There's Always Time Series

I decided to tell this story because it was a pivotal loss we had between losing the twins and the birth of our oldest son, Nico. It was a trying time for her and I. That stretch of time tested everything our relationship was about and everything it was going to be. We were desperate to heal ourselves and try to replace the loss we suffered on that terrible October morning in 2006 when we suffered a double loss of twins the morning we were scheduled to give birth. Mimie was very strong but strength can only last so long.

There's Always Time

Chapter I

"I struggled with documenting what Mimie wrote in her private journal between privacy and the need to know, but I felt deep down that people should know her struggles, espeically women. Women should know that they aren't alone with their difficulties trying to concieve and that a lot of women, and couples, go through this. I can write from memory, but Mimie would want people to know what happens from a woman's heart. "

Not many friends or extended family are aware that Mimie and I had a miscarriage in between the pregnancies of the twin girls and Nico. We kept it private because we felt a curse had been cast upon us.

We gave ourselves less than a year to recover from the loss and burial of Gabriella and Sophia. I don’t know why we tried to get pregnant so soon after their loss. Maybe it was because we wanted to fill the void in our hearts that we couldn’t heal no matter what kind of counseling we went to.

Day in and day out we walked among the living like zombies. No matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t fill our souls with life. It was better to feel dead inside then appreciate another day that we were given on this earth.

Everything we did reminded us of the children that we lost. We drove a mini-van, that we got when we traded in our small SUV, that was empty like our hearts. The second bedroom was set-up as the girls nursery that sat behind a locked door, unoccupied. White sheets adorned the double cribs that sat on either side of the room. They were filled to the top with all the girls baby clothes that we received during our baby shower. Disney pictures from our favorite movies were beautifully framed and hung on the walls, but there was no one to see them. No laughter to be heard. No babies cries or giggles, no lullabies and certainly, no pitter patter of little feet. We were in hell.

Everything made us unhappy.

After her body healed from her c-section, we thought we could reverse the heaviness of losing our daughters by having another child to expedite our recovery. She got the okay from her doctor to try again. Our love making seemed more like a vocation to redemption more so then procreation. But our love for one and other never waned and our purpose was the personification of love making.

Months of trying eventually led up to the two words we wanted to hear.

“I’m pregnant”, Mimie said. Her face beaming with a large smile on her face.

“What?” I asked. I stared at her. I was scared, nervous and happy all at once. She caught me off guard because I had just got home from working a long twelve hour shift. I mean I was still in my police uniform.

“Baby, I missed my period. I didn’t want to tell you but its been over a week now. I can feel it within me. I am pregnant . But I need a pregnancy test to be sure!”, she said with so much enthusiasm. The most she has shown since the loss of the twins.

Mimie didn’t have to tell me a third time. I left immediately still dressed in my police "blue" uniform.

Walking briskly, I got into my police car and went to the local pharmacy to pick out a pregnancy test. I arrived to Walgreens, a local pharmacy and convenience store.

I could barely contain my walk as I entered through the doors of the store. If I ran, curious on lookers would have been frighten with the sight of a police officer running full speed into the business. I asked the clerk where I could find the pregnancy tests. She politely told me, "by the condoms, isle twelve."

With all the patrons staring at me, I think she did that on purpose, I hurriedly make my way to isle twelve.

If you haven’t searched for a pregnancy test lately, if at all, I can tell you it is a very daunting task. The variety is more extensive then the selection of condoms that are strategically placed right next to them just as the young clerk had told me.

“Which one do I choose”, I say looking at the boxes that are neatly stocked on the shelf.

“First Response: Rapid Results”, fast response? Don’t you just pee on it.
“Clear Blue Easy”, aren’t they all easy.
“Fact Plus . When you want the facts.”
“Fast and Easy”, generic sounds good to me. 

So many to choose from. Where the hell is the convenience in this? I select the Fast and Easy tester. I wondered if they meant the brand or the user.

I get in line to purchase the baby tester. "You found them", the cashier says with a smile on her face. "Yup isle twelve, right where you said they'd be." I pay for my purchase and without delay get in my police car and drive away.

I drove straight home. I was so tempted to drive back to the house with my lights and sirens on. I was so excited of the idea of being a dad.

I turn the car down my block and approach my house, “Okay Chris” I think to myself as I breath in deep expanding my chest out. I exhale, “She could just be late and not pregnant. Pace yourself .” I prepare myself for the worst.

I pulled my police car in its usual spot in the swale, close to the street. I could barely back off from my enthusiasm.

I exit my police car and slowly walked towards the front door. My excitement turning into fear. I wanted to enjoy the moment just in case the moment would end when I walked through that door.

My foot leaves the grassy area of the swale and touches the concrete sidewalk. I take small steps at first as I begin my journey up the center walkway that runs through my front yard that leads to the mailbox out by the street. My steps extend to medium sized ones then larger ones, until I can barely contain myself and found myself walking in a fast pace. Almost a sprint to the front door.

I extend my arm towards the outside door handle. I didn’t want to break my stride but I realize my right hand is empty. I stop in my tracks. I raise my left arm looking at my left hand and see that its empty too. I stand on my front porch staring at the door.

“Shit, I forgot the pregnancy test in the car.”

After returning to the car and retrieving the pregnancy "stick", I returned to the house and calmly walked in the front door, I seek out Mimie immediately.

“Mimie, I’m home”, I announce out loud as I stand in the living room. This time with the prized pregnancy test in my hand.

“I’m in the bathroom waiting” She said in a muffled tone.

Our master bedroom is towards the back of the house and if you don’t speak loud enough your voice won’t be amplified to travel through our bedroom, down the long stretching hallway and into the living room area.

