My Backstory

The baby dreams—as in actual, recurring dreams about babies—started when I was thirty.

So, in summer 2003, as I neared my thirty-fifth birthday, still single, I felt I needed to face the facts.  In twenty years of dating, I hadn’t found “The One,” so I couldn’t count on locating him before my aging eggs became my enemies, eliminating the possibility that I could have biological children.

I decided to take responsibility for the part of my life over which I could have some control:  While finding a mate could forever frustrate me, I could still fulfill my desire to be a mother through pregnancy or adoption.  I started trying to have a child via insemination with anonymous-donor sperm.  But I didn’t give up hope of eventually finding love.

While I had an instinct that I couldn’t postpone having kids, I naïvely believed that because I had so bravely forged ahead, I would immediately get pregnant.  Having to pay for sperm—which most women get for free—was enough of a burden, I thought.  However, try after try, I was no closer to being a mother.

After four unsuccessful donor inseminations, two using the ovulatory stimulant Clomid, I agreed to have my reproductive endocrinologist perform a Hysterosalpingogram, in which she released dye inside me that traveled into my uterus and fallopian tubes, revealing their shapes and any blockages:  It showed that I had an underdeveloped, T-shaped uterus, one-third normal size, resulting in almost-no-hope infertility.

My T-shaped uterus
My T-Shaped Uterus
Normal uterus.
Normal Uterus

Depression started to creep in:  Not only hadn’t I found a partner with whom to have a child, and not only wasn’t I getting pregnant using donor sperm, but I also was unlucky enough to be among the incredibly small minority of women who have uterine abnormalities.  Further, I apparently won the negative lottery of abnormal uteruses: Of the seven different types, my doctor said I had the only kind that couldn’t be surgically repaired..

I started researching adoption while I continued with inseminations, injecting myself with Lupron to stall ovulation and with Gonal-f® to make my too-small uterus “less rigid,” therefore more likely to stretch during pregnancy.  I wore estrogen patches, rotating them from stomach to thighs, and took oral progesterone in attempts to thicken my too-thin uterine lining.

I got pregnant during my fifth-try cycle, but suffered an early miscarriage that devastated me, although it was a mini-triumph that I had actually conceived.

I had no luck with my six attempt.  But, my seventh time around, I got pregnant successfully, with no miscarriage.  I had a high-risk pregnancy, complete with pre-term dilation and contractions, three hospitalizations and bed rest, but I gave birth to my nine pound, seven ounce son on his due date.  (Yes, my too-small uterus stretched out just fine.)

Photo: Mary Katherine Kennedy

Photo: Mary Katherine Kennedy

When I launched this website and blog in summer 2009, I was an almost forty-one-year-old woman with an arcuate uterus, slightly larger than T-shaped, thanks to my son stretching it out during my pregnancy.  My husband of three years and I, wanting to have another child–his fourth and my second–underwent our first IVF attempt, and it wasn’t successful.  My blog posts documented our second IVF procedure, which resulted in the implantation of our twin sons, and continued throughout our high-risk pregnancy, the loss of one of our twins, and the birth of our baby boy in April 2010.

Scott Day 2 5x7

Photo: Mary Katherine Kennedy