When we learn that our babies will be conceived in the doctor's office rather than the bedroom, we are disappointed. Our disappointment stems not only from the fact that we know we need medical intervention to conceive, but also from the loss of intimacy in the baby making process. Making a baby is supposed to happen in a moment of fun, passion, and love. Conception normally results from the most intimate act between a man and woman. Instead, we conceive with stirrups, catheters, and ultrasound machines. To the outside world, this method of conception appears cold, sterile, and definitely second-rate.
I had my first embryo transfer this past Sunday, and it was truly a moment of beauty. Before going into the procedure room, I was given pictures of my two embryos. I gazed at them and dreamed of the children they might become. Once I was situated on the table, my husband held my hand, and together we watched the screen as the liquid containing our two little embryos floated into my uterus. I cried, of course, and A teared up but managed to keep his composure. Then we received photos of our little ones' first few moments in their mommy. Whether we get pregnant or not, it was a moment I will always treasure. It was intimate, sweet, and potentially life-changing...everything making a baby should be.
I think that in comparing ART with "natural" conception, people often romanticize sex. But let's be honest, sex, especially sex when you're trying to conceive, is not necessarily pretty. It often includes ovulation predictor kits, making sure you use the right sexual positions, propping yourself on a pillow to avoid losing any little swimmers, or even injecting "sperm friendly" lubricant into yourself. None of these things should really be categorized as romantic. So for now, I am letting go of the sadness of having to conceive with assistance, and instead relishing in the extra moments I got with Bit and Bitty. I feel privileged to have been so intimately involved in the beginning of their precious lives.