I hurriedly walk towards her low voice which I can hear calling me from our bedroom. I head down the long hallway and open the plastic bag and begin removing the box containing the answer to what we’ve been longing for, a pregnancy. After I pull it out of the white Walgreens shopping bag I release the bag from my grasp. The plastic parachute falls towards the ground like leaves from a tree. My momentum too fast for the slow moving object and my waist collides with it.

The plastic container clings to the front of my pants at the crotch level, before air pushes it down between my legs and forces it into the opposite direction that I‘m traveling in. I leave the plastic bag in my dust as it floats aimlessly behind me into the rest of the house.

I reach the bedroom and rush in through the partially closed door. I quickly make a right turn, making a beeline right to the bathroom.

I tear the top tab off the box that contains not one but two pregnancy tests. Once the top is off I disregarded it to the ground. My knee hit’s the little cardboard flap and it disappears somewhere under the bed. I pull one of the two testers’ out of the box. Tossing the box with the extra tester in it, on top of the bed. Our queen pillow top mattress softening the bounce and it lands on the cozy comforter. I remove the tester from the sterile packaging as I reach the bathroom door.

“Your already on the toilet”, I ask Mimie, surprised.

She was sitting on the throne. Her pajama bottoms down around her ankles. She had her elbows on her knees. Her forearms were extended up. Her hands were balled up like fists and they were tucked under her chin.

“Yes”, Mimie said in a very mellow tone. She is staring down at the small beige 2” x 2” tile squares that cover the entire square footage of the floor.

“Babe, what’s wrong”, her melancholy concerning me.

She raises her head up slightly. She uses only her eyes to gaze up at me.

“What If I’m not pregnant you know. Maybe just maybe our only chance to have kids was lost with the twins.”

I could feel her concern rattle my insides. Her words cutting through me like a knife. But I understood her fear. I am living it with her.

I immediately bend over and place my right arm around the back of her shoulders. I pull her torso into me as her face tucks in under my neck.

“It doesn’t matter what happens with this test. There’s always time. Just breath.” I lean back and looked into her eyes all the while my arms never let go of our embrace.

I reach out with my left hand, sliding it in between out bodies and offer her the stick, “I think you just have to pee on it.” I said with a grin. I managed to get a smile out of her.

Chapter 2 Getting Results

The pregnancy tester is white and about six inches long. In order to use it, the participant removes the capped end reveling the tip that you pee on. There is a small window that has a square embedded into it. Once you pee on it the hormones in the urine will revel one line or two lines. Get two lines and you just hit the baby jackpot. One line, its try, try again.

I give her some privacy after I hand her the stick and walk over to my side of the bed. I finally start to remove my police uniform after my long day.

Mimie walks out of the bathroom leaving the tester on the ledge of the bathroom counter fresh from just being used.

“How long does it take”, I asked as my feet got tangled in my pant leg in my anxiety of anticipating the results.

“A minute or two I would think”, Mimie replied staring at me as I stumble forward bracing myself on the bed. My right arm catching myself, breaking my fall. I use my left hand to try and get my last leg out.

After getting my pants off I brace my self with my left arm joining the right for extra support as they are placed firmly on the bed.

My head hangs in between my shoulders like a pendulum and I'm breathing hard after trying to remove my pants. I raise my head and look up at Mimie. My body bouncing with my breaths.

I nervously laugh and say, “Lets check!”

Mimie walks in the bathroom and I follow behind her. She stops and stares at the tester.

“I can’t look”, she says

The pregnancy test is balancing on the ledge. Mimie was about two feet from it, but I could sense her apprehensiveness in regards to even being in the bathroom with it. She reached out and grabbed it and passed it over her shoulder without even a gaze. I didn’t mind looking at it, I tried to ease the tension.

“You did hand me the non pee end right?” I said cringing my nose. She’s not amused. I was staring at the back of her head, but her reflection in the mirror captured her face.

I examine the stick,“ I can’t make this thing out.” I said out loud. I look closer at it, holding the plastic object about an inch from my nose as my eyes burning a hole through it.

“What do you mean you can’t make it out. If there is two lines I’m pregnant.” She says, turning around to stare at me.

I continue to fixate my eyes on the lines trying to determine if the faded second line is positive for pregnancy or not.

“Look at it Mimie. It’s faint, I cant read it.” I hand her the tester shaking my head.

Mimie examines it with as much intensity as I did. Her face said it all.

“Shit, I can’t read it either.” Mimie exclaimed.

I walk over to the bed and grab the instructions out of the box. As I fumble with trying to unfold it, I drop it to the bed and reach out to take the pregnancy tester out of Mimie’s hand.

Once I unfold the “instructions inside” , that is more tightly wound then Mimie and I. I hold it up in the air with my left hand. I then grab the tester and place her pee stick by the manuals side. I don’t know what I was trying to get out of it by comparing the two, maybe I thought the bedroom light would shed more light on our dilemma.

But comparing it this way wasn’t working.

“Just pee on the second stick I guess.” I was getting so frustrated.

I fish the other tester from the box, remove the package for her and hand Mimie the other pregnancy stick.

“Your suppose to wait until the next day before you try again”, Mimie said.

“I know, but the anticipation sucks”, I said staring at her, holding the clean pregnancy test in my hand. She grabs it from without hesitation and we go another round.

Another faded line.

We both know deep down that she is pregnant. She is in tune with her body and she “just knows.” But we would like to know for sure. She could hardly contain herself and I knew she wouldn’t rest easy unless we knew for sure. Besides, who knew when we could get a doctors appointment.

“Fuck it I’m going back to Walgreens.” We both are just too anxious.

“They have a digital tester that either says, ‘Pregnant or Not Pregnant.’ It’s a pregnant stick for dummies.”

Mimie agrees with me.

I get dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. I search for my sandals and I head out the front door.

