A couple of weeks ago, Max and I made the trek back to our fertility clinic to show him off. I have stayed in touch with my favourite nurse, and had emailed him when Max was born with a picture and the details. I also sent a Christmas card with Max’s newborn Christmas photo in it, but it was time for a face-to-face meeting. The clinic also has a “wall of success” (actually several walls now) where they put all the babies’ footprints.
I have waited so long to have footprints on that wall. The way the clinic is set up, one has to walk past these footprint-decorated walls to get from the waiting area and blood rooms to the ultrasound and other treatment rooms. I walked through with longing on so many occasions. So many times, wondering if I would ever have my child’s feet on that wall.
It was so emotional. To walk through those doors with my little miracle. I know they see them all the time, but it was an inexplicable feeling. Tears were shed as that little foot went on the wall.
I got pictures of Max being held by my favourite nurse — he was instrumental in this journey — and pictures of him being held by Dr. M. I couldn’t tell you the name of the doctor who delivered my baby, and while I could tell you about my actual MFMs, nobody in the medical field was as important as the people at that fertility clinic. We wouldn’t have Max without them. I am eternally grateful for the day that my favourite nurse picked up the phone and told us we could come back — it was one of the darkest days of this infertility journey where I was absolutely sure I would lose my mind (and my will to keep going) and he saved me by doing what they do — helping people (all people without discrimination) have babies.
When Dr. M was holding Max he asked when we’d be back to make another. I told him we had one little frostie in the freezer and that I hoped he could work his magic again. I don’t know if we’ll be lucky enough to strike gold twice, but we’re sure going to try. There’s room for more feet on that wall…