I think Katelyn likes music. She starts moving and kicking when I play it most times. So either she likes it or she’s trying to tell me to turn that racket off! I’m going to go with the idea that she likes it.
I have been trying to play a variety of different music when I am driving in the car, just to see what she responds to. I know there is probably not much to this, but it’s been fun to do anyway. A few days back, a song came on that I typically skip out of habit. I had skipped it all throughout our struggle with infertility, but for some reason I never actually took it off my iPod. When it came on this time though, I didn’t skip it.
It felt like a given
Something a woman's born to do
A natural ambition
To see a reflection of me and you
And I'd feel so guilty
If that was a gift I couldn't give
And could you be happy
If life wasn't how we pictured it
And sometimes I just want to wait it out
To prove everybody wrong
And I need your help to move on
Cause you know it's so hard
It's so hard
It's so hard when it doesn't come easy
It's so hard when it doesn't come fast
It's so hard when it doesn't come easy
So hard
As soon as this song started, Katelyn began to move and kick. Nothing more than a coincidence I’m sure, but it hit me really strong. Something about hearing those words and feeling my baby kick was very overwhelming. It was one of ‘those’ moments.
Our time through infertility was SO hard. Not as hard as others' trials, but the longest and hardest trial I have ever faced. And although I am pregnant now, I still feel it there. Even when I hold my baby in 4 short months, it will still be there. It will always be there. Duller, easier and much more manageable, but still there.
I can live for the moment
When all these clouds open up for me to see
And show me a vision
Of you and me swimming peacefully
I am constantly amazed by my fellow infertility warriors, especially those who continue to support me throughout the pregnancy. I know how hard that can be because I’ve been there. I am blown away by your supportive comments on here and on Facebook. It is stunning. It touches me so deeply and no matter what words I try to use to express how I feel, they aren’t enough.
Sometimes life is SO hard. But the reward at the end is so very sweet. Praying we all get our sweet reward soon.
Showing posts with label Infertility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Infertility. Show all posts
Monday, June 13, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
I'm a Work in Progress
Early this morning, I read a blog post from my friend, Sarah. She was talking about her “spare room” and the longing she has to turn it into a nursery. Her words really resonated with me. I, too, have a spare room. It started about 7 years ago when I insisted we rent a 2 bedroom apartment, so we would have room for a baby. When we bought our house nearly 5 years ago, it had 3 bedrooms. We made one our bedroom, one a music room and threw everything else we didn’t know what to do with into the 3rd bedroom. We even called it the “3rd bedroom”.
As the years went by, I began to wonder if it would always be just the “3rd bedroom”. Part of me wanted to change it into something else, but the other part couldn’t bear to do it. So it just sat.
When I became pregnant this time around, I told Ryan I was going to jump in right away and get to work on that room. But I haven’t. Because there is so much to buy, I thought I would start making purchases immediately. But I haven’t. I am 5 ½ months pregnant and I haven’t even begun to clean out the bedroom closet. I’ve bought one thing for the nursery (the baby monitor). That’s it. I’ve had the time and energy to do it. But I haven’t.
I kept giving myself deadlines… I’ll start cleaning when the morning sickness is better. I’ll buy something with my next paycheck. When I find out the gender. When I confirm the gender. When Ryan and I have days off together. New deadlines I never meet.
Why is that? I am beyond excited. What is my problem then? After reading Sarah’s post today I realized… I’m scared. For so long I wondered if I would ever have a baby’s room. I stopped imagining what it would look like. I stopped thinking how I’d decorate it. I pushed it out of my mind and pretended that room didn’t exist.
Now that the time is here when I can finally create my child’s bedroom, I feel intimidated. Scared. Unrealistically afraid that in doing so, I will ‘jinx’ myself. If I let myself be too excited and carefree, it will hurt more if all of this is taken away. Every item I buy and every decoration I make would be one more reminder of what we’ve lost if we were to lose her.
I am starting to wonder if I need some help in dealing with these emotions. It’s like I have a mild form of PTSD or something. I have to make a concerted effort not to visualize the bad things that could happen. I won’t go into detail, but I would like this to get better.
Just writing it out has been helpful, as jumbled as this blog post may be. I think I need to face my anxiety, have some faith and jump in with both feet. It is a disservice to those 7 years of infertility, and all the other women still waiting, if I don’t enjoy this to the fullest. And my daughter deserves a mom who isn’t paralyzed by fear.
