What Happened When My Much Older Husband and I Finally Tried to Have Another Baby

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After my mis­car­riage, my May-December mar­riage suf­fered. We strug­gled to con­nect because of many rea­sons. I strug­gled try­ing to be sex­ual with and for Kee­gan, while he strug­gled try­ing to help me, because what I wanted and what I needed were often two dif­fer­ent things. But we made it through the storm and out the other side; even if we were limp­ing as a cou­ple, we made it.

The day we hit the six-month mark in our mar­riage, my doc­tor called me personally—we had grown very close. They had been keep­ing such a close watch on me that now that we were finally cleared, the doc­tor needed me to know it was truly safe to try to con­ceive again if we wished to do so. Kee­gan was with me when I got the call and he was beyond relieved. His biggest fear was los­ing me due to some rare can­cer that came out of the loss of our son.

That night, we made love in a truly sweet and pas­sion­ate way. Hear­ing the news that we were cleared after hav­ing gone through every­thing that we did was a god­send for our rela­tion­ship. What a huge weight it lifted off our shoul­ders. About four months after the loss of our son, I stopped all med­ica­tions and allowed my body to heal nat­u­rally, but I con­tin­ued to take pre­na­tal vit­a­mins to ensure that once we could try again, there wouldn’t be any risk of side effects from any medications.

We found out I was preg­nant exactly three weeks to the day from that six-month mark. I called the doctor’s office and broke the news. Because it was so soon in the preg­nancy, they were hes­i­tantly happy for us. What they didn’t tell me was that get­ting preg­nant this time around would require more tests than before. I had test­ing every three days ini­tially, then every week, plus ultra­sounds every two week. Every­thing finally calmed down once I hit the sec­ond trimester. I pur­chased a heart mon­i­tor to lis­ten for the baby’s heart­beat at home any time I felt anx­ious that some­thing was wrong. Some­times Kee­gan and I would just lay there lis­ten­ing to the baby’s heart beating.

For Kee­gan, this was life’s great­est joy. His first-born child was a happy and healthy lit­tle girl who looked just like her daddy with brown hair and brown eyes. This time though, we had quite a dis­agree­ment about find­ing out the sex of the child. I had to know—the preg­nancy was very sim­i­lar to my first preg­nancy, so I believed it was a girl. Kee­gan was just hop­ing for a happy baby—or at least that’s what he told any­one who asked. How­ever, in pri­vate he admit­ted to me that, of course, he would love to have a son.

When the time came to find out, we were both ecsta­tic and ner­vous. It was about halfway through the preg­nancy. “It’s another girl!” the tech­ni­cian said excit­edly. We both looked at each other and smiled.

I trusted your intu­ition, Vivian. I knew it would be a girl if you thought it was,” Kee­gan said, kiss­ing me on the fore­head. “She’ll just be a girl who plays soc­cer and baseball!”

We all had a good laugh, but a part of me was still ter­ri­fied that this baby wouldn’t make it. But I kept my con­cerns quiet and let Kee­gan enjoy the moment.

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About Vivian

I am 26 and my husband 45. At first, our friendship existed mostly online. I was actually helping my now husband with his dating profile when it dawned on me that he was exactly what I was looking for in a perfect life partner. So, I asked him out and we have been together ever since. We now have two daughters together and everyone that knows us will tell you that they simply can’t imagine us apart, and neither can we. I’m no stranger to May-December relationships—my father was 71 and my mother was 33 when I was born. I have never dated a guy my own age. Anything less than 10 years older than me just seems wrong, and frankly, it doesn’t even turn me on in the slightest bit to think about it. It’s actually a turn-off. After going through relationships with a few rich older men, I finally settled down with my husband. I’m sure there were people waging bets on how quickly our marriage would fall apart, but we’re determined to prove them all wrong.