I get into my personal car and drive back to the store. I don’t like to drive my patrol car off duty much, it’s just a moving billboard when your off duty.

Thoughts about what we went through back in 2006 and what we are going through now rush through my mind, “Are we putting too much pressure on ourselves with trying to get pregnant? Maybe we just need to heal first.”

This pregnancy game is exhausting. I thought baby making was easy. I mean this isn’t turning out to be the birds and the bees talk my parents gave me when I was a kid. Its more like the Beaver and the dammed.

I walk into Walgreens to search for the digital pregnancy test.

I nod at the cashier as I walk through the automatic double doors. There was about nine people in her line, but my appearance before her seems like déjà vu and she does a double take. After all, I was just there fifteen minutes ago. I give a friendly wave to her and she’s oblivious to my suavity.

I work my way around the people in line and head directly to the isle twelve where the pregnancy tests, condoms and other sexual needs are.

My enthusiasm changed to frustration as I weed through the plethora of items on the well stocked shelves.
We both have to be tired of this pregnancy run around. It just doesn’t feel normal. I mean the natural thing is to get married and have a baby, right? Simple enough. But it seems every time we turn around there’s a brick wall trying to delay the process. Is this a sign?

I find the digital pregnancy tester and grab it off the hook that was prominently displaying it right under my nose. I read the box.

“Easy to use, easy to read, pregnant results in as early as 1 minute. Use any time of day.”


I hurriedly walk back to the girl at the cash register, She got her line down to two customers since they opened another register. I finally get my turn to be served and she doesn’t give me a second look this time. She’s too busy complaining to the other clerk about how shitty her job is.

The clerk is a young girl in her late teens early twenties. This job is clearly a pit stop for her until she reaches her dreams of cosmetology school. She doesn’t care that I am standing before her. I just wish she’d hurry up and ring up my would be purchase. I have bigger things to deal with.

“$8.57”, she says.

I swipe my credit card in the little grey box that’s affixed to the counter. I know from my past visit that anything under twenty dollars does not require you to sign the sales receipt. I see the word “APPROVED” scroll across the screen, I grab the box and walk out the door, this time I don’t give her the second look.

Driving is therapeutic and it soothes my anxiety. I’ll learn to appreciate that as the years go by. For now, it doesn’t help me on this short drive home from Walgreens with a eight dollar and fifty cent non organic object holding our fate in its non existent hands.

You don’t expect things to be so hard in life. As a human being you pride yourself on doing the right things. Mimie and I were no different.

We are just everyday people, living our lives the best we can by doing the right things that make all of us human. When you go through something as traumatic as losing such a precious gift like the girls, you feel like the dammed. We just wanted things to go right for us so bad that it seemed to do the opposite and will the bad into our lives. Although people go through this everyday, when its happening to you, you feel like the only people on earth being challenged.

When I got home the third time with our second pregnancy test, I was just spent.

My twelve hour day had just quickly moved to fourteen hours, if you count the time when I had to get up and start my day.

I was hot and sweaty from being on the go since I got home. Poor Mimie sat in the bed not worried if she could or couldn’t get pregnant. The bigger picture with her was “What is wrong with me.”

There was never anything wrong with Mimie’s internal abilities to make a baby. But when you try and fail in spectacular fashion in the loss of the twins with no answer as to why. You start to look at yourself.

Its easy to tell Mimie that it isn’t her fault. But I can’t convince someone that they aren’t defective if they already perceive themselves that way.

She didn’t think she wanted kids growing up. Most people don‘t. That theory was compounding her speculation that she wasn’t meant to have any. She said to me later in life after the boys were born that even her sisters thought she “wasn’t the motherly type.”

Yet here she is surprising everybody with the will to bear children. Although, it didn’t surprise me. Mimie was a wonderful, warm, and caring person to her children. She loved them above all else.

I on the other hand always knew I wanted kids, since I myself a kid. Mimie was so shocked at that. She would later tell me that I “was a weird kid for wanting kids” with a smile of course.

I can’t tell you why I wanted kids so bad, I’m not a psychologist. Maybe it’s because my parents were divorced when I was two.

I do not think she wanted to be pregnant for me. I know deep down she wanted kids for herself. She thought that it was only natural since our relationship was strong and we both had a lot of love to share. Making babies was suppose to be fun. But it seems only fun when you get pregnant on accident because the thought of getting pregnant when you didn’t want them seemed absurd.

This process didn’t seem hard when you took Health in school. It was suppose to be a natural process of life. After all your parents have kids, namely you, how hard could it be?

I remember as a child finding out how babies were made.

Chapter III Be Positive

Boys will be boys and the subject of sex came up. I was about ten years old when my cousin asked me if I knew where babies came from. I really wasn’t sure, so I lied.

Our cousins were visiting from Baltimore. Extended family of my dads mother Margaret. Even as a kid I remember their parents being pompous assholes.
The modest house we had wasn‘t good enough. Our family car not fancy enough. None of it seemed to matter to them. They would later pull their kids out of our bedroom one night when they slept over because my brothers and I were talking to them distracting them from their sleep.
Prior to that happening I was told news that would keep me up all night for much of my pubescent years.

“Well yeah, babies come from our mommies.” In an innocent ten year old tone.

“Yeah, but do you know how they come from our mommies?” My instigating cousin said with a hiss to his voice. “No, not really.” I said.

He would go on in heavy detail about the birds and the bees. Only in his version his birds and bees came with vaginas and penises. I would worry all night for years about having sex in order to make babies. I remember thinking, “maybe my wife will just come home pregnant one day.”

I tried to convince Mimie that the problem isn’t our inability to have kids. My father made four babies with my mom in six years. They married right out of high school.. My mom was eighteen years old. And my dad, twenty one. Their marriage would last all of seven years until breaking up the family I never knew I had being so young.