I took a big step and chose the colors for the room, and I have some ideas of what I’d like to do. My next goal is to clean out the closet within one week. Baby steps…
As the years went by, I began to wonder if it would always be just the “3rd bedroom”. Part of me wanted to change it into something else, but the other part couldn’t bear to do it. So it just sat.
When I became pregnant this time around, I told Ryan I was going to jump in right away and get to work on that room. But I haven’t. Because there is so much to buy, I thought I would start making purchases immediately. But I haven’t. I am 5 ½ months pregnant and I haven’t even begun to clean out the bedroom closet. I’ve bought one thing for the nursery (the baby monitor). That’s it. I’ve had the time and energy to do it. But I haven’t.
I kept giving myself deadlines… I’ll start cleaning when the morning sickness is better. I’ll buy something with my next paycheck. When I find out the gender. When I confirm the gender. When Ryan and I have days off together. New deadlines I never meet.
Why is that? I am beyond excited. What is my problem then? After reading Sarah’s post today I realized… I’m scared. For so long I wondered if I would ever have a baby’s room. I stopped imagining what it would look like. I stopped thinking how I’d decorate it. I pushed it out of my mind and pretended that room didn’t exist.
Now that the time is here when I can finally create my child’s bedroom, I feel intimidated. Scared. Unrealistically afraid that in doing so, I will ‘jinx’ myself. If I let myself be too excited and carefree, it will hurt more if all of this is taken away. Every item I buy and every decoration I make would be one more reminder of what we’ve lost if we were to lose her.
I am starting to wonder if I need some help in dealing with these emotions. It’s like I have a mild form of PTSD or something. I have to make a concerted effort not to visualize the bad things that could happen. I won’t go into detail, but I would like this to get better.
Just writing it out has been helpful, as jumbled as this blog post may be. I think I need to face my anxiety, have some faith and jump in with both feet. It is a disservice to those 7 years of infertility, and all the other women still waiting, if I don’t enjoy this to the fullest. And my daughter deserves a mom who isn’t paralyzed by fear.
I took a big step and chose the colors for the room, and I have some ideas of what I’d like to do. My next goal is to clean out the closet within one week. Baby steps…
Monday, May 9, 2011
A Message
After a comment and a couple emails, I have something I need to say...
I apologize if my pregnancy posts hurts anyone in any way. That thought torments me with every picture I post or pregnancy tidbit I share. In real life, on Facebook, and here. I have posted, deleted, re-posted and edited the heck out of each one, trying to make it okay. Some people find hope in what I write, but other people don't. Either way, I have to record this journey. I recorded the years and years of heartache and disappointment... every harsh detail. The purpose of this blog was to write my story to share with my children someday (see my sidebar: "Purpose of this blog"). That has to include the miracle that has found its way into our life.
I wish for all women who desire children to have their dreams to come true. For several years, I watched friend after friend (in real life and blog-friends) with infertility finally realize their dream, while I kept waiting. I did not begrudge them. Seeing their pregnancies hurt though, and I fully recognize that feeling. I hate to make anyone feel sadness or pain.
Reading through my posts since the pregnancy, one can see that infertility is still with me, still part of my every day existence. I have not forgotten where I once was, and I never will. Although with this blessing there is a huge guilt that follows me, I know that I will continue to support, love and lift up those who are struggling. And in the end, that's all I can do.
If you are no longer able to read my blog, that is okay. There are no hard feelings. My hope is that you can find those places which are most supportive and helpful to you, and if I'm not one of them anymore, I completely understand. Just know you are always in my thoughts and prayers. I have a huge amount of love for you and compassion for the trial that you bear right now.
I apologize if my pregnancy posts hurts anyone in any way. That thought torments me with every picture I post or pregnancy tidbit I share. In real life, on Facebook, and here. I have posted, deleted, re-posted and edited the heck out of each one, trying to make it okay. Some people find hope in what I write, but other people don't. Either way, I have to record this journey. I recorded the years and years of heartache and disappointment... every harsh detail. The purpose of this blog was to write my story to share with my children someday (see my sidebar: "Purpose of this blog"). That has to include the miracle that has found its way into our life.
I wish for all women who desire children to have their dreams to come true. For several years, I watched friend after friend (in real life and blog-friends) with infertility finally realize their dream, while I kept waiting. I did not begrudge them. Seeing their pregnancies hurt though, and I fully recognize that feeling. I hate to make anyone feel sadness or pain.
Reading through my posts since the pregnancy, one can see that infertility is still with me, still part of my every day existence. I have not forgotten where I once was, and I never will. Although with this blessing there is a huge guilt that follows me, I know that I will continue to support, love and lift up those who are struggling. And in the end, that's all I can do.
