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But the desire to have a child
would not go away. I went to a workshop on women and HIV and
the speaker (who was a nurse) said that just because a woman
was HIV positive, she did not give up the right to have a
baby. This was a revelation to me. I couldn’t believe
that someone was saying that it was okay to think about having
kids in my condition.
My husband and I started
talking about it again. I remember thinking that if I could
just give him a baby, it would be a piece of me he could have
forever, even if I was no longer around.
My husband felt we should
go ahead, but after agonizing over the decision, I felt I
couldn’t go through with it. This was before AZT was
used to reduce transmission and the risk of my passing the
virus to the baby was one in four. I felt it was wrong for
me to take that chance. When I told my husband my decision,
it was very difficult for him to accept.
Years went by and many of
our HIV positive friends had found ways of having children.
One couple adopted, another used a surrogate mother, another
used sperm washing (father was positive and mother was negative)
and one couple had a child themselves. In all cases the babies
were fine. Not having a baby ourselves was a huge hole in
our lives. It was as if HIV had taken everything away from
us.
By this time the results
of the study showing that AZT reduced the risk of transmission
were released, but I had already developed resistance to AZT.
The protease inhibitors were coming out and I thought that
I might be able to go on a combo containing one of them, bring
my viral load down to undetectable and feel okay about getting
pregnant.
I planned all this very carefully,
got on a regimen that worked and started interviewing obstetricians.
I was worried that they would all be judgmental. But I found
a doctor who was wonderful. I remember walking out of my first
appointment and saying to my husband, “She treated me
like a normal woman.” That’s all I wanted. Just
the fact that she was willing to accept me as a patient would
have been enough, but she also was obviously a great doctor
with a lot of experience with HIV positive pregnancies.
With all systems go, my husband
and I got underway using artificial inseminations so as not
to put him at risk. Believe me, the whole process with the
turkey baster was not particularly romantic! After about three
months I went for a viral load test and found out that my
protease inhibitor regimen was not working. My viral load
had gone up and I no longer felt safe trying to have a baby.
It seemed that every time
we made some plans, they turned out to be built on a house
of cards that came crashing down around us. I was very distraught.
I didn’t know what HIV drugs to take. I didn’t know
what drugs would still work for me. I remember lying in bed
one night when my husband was away and thinking: I am completely
alone—no one can help me, no one can tell me what to
do, no one knows the answers.
I eventually went on a double
PI combo that brought my viral load down to undetectable and
kept it there. After about six months on the new combination,
we decided to try again. But when I started working with my
obstetrician again, she told me I needed to see a fertility
specialist. This was too much—on top of everything else
I found out I had a fertility problem.
The fertility specialist
was also non-judgmental and she had no problems treating me
even though I was HIV positive. Nonetheless, it was a real
blow when I had to start on fertility drugs. It’s a very
expensive process that insurance did not cover. If it weren’t
for my parents, we would not have been able to afford it.
After several months I hadn’t
gotten pregnant and the doctor started me on stronger and
more expensive fertility drugs. It was about $100 a day to
buy those. We did it for a few months and felt we had to make
a decision about what to do. I was 36 by then and time and
money seemed to be running out.
I just couldn’t face
giving up, but my husband was starting to feel that it would
never happen. I started accepting that we might never have
a child and had just about convinced myself that it was all
over. We gave ourselves one, or maybe two more cycles to try.
Then in March 2000, when
the doctor inseminated me, I felt different right from the
start. My husband and I both had a feeling that it was going
to work this time. Sure enough, a few weeks later I went for
the pregnancy test and it came back positive!
I have to say that because
this decision was so difficult and such a long time in coming
that once I actually got pregnant, I was not as worried as
I thought I would be. After getting over the initial shock,
I started to enjoy the pregnancy. Then we started seeing movement
when I would go for sonograms. We saw the baby’s heartbeat
at week 10. That was amazing.
We started telling people
after that and it was such a joy. Seven years earlier we had
told everyone I was HIV positive and brought such devastating
news to our family and friends. Now, we were able to go back
and tell all those people who had stood by us and helped us
that I was pregnant. It was as if we had come full circle
in so many ways. My husband felt we were blessed for all we
had been through. As I got larger, I started to enjoy the
pregnancy even more. It was one of the happiest and most joyful
times of my life. I felt it was very healing for us.
On December 3, 2000, our
son arrived. We couldn’t get over how tiny and perfect
and precious he was. He was a winter baby. The first few months
after he was born it was snowy and cold outside. All I wanted
was to stay snug and warm in our little house with my little
family. I had everything I had always wanted right here at
home.
After a few months, we got
the final HIV test results and found out our baby was negative!
Although I hadn’t really expected him to be infected,
it was still a huge relief that we could stop worrying about
it.
He got more beautiful as
he got older. It has been truly amazing to watch him grow
and develop physically and mentally. Time seems to stop and
race ahead all at once. Each moment can be so intense and
yet all the moments blur together and before we knew it, 2½
years had passed!
We still find great pleasure
in holding and kissing our son’s warm, soft, sweet-smelling
little body. But he is no longer our little baby. He has grown
into a toddler with endless curiosity, energy, and desire
to push the boundaries of his abilities and his world. Even
though it is not always easy, I feel so lucky that I am a
mom at last.
I hope I am here to watch
my son grow up, graduate school, and go on to have a life
and family of his own. But even if I am not, I will never
regret what we went through to have him and will always be
grateful that we have had the privilege of being parents to
such a remarkable child.
Wendy Williams is a pseudonym.
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