This must be the need the feeds my yearning for a family. I never made any secrets about my desire to have kids and Mimie never questioned it.

Mimie’s parents met overseas where one of her sister’s was born. When her father returned home with his new family they went on to have three more kids, all girls, four total. Her parents would remain together for over thirty years. Again procreation isn’t the issue. At least not biologically.

I arrive home from Walgreens after my second trip.

I park in the drive way, but my walk is not as fluid as it was when I got home earlier in the evening. The energy has been sucked right out of me, us. Where as earlier there was a spring to my step, this time I walked with a heavy gate. I didn’t feel light on my feet at all. I had rubber sandals on yet they could have been led weights tied to my ankles. I sulked as I walked. I had the digital tester gripped tightly in my hand.

I open the front door to the house that seemed like horrors. We were putting way to much pressure on ourselves. I didn’t bother to shout Mimie’s name, I knew where I would find her this time. I walk through the living room accidentally kicking the plastic Walgreens bag that I previously discarded in my rush to get Mimie the tester. It was resting at the foot of the hallway. The plastic handles got hung up on my sandals and the bag followed me down the hallway, where I had once left it for dead in my earlier climatic trot.

When I entered the room Mimie was laying in bed. She was under the covers with a book in her hand. The other pregnancy box laid on the bed beside her looking like a casualty of a hit and run. The box was torn and its wrappers were strewn about the bed. Like its insides had been ripped out.

“Okay got it” I said looking at Mimie as she hid behind her book.

She tilted the book down and made eye contact with me, “the digital one?” she asked.

“Yes, it looks so simple” trying to make light out of our situation.

Mimie drags herself out of the bed. I extend my right hand out and give her the entire box as she walks into the bathroom. I felt so tired. This time I would lay in bed and wait until the final results were ready. From where I am laying I could listen to the play by play of Mimie starting the process of the test. We’ve been here more then a few times.

1. I can tell the cardboard top is heavily glued on since the digital pregnancy test is pretty expensive. I can hear Mimie’s struggle with the top of the box as she attempts to dig her nails into the little overlapping edge. She was unsuccessful several times before one of her nails digs in deep enough to push the finger inside the container.

2. My acute hearing is aware that she was able to pull back the flap and rip the top open like a can.

3. My ears pick the up the sound of her digging inside the box and finally obtaining her prize as if the box was a Cracker Jacks snack. I can hear the tearing of the plastic bag containing the tester. The metal clanking sound is the sound of her pressing the trash can foot pedal and discarding the refuse inside the base of it. “Clank.” The lid just closed.

4. I recognize the banging sound of the toilet seat lid smacking against the porcelain tank.

With the flush of the toilet I know she’s done. I get up out of bed and walk to the bathroom. She’s standing in the door way with her back to me reading the box. I peek over her right shoulder and whisper “Boo” in her ear.

She doesn’t flinch, “I heard you coming a mile away.” she says, a smile breaks out on her face.

“What’s the thing doing” as I look at the tester resting on the counter.

Mimie picks it up and exams it. She brings it to her eye level which is high enough for me to see at her height of 5 foot 4 inches, I can easily see the display.

The pregnancy tester is the same size as a normal tester only this has a grey screen installed half way in the middle. While we wait for the results of her urine analysis a little icon is being displayed on the screen. It looks like a sundial. The black circular icon stands out in the grey background. Little digital hash marks appear to be spinning in a circular motion at a rapid pace.

“So what did the instructions say, when will we know.” I ask Mimie as we both stare at the spinning icon.

“I’m not sure. The main box says one minute. It will just tell us if we are pregnant I suppose.” Mimie’s eyes are fixated on the screen.

As we both stare down at it, without out warning our hesitation the word “PREGNANT” appears.

It was like magic out of thin air. Mimie and I froze for a second. As if we were in shock. After a split second of the word soaking in we realized it was true. She was pregnant. We both jumped for joy.

Mimie turned her body around to face me. We embraced each other and I gave her a kiss. We were so happy. There was success and for a brief moment the thought of our girls was placed on the side of our misery. Nothing was going to ruin this moment, this second in time. Not now, no way, no how. No matter what would happen form this point, we were truly in a state of bliss.

We were laying in bed basking in the glow of the realization that she was pregnant. We thought we’d do our best not tell anyone because of the ordeal we went though just recently.

Playing it safe was the best option. That night, I know Mimie was truly happy. A feeling of relief that things may be okay, that she was fertile enough to have a baby. She had hoped her nightmare was ending.

I never doubted the fact she could have kids. I felt we were just experiencing bad luck. Although I was hurting down deep for her, I always tried my best to make the best of things.

“Mimie” I said, “Enjoy the moment. It doesn’t matter what happens. Just bask in it tonight.”

That night was the last night of peace we would have in quite a while.

Chapter IV Mimie Speaks

I struggled with documenting what Mimie wrote in her private journal between privacy and the need to know, but I felt deep down that people should know her struggles, espeically women. Women should know that they aren't alone with their difficulties trying to concieve and that a lot of women, and couples, go through this. I can write from memory, but Mimie would want people to know what happens from a woman's heart.

Through the rest of this series, I will document Mimie's thoughts, with care, love and understandning....

That morning it was business as usual for me. Up at six, feed dogs, get dressed and go to work. Like clockwork. Today was different though, because of the joy I felt knowing that Mimie was sleeping in bed with baby. I could only hope she was having good dreams with thoughts of her unborn child bringing her joy, peace and love.

Later in my work day I would receive a phone call from her.

“Hey” she said on the other end of the phone. The tone in her voice with an inflection I haven’t heard in a long time. “Do you have next Tuesday off?”

“Yes” I told her.

“Okay, I am making a doctors appointment for an ultra sound and I figured you’d want to go.” She was so happy.

