simple case of "just relax, and it will happen" – My daughter’s only chance of carrying a child of her own must now be done through in vitro fertilization ("IVF"). While medicine has made great strides in this regard, the health insurance industry continues to lag behind.
In the depths of my heart, I know Rachell and Connor will be the most amazing parents. They are best friends, were high-school sweethearts, and are now husband and wife. They are educated, hard-working, and two of the kindest people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Therefore, I ask, in humble regards, for your donation. Please help make my daughter’s dream of becoming a mother a realty. We would love nothing more than to see her with that baby in the baby carriage.
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