|
Turning 50 was a momentous[2] occasion for me. Other people celebrate by doing something out of the norm[3]. One friend made a pilgrimage[4] from Vancouver to Seattle to see his favourite high-school band, Rush. Another travelled to Italy with his partner to sip red wine and walk cobblestone streets.[5] Someone else bought his dream motorcycle to cruise the back roads of Alberta.[6] Not me. My wife and I decided to have a baby. Yup[7], a baby for my 50th. Actually, it was far from[8] sudden. Getting pregnant is supposed to be easy, but it wasn’t. The waiting room of an infertility[9] clinic is an anxious place to sit. I found myself wondering what the other couples’ struggles had been. At our appointment, a doctor told my wife that at her age, the chances were slim[10]. “You are 40,” he pointed out. I could see my wife’s frustration mounting[11]. Three times in 20 minutes, he gently reminded her how old she was. I thought that if he said that one more time, he was the one who would need a doctor. We proceeded to follow the recommended path and rejoiced at the news of the retrieval of 33 eggs, more than a 40-year-old should produce.[12] To our shock and surprise, the first implant[13] failed. “What? How hard can this be?” The second attempt also failed and our spirits sank. We were getting a lesson in just how difficult it is to get pregnant. Everywhere we went there were babies in strollers and carriers[14]. We felt like losers. We wondered, “What’s the matter with us?” We became aware of the pain many couples experience in waiting for and worrying about pregnancy. It crushes many a couple. | 