“Definitely, I do.”

“ I thought so, its booked for 9:30 in the morning.” She said. God, Mimie was thrilled.

It was a long week. You never realize how long a week could be dragged out. Too bad vacations weren’t like this. Unfortunately, we weren’t on vacation and the coming weeks were going to be just as long. The coming weeks were going to be a constant struggle for our emotions to keep an open mind.

We didn’t know it yet, but we should have expected it.

Up to this point in our quest to have kids nothing had been easy. To make matters worse we both knew deep down we hadn’t healed our emotions completely after we buried our girls. It felt good to have something else to focus on, however when you haven’t made peace with your past, your past is still looming setting yourself up to make your future failures seem even worse.

What you don’t expect is that something else would happen when you felt you paid your dues. Another problem to stack on our totem pole of issues. You assume when you pay an ultimate price like death, karma would pay you back with good.

The day of her ultra sound arrived. And to be honest with you, we never thought there would be any problems in the beginning stage. We just didn’t. Once the seed was planted there is nothing to worry about, right?

“Okay Mimie, just lie still”, the ultra sound technician said. Mimie was laying on her back.

The room was lit with low lighting, giving it a tranquil atmosphere. The ultra sound technician was to Mimie’s right. I was sitting on a low stool to her left. I tried to in vein to see the screen but couldn’t from my vantage point. The first time we went into a sonogram I went in to the room ignorant. This time, I was well educated on how they worked. I vowed I would never be left in the dark again when we lost the babies.

I was nervous and would fidget in my stool. I’d swivel the stool in 90 degree rotation left then right, left then right. Mimie was staring at me and we would have small talk. She was so happy. The technician was staring at the monitor. She had a smile on her face and she would join in on our small talk. I’m not a poker player, but I have learned to watch the face of everyone who is taking care of us in the past.

They give themselves away every time and our technician was about to show me her hand.

I watched the technicians smile slowly disappear. She was just nodding her head as we spoke about our future hope and our recent loss. Every other time, we had a past ultra sound with our twins, the technicians would be fully involved with us. Even turning the screen into our view so we could see the development of our fetus. Her communication fell silent and she never turned the screen.

After she completed her sonogram, she collected the pictures, she took with the machine. She smiled and told Mimie to get dressed, she’d be back.

“I have to go up stairs”, she told us.

“Oh shit, Mimie this ain’t good” I tell her with a grim face.

“What do you mean not good.” her face went stone.

“I was watching her.” I said, “ She was smiling then the smile just disappeared. Something is wrong. Every other time those other techs showed us the sac, the development. Even let us listen to the heartbeat. She didn’t do any of that.” My tone getting frantic. “She just left. She has to go upstairs? What the fuck does that mean?”

Mimie began to worry. I didn’t want to tell her but my emotions were running high too. There was something wrong. I knew it. Luck was going to elude us again. I was expecting to hear it from the horses mouth when she returned. I was dreading it. Mimie sat there. I was making sense to her with what I was saying. I didn’t know how we were going to react when she returned the with the news. I wiped the ultra sound gel off her belly and helped her get dressed and we stepped outside.

“Okay”, the technician said upon her return. “I want you guys to go up stairs and see another technician.” she said.

“Why upstairs?” Mimie inquired.

“I just want a second opinion on what I am seeing.” she said.

“So your saying there is a problem then?” I said in a sad tone.

“I am not a liberty to say. Only the doctor can make that call. That is why we are getting a second opinion.”

The tech said in the most sterile tone possible.

“But your essentially telling us there is a problem by having us get a second opinion.”, I said “this isn’t our first rodeo. You know we just lost twins, we have been in the room before. We know what is going on, there is no need to sugar coat it. We just want honesty, its her body and our life.”

I understand why she was apprehensive. After all she isn’t a doctor but she was seeing something wrong and we needed to know. All we know at this point is that she is pregnant, but how far along was she?

Once the female egg is fertilized at about the fourth week of development of a woman’s pregnancy there is a thickening of the endometrial lining walls and eventually the gestational sac forms. Around the fifth to sixth week the yolk sac will form inside it and then eventually the fetal pole will be the first sign of an embryo. There within the embryo, there should be a heart beat. Thus, sustaining life.

“I can lose my job” the technician told me, “I can not say for 100% that the pregnancy is not developing. I can tell you that the sac isn’t a circumference. It is more oval, like a chicken egg. But it doesn’t mean anything right now. You are so early in the pregnancies infancy at just five weeks three days it could possibly be that you are here too early. Just go get your second opinion. And will try again next week.”

I extend my hand to Mimie who is sitting on a bench in the hallway just outside the ultra sound room. We walk to the elevator that will bring us up to the other doctors office and will give us or second opinion. They confirmed what the first technician suspected. The sac has not developed, but they were not sure if this we due to the fact we came in very early.

Mimie wrote in her journal:

“[The technician] said it was possible we were off on our last LMP [Last Menstrual Cycle]. She was done w/the scan and told us to get dressed while she called the doctor upstairs. We wait and finally go upstairs. We are told the on call doctor is at the hospital and we are to wait around. We have our blood drawn and wait. Finally the doc [doctor] comes and goes by the report the tech faxed, no pictures. She said @ [at] this point in time it doesn’t look optimistic…there is generally a yolk sac by week 5 and a heartbeat near 7. I had neither. I (we) are devastated. We are told there is a 50/50 chance we are miscarrying.”

The walk back to the car was truly devastating. I wrote the word "devestating" to describe our feelings, before I knew Mimie felt the same way (the same word) when she wrote that "we were devestated". It was only when I decided to add her thoughts to the story and reviewed her journal. That's when I saw it.

