CREDIT: ADAM D. KEARNEY
This installment chronicles Adam and Jolene's attempts to get pregnant.

This article is Part Seven in a series of excerpts from Fanshawe grad Adam D. Kearney’s essay, Grief & Eugenics: An Ableist Horror Story.

It took some time but eventually Jolene became pregnant. We were ecstatic and wanted to tell the world, but because this was only the beginning of a process we only told the family and friends close enough that we felt comfortable sharing all the details with. It was nerve-wracking waiting for the prenatal testing appointment. Our house was electric with the excitement for all the joyous possibilities. We started talking about names and what colours we would want in the nursery. We knew it was a 50/50 chance that I could pass on my OI genetics and what we would do with that information. That didn’t stop my ex from finding a heartbeat on a Doppler (portable ultrasound) and sending me a video of it at work. My heart melted the instant I heard it.

Finally the day came for the test appointment. It really is a difficult procedure to go through. Physically it involves a large needle and plenty of discomfort, and psychologically not only are you left waiting for results, but there is a significant risk of miscarriage as well. It went smoothly though, and before too long we were back at home trying to act cool as we waited for the result. Since Jolene was regularly on call, and potentially not somewhere appropriate to deal with the news we had the doctor call me with the results. I still remember seeing his number come up on the phone while I was at work about a week later. My voice cracking with nervousness as I answered it.


Unfortunately, the doctor did not deliver the news we were hoping for. I was crushed, and shed a few tears as we discussed coming in for our follow up appointment. We had already discussed with him what our decision would be depending on the results. After hanging up, as the tears continued to roll down my face, I thought of how I was going to break the news to Jolene.

I firmly believe in a woman’s right to choose to do with her body as she feels is right, and that my role is to be the best supportive partner I can be. This story isn’t to debate the right to choose, but to discuss the decisions made around genetic testing. I firmly believed in that moment that we were making the right decision with the information that we had. Jolene decided she wanted to experience labour, giving birth to our child after having been induced, so that we could meet, hold and spend time with them. I can not describe to you how anguishing it is making these decisions and also dealing with waiting periods after having done so. We cried ourselves to sleep every night leading up to the day of our appointment.

I am not going to go into any details of that day, but feel it is important to acknowledge that on Aug. 28, 2015 our son Stuart Indio was stillborn. We had named him after Stuart McLean, the famed Canadian raconteur from the CBC radio show Vinyl Cafe. Listening to it was our favourite Sunday morning ritual. Indio, we chose because we had just gone on a trip to the music festival Coachella, which is held in the Indio Valley of California. We spent a couple of hours holding and sharing our love with him. We took a few photos with him. I haven’t looked at them in a long time - they are some of the saddest photos I have ever seen. The look of heartbreak on our faces is indescribable. At that time I wanted a family more than anything in the world. A feeling of regret snuck into my heart, though before long I was lost in all of the emotions all at once.

It took us sometime to come back from the loss. The hospital connected us with a counselor to talk to. This helped us navigate some very raw emotions but what really carried us through this challenging time was still wanting to have a child. As we navigated our grief, one thing that managed to act like a light at the end of a dark tunnel was that the provincial government had just started a program that covered a couple’s first round of IVF. Not wanting to find ourselves in the same situation as with Stuart we jumped at the opportunity to apply for the funding. We were able to secure it rather quickly, leaving only the genetic testing for us to cover. This was a fraction of the price of the whole process.

Still grief-stricken, we began making trips to Toronto to an IVF specialist clinic. Being the male half of the equation I got off far too easy in the equation. I tried to be as supportive as possible every step of the way. However, after months of appointments, countless self injections and procedures my partner had to put herself through, it was all for naught. At the end of the day only a couple of the embryos had matured to the point where testing was possible. After the testing, only one was considered “viable.” I still cringe every time I hear that word. Sadly, our one chance with the whole process didn’t work out and we were back at square one.

We took some time to unpack from the journey we had been on and tried to not put too much pressure on ourselves to figure out the next steps. To do IVF again would mean paying for the whole thing out of pocket and we were not prepared for that. Jolene was by far the breadwinner in the household, my paycheques were only a fraction of what hers were. By this time it felt like this whole thing was my fault and I couldn’t bare the thought of her paying the lion's share of IVF because of my “undesired genes.” IVF was our plan, but we were waiting for a better time to execute it. That’s when we accidentally (drunkenly) got pregnant again.

Imagine my shock, wheeling through Value Village looking for an outfit for my upcoming birthday when I get a text which is just a picture of a positive pregnancy test. I knew I was supposed to feel excited by this opportunity but all I felt was dread. The memory of holding Stuart in my arms came rushing back and in no way did I ever want to go through that again. I feigned an excited text and told Jolene I would be home right away.

To be continued…

This memoir essay was published as a zine in Jan. 2023. If you enjoy it and feel you would like to support the author, you can find a pay what you can PDF or purchase a physical copy at handcutcompany.com.