If you are no longer able to read my blog, that is okay. There are no hard feelings. My hope is that you can find those places which are most supportive and helpful to you, and if I'm not one of them anymore, I completely understand. Just know you are always in my thoughts and prayers. I have a huge amount of love for you and compassion for the trial that you bear right now.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Mother's Day - Do you know the secret?
Do you know the true origin of Mother's Day?
I do.
I read it last night.
This was not a day to celebrate mothers, as noble a cause as that is.
This day was started in 1870 by women who had lost their sons in the Civil War.
Mother's Day was started by bereaved mothers.
It was a a peaceful call to action for women to protect children everywhere. The real feelings of this day started with pain, loss and grief. The *mothers* were honoring their *children*, and each other.
Now we have the 'Mother's Day' we all know. Somewhere in all the celebration, women who are enduring the original feelings of this holiday... pain, loss grief... are pushed aside by many and told that mothers 'deserve to be honored because they work so hard', while their turn to be recognized has to wait until someone calls them "mom", if that day ever comes.
I acknowledge this day for everything it has become, but also for everything it originally was. The women who started this tradition would not want me to simply prop myself up on pillows and wait for my breakfast in bed. They would also want me to seek out and remember those who are bereaved. Those women suffering the loss of a child (born on earth or in utero). Women grieving the loss of their mother. Women walking through the darkness that is the loss of babies they will never know. That 'reaching out' is what this day was all about.
Today, I honor my mom, my sister, my nieces, my friends, any woman who fulfills the original call to reach out to each other and protect a child. I remember those for whom this day is difficult, and I lift them up. Because that, my friends, is what Mother's Day is really all about.
"I will celebrate with you, if you first mourn with me. It is the combination of the two that lends itself to the true meaning of Mother's Day!"
- pregnancylossribbons.blogspot.com
I do.
I read it last night.
This was not a day to celebrate mothers, as noble a cause as that is.
This day was started in 1870 by women who had lost their sons in the Civil War.
Mother's Day was started by bereaved mothers.
It was a a peaceful call to action for women to protect children everywhere. The real feelings of this day started with pain, loss and grief. The *mothers* were honoring their *children*, and each other.
Now we have the 'Mother's Day' we all know. Somewhere in all the celebration, women who are enduring the original feelings of this holiday... pain, loss grief... are pushed aside by many and told that mothers 'deserve to be honored because they work so hard', while their turn to be recognized has to wait until someone calls them "mom", if that day ever comes.
I acknowledge this day for everything it has become, but also for everything it originally was. The women who started this tradition would not want me to simply prop myself up on pillows and wait for my breakfast in bed. They would also want me to seek out and remember those who are bereaved. Those women suffering the loss of a child (born on earth or in utero). Women grieving the loss of their mother. Women walking through the darkness that is the loss of babies they will never know. That 'reaching out' is what this day was all about.
Today, I honor my mom, my sister, my nieces, my friends, any woman who fulfills the original call to reach out to each other and protect a child. I remember those for whom this day is difficult, and I lift them up. Because that, my friends, is what Mother's Day is really all about.
"I will celebrate with you, if you first mourn with me. It is the combination of the two that lends itself to the true meaning of Mother's Day!"
- pregnancylossribbons.blogspot.com
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Myth: The feelings of Infertility end once you become pregnant
In honor of Infertility Awareness Week, RESOLVE has invited bloggers to bust an infertility myth. The goal of this challenge is to bring together bloggers from the infertility community as well as other bloggers interested in the topic to answer the question: What is the biggest infertility myth and how has it affected your life or the life of your friends and family members?
I am not sure this is the biggest infertility myth, but it is one that impacts me the most at this stage of my life. After nearly 8 years of heartache, tears, treatment and loss, I am finally pregnant. This was the “goal” right? So, is the heartache of infertility over? Because I finally saw those 2 pink lines, am I no longer "infertile"? How does infertility really affect me now?
Myth: The feelings of Infertility end once you become pregnant.
BUSTED!
The feelings of infertility never go away.
Motherhood will never be “normal” for me, or at least what I thought was “normal”.
Each day, I must make a conscious effort not to worry that this miracle will slip away. Even at 18 weeks, I fight the urge to panic at every cramp or twinge. I have nightmares of miscarriage, and have been known to grab the doppler in the middle of the night, just to hear my baby’s precious heartbeat.
I struggle to trust my body. It “didn’t work right” for 7 years, with no explanation as to why, not even from talented and educated doctors. I couldn’t count on my body to know how to become pregnant, and now I must magically trust it to grow, nourish and support this child? This has been a learning process.