We didn’t really talk, but we were both nervous. In hind sight we were just putting too much on us, too soon. This was going to be the longest week to wait for the another ultra sound. When we got home Mimie was surprisingly upbeat. Or she was really good at hiding her emotions. Me on the other hand, well I was very nervous. I was more nervous for Mimie. I didn’t want another blow to her feelings. The first thing I did was go on the internet and Google, “Sac not developing.” Big mistake. Because it would consume me.

I would go to all the web sites that would have anything to do with Gestational Sac not growing or measuring up. There were a ton of message boards with people posting messages of hope, fate, faith, and inspirational. I would spend all hours of my time reading them. If I found something of interest I would tell Mimie right away.

“Someone says here on this message board that their doctor told them that their gestational sac wasn’t developed and to abort the pregnancy. But the wall poster said that they didn’t and now have a beautiful baby girl. So see, they don’t know shit!” Mimie would humor me and nod her head. "See Mimie, what the fuck do they know!" My emotions running away with me.

I don’t think she wanted to think about the possibilities on what I found on the internet, yet she documented this in her journal:

The research Chris has done indicates a blighted ovum (false pregnancy) or maybe 2 sperm fertilized the egg , or the X + Y chromosomes didn’t meld and it never divided early on. We don’t know. My LMP: 3/3/07, Approx [approximate] conception 3/16-/3/22. How much else can we take?”

What we didn’t know was the worse of things to come if it wasn’t developed properly.

Mimie and I would go about our week as normal. But I know deep down it was on her mind. We were both working at the time, so we would consume our self in work trying to forget about the up coming appointment. So much on our mind. It was like we were obsessed with having a baby. We lost focus on everything else.

With the looming appointment days away I did my best to relieve our stress. We would go out to dinner and catch a movie. All the while, it was in the back of our mind, yet we never spoke of it. I was getting so frustrated with the medical message boards on the internet that I stopped reading them all together. There are so many people with different reasons why their gestational sac wasn’t developing, that it was hard to pin point what the hell our problem was.

Chapter V Rollercoaster

I would never recommend anyone to review those internet messaging boards, there is just no way to know what is going on in an individuals body. Instead of Googling “Sac not developing” I should have Googled “hope.” Because that is really all your looking for among the feed of lines that people place on those sites.
In the end it only depresses you more knowing that there is so much angst out there from people who just want to have a baby.

A few days prior to our appointment the doctors office would call Mimie with her blood results from the blood that was drawn the week before.

Mimie would write:

"We can have a D & C procedure, which is a surgical procedure that is essentially an abortion =( or we can wait for a miscarriage to just happen @ any point when the body figures out the pregnancy isn’t viable…I didn’t go to work yesterday b/c [because] I thought id have a call about the blood work. I told my boss I am waiting for the call. She said if I cant be in by noon to take a TO day. Finally rhe doc called @ 5:25 pm yesterday w/my blood results. He said the HCG level was good, @ 13,000. Good what? I didn’t understand. I asked what week would I be in @ 13,000 and he said 6. He said more than likely it’s a miscarriage due to the irregular shape (per the tech) sac and 120 yolk sac.”

Finally the day had arrived it was he following Friday after we found out that the Gestation Sac was not a circumference. We were on pins and needles. Amazing how stressed you can feel about something that is not in your control. I think that only adds to it.

We enter into the same room we were in last time. Mimie assumes her same position. I am to the left of her and the technician is to her right, looking at the screen as she begins her ultra sound.
Its deja vue all over again.

“Well”, the tech says “ it is a circle now so that is good. And there is a yolk in the sac another good thing.”
Mimie and I smile. I close my eyes and breath in deep. I’m hoping good things for Mimie because I don’t want her to feel sad anymore. We need this, she needs this.

“I think this is the heartbeat” she says as she broadcast the thumping sound on the speakers that are installed in the sonogram machine. “You think” I ask, the whole time I’m wondering where the fuck she was trained at?

“The fetus is pretty close to one of the main blood vessels. I can’t tell if that is the heart beat or her heart beat. But I do believe I see a ‘flicker of light’.

Referring to the blood passing through the heart.

The sonogram is a device that sends ultra sound waves into the body that in turn, returns an image to the screen for viewing. It’s a good non evasive procedure that doesn’t require cutting into the body to view an illness. As the heart beats in the fetus the ultra sound returns the image back, like a candle it is seen as it flickers.

Without much confidence in our technician we leave, but not before she tells us to make another appointment for the Monday after next. So for the third week in a row we will be retuning to view the young seed that doesn’t seem to want to grow.

“Man Mimie“, I said “Will never make an appointment this early again. This back and forth is fucking ridiculous. Its hard to live like this.”

Mimie nodded her head in agreement, “I know. The yes its good fetus, no it's a bad fetus is crazy."

Even though we weren’t on hundred percent sure this was a successful pregnancy there was still hope since the sac had formed into a circle, a fetal pole was seen and there was a possible heartbeat offering us a “flicker” of hope. We decided we would go to breakfast and enjoy what little good news we received.

We went to the mall that was just down the street from the doctors office. Inside the mall is a small restaurant that has a pretty good breakfast. It wasn’t too crowded for a Friday and we were able to sit right down.

“So what did you think?” picking Mimie’s brain about the appointment.

“Well she didn’t give me a whole lot of confidence I know that much.” she paused as the waitress came over to ask us what we wanted to drink.

Mimie ordered a water and for myself I had an orange juice. There was Starbucks in the mall so we would get our latte fix after we finished breakfast.

“I think we just made our doctor appointment too early. Maybe we should have waited a few weeks.” Mimie said, resuming our conversation after our waitress left.

“Could be. But not knowing if the heartbeat was part of the baby doesn’t give me a whole lot of confidence. Especially in that damn tech” I told Mimie as I fiddled with the small cardboard advertisement placed on the table promoting their Early Bird dinner specials.

