[Diary of an Expat Bride] Baby dreams

Having a baby is not as easy as it sounds, especially the older you get. Not only biological but emotional obstacles stand in the way. My friends who married young and had babies right away rarely thought, “Is this the right time?” or “Next April would be the best time to have a baby, after such and such is paid off.” However, the older we get the more we want things to be specifically planned in an almost obsessive way, and mother nature doesn’t always agree. While Can and I knew we wanted to have a baby, we thought it would be best for our respective schedules to wait at least a year before trying, when we would be in a “better position” to have a baby.

Personally, I have been worried about conceiving since my teenage years. Doctors in both the US and in Turkey warned me that due to some hormonal issues, I would most likely have a difficult time conceiving. These problems affected not only my menstrual cycle but also gave me severe migraines, which I suffered for years. My doctor in Turkey, who I had been seeing regularly for over six years, told me that I could start some hormone supplements to help with conception. Failing that, we would keep taking things one step at a time, and do in vitro fertilization if necessary. I have had several friends with similar problems and listened as they told me about how they had to give themselves daily injections, keep ovulation calendars and monitor their temperatures. This was not a world I was enthusiastic to enter, so Can and I decided to wait a year before seriously trying for a baby as the emotional toll of those fertility treatments seemed overwhelming.

A vivid dream

Almost two months after our wedding I had the strangest, most vivid dream. I woke up in the middle of the night, and I knew that I was pregnant. The dream had been about a turtle, and the details of the dream made me feel certain that somehow, despite what the doctors had said, I was pregnant. It seems strange, maybe, that a dream about a turtle led me to that conclusion, but not so strange to those who grew up heavily exposed to Native American spiritual beliefs like I was. I felt that the turtle represented my baby’s spirit, just as the butterfly I had long ago learned represented mine. When I told Can about this the next morning, he laughed at me as I am sure most people reading this article also will. We couldn’t take an over-the-counter pregnancy test for another week or so, and I anxiously counted the days.

The day we bought the test it was just like on TV. Can waited nervously outside the bathroom door until I came out with the test that showed a “positive” sign. Somehow, despite the odds, we were pregnant! It just goes to show that mother nature can and will trump doctors on occasion. We were so excited we couldn’t wait to go to the doctor and have it confirmed with a blood test. After my doctor, who was very happy to give us the news, also concurred, we felt we could truly celebrate.

That night Can wanted to go to his parents’ house for dinner and also tell them the good news. I hesitated and tried to convince him to wait a month or a few weeks at best. His mom and I had had a huge fight recently, and one of the many things she had accused me of was pressuring Can to have a baby. She didn’t think we were ready for a baby, since Can had only recently started a new job that would make him travel extensively over the next year. Can apparently had also been a terrible baby, and she was not looking forward to taking care of his offspring. Very strange words for a mother to say, and even worse to throw at your son’s new wife. Can knew nothing of this fight and didn’t understand why I didn’t want to tell them right away.

Sure enough, when we broke the news to them, they acted as though they had been expecting it. Can’s mom shot me a nasty look and said, “I knew this would happen.” I felt like I was a shunned teenager who had gotten knocked up in high school, rather than a 30-year-old married woman. Can’s face registered the hurt he felt, and his mom immediately plastered a fake-happy mask over her emotions and kissed him on both cheeks. She did not kiss me, which Can did not fail to notice. We said goodbye soon after, and Can almost cried in the car as we drove home. He couldn’t understand their negative reaction. I didn’t tell him that his mom had whispered to me in the kitchen while I was making coffee, “You couldn’t wait, could you?”

All of this I buried; I didn’t want to hurt him more. I didn’t want anyone to take away the joy I felt, the relief that I wouldn’t have to go through all of the physically and emotionally demanding fertility treatments that doctors on both sides of the Atlantic had thought I would have to use. No one was going to take this moment from me, not now. I deserved to revel in it.

Making room for a baby