“ I’m happy though , it could be worse . There could’ve been nothing there at all, but I can’t stand this constant up and down you know.” Mimie agreed.

It’s true. This emotional rollercoaster was taking a toll on us both. There is only so many times you can ride it before you start getting motion sickness. And then finally, just throwing up.

I think we were both ready to get out of this amusement ride line and never return. It wasn’t fun anymore.

We’d think about how all the reckless people in the world, who can get pregnant, but yet, we had to struggle I guess everyone who has had difficulty with getting pregnant before us and after us, feel the same way.

It reminded me of a situation that occurred after I returned to work in December of 2006 after taking off nearly two months of leave to mourn the loss of our children.

I had just gotten promoted right before I was to go on maternity leave for the birth of the twin girls. I was only in my new position for about six weeks when the tragedy occurred.

When I returned to work on December 3rd I had to go directly to night shift. Funny how you work your whole career to get promoted, but since you have shitty seniority you return to the bottom of the barrel as a boss. Where in your old position, prior to getting promoted, you had good seniority and could choose your own fate. I was now at the will of the other supervisors above me. It was like starting all over again.

The adiministraion placed a new officer with me to train. I didn’t mind at the time because nights can get lonely on patrol. At least I wouldn’t be alone with my thoughts. I could concentrate on teaching the new guy.

One night while we were on patrol I noticed a car parked towards the rear of a closed business. It was about 3 AM and odd for any car to be in the parking lot of a closed business so late. Not only was it odd for the time, but the driver of the suspicious car parked in a place that was just begging for it to be checked out by the police.

The vehicle was in the rear of the building but not to inconspicuous because it could be seen from the main road way. The small compact car was in the last parking space and partially in the dark. The glimmer of light from a parking lot lamp post was reflecting off the rear tail light. It is this reflection that caught my attention, but not the rookie officer’s attention.

“Did you see that?” I asked my trainee.

He was a short stocky man. Clean shaven, bald head. He was definitely strong and I wouldn’t want to mess with him if I had to confront him on the street if I were a bad guy.

“See what?” He asked.

“Okay, going back.” I said annoyed.

I make a quick u-turn in then police car and return to the plaza with the single car parked in it. Prior to tuning in from the main street I turn off the main car headlights. I utilize my police radio and notify them I would be out with a suspicious vehicle.

121 (My Radio ID) Palms West (dispatch)

Palms West: Go ahead 121

121: I’m going to be out with a 13V (suspicious car) 13P (suspicious person) to the rear of the Professional Plaza.

Palms West: 10-4, 121 (message acknowledged)

I park the patrol car back and away from the occupied vehicle. My trainee and I quietly exit the car.

We both close our doors by gently applying pressure to into the door jam with our hip, kind of a like hip checking the door. Once we hear the click of the door, the sound of the mechanism finding the steal latch attached to the body of the car, the door is secured.

We both approach the suspicious car. I take the driver side and my trainee walks on the passenger side. When I get close enough to the car I am able to see inside. None of the car windows were tinted and it made it easy to see the on goings of a struggle inside.

I remove my very bright maglight flashlight from its holster that’s attached to my gun belt and use the 24,000 candle power to light up the inside passenger compartment of the car.

The bright light would shine on a reality of life that is more common then some think. And total bullshit to come across after what Mimie and I just went through. It made me question my faith in God and the process of natural selection.

Chapter VI I've Got Twins

There are three woman inside the automobile. I could clearly see a blonde female in the back seat of the older model vehicle. It was a little difficult to see the two other female’s in the front seat. But the view of them got better as I moved in closer and my light shed more light on their situation.

There was a haze of smoke in the air causing the light to reflect back against it, but I could see through it as if it were a transparent wall. The light startled them. The girl, sitting in the driver’s seat, attempted to conceal something under her butt, but the window gave way to a clear view of her jumping around as if she was sitting on something hot. Her body language giving her away.

The female in the driver seat lowered the car window. The smell that entered my nostrils through my sinuses and down the back of my throat smelled like burning plastic, but with a flare of sweetness to it. They were smoking crack cocaine.

“What are you doing out here tonight in a parking lot of a closed business?” I inquired the driver in typical police officer fashion. But like a parent already knowing he answer.

“The car won’t start”, the startled and nervous driver said.

She couldn’t have been older then twenty-five years old. Her black hair, brown eyes and olive tone complexion, giving away her Hispanic heritage. She had decent clothes on from what I could see from my advantage point standing outside the car, but the rest of her was a mess.

“Get out of the car for me”, I order her. Her suspicious activity not dispelling my alarm, thus warrants a further investigation. She was, without a doubt, not free to leave.

It appeared that she hadn’t showered in days. But at this stage of her drug life, I don’t think hygiene was her priority. By the looks of all the women in the car, it wasn’t a priority for any of them.

“Okay what are you guys really doing here? Stop bullshitting me. I’m not new to this.” I said to the driver of the car. She was being coy with me but I wanted to hear what I already new. I wasn’t yet a parent but to this point I was truly feeling like one.

“Nothing officer” she said without looking at me, “We basically broke down and we were just chillen until someone came to get us.”

“Well when are they getting here? And why were you arguing?” I said, demanding answers.

“Oh shit, we were messing around we weren’t arguing, damn.” she said with content, “and I don’t know when they are getting here, we haven’t called anyone yet.” She said with some frustration.

I just stared at her but she wouldn’t look at me. She’d averted her eyes to the ground every time she spoke. I felt like I was talking to a wall. I decided to speak with the young girl. Who I first encountered when I arrived into their world.

She was very young, not yet twenty years old. She had blonde hair that was almost white. Her skin was very pale, her body very skinny and she wore glasses.

After talking with the driver of the car this little nineteen year old was way out of her league. Possibly new to the crack game. My trainee took the front passenger out of the car and begun to investigate her story.

“Okay I know what the hell is going on here. She already told me”, I point to the driver “I just want to hear it from you.”

“What did you hear officer?”, the young girl said with a tremble to her voice.

“That you had all the drugs and refused to give them any. In fact, you wanted to fight them, but they were trying to calm you down.” I told her with a straight face.

Her pale skin turned even more flushed, like all the blood was being drained out of her. The thought of those girls placing all the blame on her scared the hell out of her.

“No, No, No!”, she said adamantly, “ that is not how this went down. We were all fighting for the crack but that bitch wouldn’t give it up. Fuck that, I didn’t do shit.”

I have to admit, I was shocked how quickly she turned on them, and even more shocked she was so forthright.

“So who has the crack now?” I inquire.

“Toni” she said pointing in the direction of my trainee who was investigating her.

My eyes follow her arm down to the tip of her index finger. I then gaze beyond her and to her friend Toni. As I size her up, I notice one blaring thing sticking out to me above all, literally. Her very large, very real pregnant stomach sticking out over her waist.

As the nineteen year old continued to confess their sins, I ignored her. I began to walk in the same direction her dirty, calloused, cracked burned finger was pointing at. Ignoring all officer safety protocols, ignoring her, ignoring the driver. I was oblivious to anything else around me.

I approach the passenger and my eyes are locked on her belly. I hear her talking to my trainee but I didn’t give a fuck what she was saying, in mid-sentence I cut her off abruptly.

“Your pregnant?” I ask her stating the obvious.

“Yea, I am” she said with a Spanish and New York accent.

She was an average girl in height. Her hair was black and pulled into a pony tail. She had brown eyes wearing blue jeans a black shirt and had on a light jacket. She wasn’t wearing a maternity shirt, I suppose at the rate she wasn’t being very maternal anyhow.

“Your pregnant?” I ask again, in disbelief.

My eyes are bulging and I am trying to contain what little patience I have in me. I can not believe she is pregnant. I was begin to boil. I am still mourning the loss of our twin daughters just a few short months prior to this.

“Yea, I am so what.” she said with an attitude.

She rolls her eyes like a child and sucks her lips in. Her stance is one of pride and she won’t back down from this confrontation. She crosses her arms in defiance. Resting them on the large bubble that is her stomach.

“Your fighting over crack cocaine, in a fucking parking lot, at two in the morning, and your fucking pregnant.” I say sternly, still in disbelief.

My focus is solely on her. Thankfully there is other officers here since I am no longer aware of my surroundings. As far as I was concerned it was just her and I in the world.

“I ain’t smoking no fucking crack.” she says adamantly.

I can see the red in her face even in this low light. I can’t tell if its embarrassment or genuine anger at the fact I am judging her. But when your in a crack filled car bearing a child I will judge your character.

“That’s not what she said.” I point back at the blonde, “in fact, she said you have the crack on you. She must not think too highly of you. And honestly I’m not right now either.”

“I ain’t smoking no crack.” she said again getting more angry. “ I don’t give a fuck what the ho says.”

“Bullshit you aren’t smoking crack. And your fucking pregnant!” My voice elevating cutting her off before she can finish a thought.

She patiently waits for me to finish my rant.

“Let me tell you something Mr. Officer, I may smoke a little weed and snort some cocaine, but I ain’t smoking no crack, I got twins in here”, placing both hands on the sides of her stomach, she grabs her belly and lifts it up.

My demeanor blew up within me and the debris spewed from my mouth with all the anger of a two year old being told no. I point my finger at her and started to yell whatever came in my mind. My voice raising higher and higher as hearing about her twins continued to be absorbed through my fragile exterior and into my being.

Another officer pulls me back by grabbing the rear of my gun belt as I continue my verbal tirade. He uses the momentum of my attempt to work my way out of his grasp by swinging me around in a semi-circle. He bear hugs me and pushes me away like a offensive lineman defending against a defensive lineman protecting his quarterback.

He backs me into the side of my police car and braces me against it as I continue to yell. The crack smoking pregnant female is just staring at me unable to move not fully understanding why I am taking it personal.

After I calmed down, I had to sit in my patrol car. Removing myself from the situation. It became too personal for me and I could not work through my pain and anger to follow through with the rest of the investigation. My supervisor assigned it and my trainee to someone else for the night and I went home.

It always bothered my that I never gave her my card, thinking that maybe I could adopt the children when they were born.
This incident is something that will stick with my for all my days. It was a sad story to tell Mimie. It amazed us how ungrateful some people were that they had a gift to procreate.

The honor bestowed on them to continue the human race. This wasn’t a political debate about a woman’s right to choose. It was more of moral debate about the choice’s she made throughout her life.

It’s a story I’d share again over our breakfast on this day, as we talked about the potential of losing this pregnancy in its infancy. The idea that we had to struggle knowing that we would be excellent parents and the knowledge that their were others, like the girl with the twins, who didn’t appreciate that gift, seemed unfair. But who ever said life was.  


Creative Commons License
Born Again by Christopher P. Fusaro is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.


  1. You don't know me...but this post rang true to me. I'm a social worker and I've been trying to have children for 4 years...and suffered a devestating miscarriage. It's taken a toll on my relationship and my marriage is now ending, I can picture myself, with your anger, seeing that woman in the car...

    Regardless, I am so very, very sorry for the many losses you have endured....your family is in my prayers.

  2. Hey I know you don't know me but I read your story and it was touching and I think it will help people understand more because this story made me feel like I was in it. I am willing to support and get people to read this because you need a great job on this story :) <3 my prayers are with you <3

  3. your writing is mesmerizing and your story heartbreaking. Sharing it with the rest of us will help you heal....because we will all be praying for you!