Because of infertility, I will be an older mother than I thought I would be. I will have less children than I planned. There is a real possibility my baby will not have a sibling.
Infertility affects everything… even finances. The financial cost to become pregnant could have paid my baby’s first year of college tuition. Maybe two.
So scared by baby showers, I can't bring myself to have one of my own.
I still look at other pregnant women and wonder why some have and some have not. I no longer feel jealousy, but there is still something there. Confusion maybe. Especially when I see other women who have waited longer than I have, been through more treatments, spent more money, and still do not receive what I have been blessed with. It’s all very confusing. I don’t think I will ever understand.
And even with my beautiful baby nestled inside, I still mourn the two I lost.
No, the feelings of infertility never go away.
But in some ways, I am glad for that.
Our baby will never, ever question our love for him or her. There is no doubt this baby was wanted, desired and prayed for. I have literally given my blood, sweat and tears to bring him or her to our family. Even as that date draws nearer when we will get to bring our precious baby home, I have not and will not ever question my yearning to be a mother. In so many ways, I already am one.
Our baby will be blessed by our rock solid marriage. Infertility chipped it and cracked it, and tried to tear it down. We built it back up. It took a lot of work, but our foundation is firm. Two parents who love each other more than life itself… this is something not many babies are blessed with.
I am not sure there is a woman on this earth that has looked at her ultrasound picture as much as I have. I take nothing for granted. I relish in every pregnancy-related moment. I cried with happiness the day I threw up from morning sickness. And again when I felt my uterus had risen. And again when I felt my baby move for the first time.
Infertility has made me more compassionate. Not just toward others with my same struggle, but towards people in general. I understand the heartache of depression. I can empathize with other’s losses. I ask less intrusive questions. I listen better. I try not to assume. Infertility has taught me that sometimes in life there is not always an answer. And that’s okay. We are all just getting by the best we can.
Infertility has taught me how to have faith. Not faith in a certain outcome, but real faith. It has taught me how to pray and how to hope, even when things seem hopeless.
No, the feelings of infertility never go away. It is a life-long disease. It is always there… reminding me of what I lost, showing me what I’ve gained, and leading me through the never-ending process of trying to become a better person.
To find out more on infertility and its meaning go to RESOLVE's website here.
To learn about RESOLVE's Infertility Week visit here.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Happy :)
A friend requested a “belly shot” and I obliged. What a difference maternity clothes and one week of gestation make! Look at that thing! (A large Mexican dinner about 30 minutes prior helped too…) It’s not the best picture of me personally, it had been raining all day and I was pretty exhausted, but what I love about it is the happiness I can see in my eyes.
I am happy.
Every day, I am amazed at where we have come from and where we are. I read about the pregnancy process and then I see those things happen to me. It continues to stun me every time.
I read about the uterus “rising” and being able to feel the top of it by pushing on your abdomen. That is just something I read in a book, right? That wouldn’t happen to me… and then suddenly, it does! One day, I feel it. Out of the blue, just like that. Surprise, gratitude, and crying ensue.
Every week or so (or more often if needed), I get to hear this sound. The most beautiful sound ever made…
I am happy. And every day, I pray for my “infertility sisters” that they will feel this happiness someday soon. I pray for them by name. Even though I know God knows them already, I say their names. No matter what path their happiness comes from, I want it for them. More than words can say.
----------------------
This week is a big one in our world - please keep us in your prayers. We'll update soon!
Now THIS is something I’ll never understand...
Over the past year or so, I began to understand why I had to wait so long to become a mother. This is especially true now that I am pregnant, obviously. :) I can more fully appreciate God’s timing. For some reason, this baby was supposed to come now.
I can say that infertility has taught me so many life lessons and every one of them will make me a better mother than I would have been. The 31-year-old me is much more comfortable in my own skin than the 23-year-old me who first endeavored towards parenthood. (This is not to infer anything about anyone else – I am just speaking for myself.) I can say that my 10-year-marriage is stronger now than our 3-year-marriage was. I can say that the last 7 years were worth it, and if I had to wait longer, that would have been worth it too.
I am beginning to understand the role that infertility has played in my life, and am starting to appreciate it. When I meet my Heavenly Father again someday, I don’t think I will need to ask Him why we had to wait; I think I am already beginning to understand that.
Now THIS is something I’ll never understand…
A woman I know is about my same age. She gets pregnant very easily, and is proud of it. In the last decade or so, she has had four children, all of which have been taken away from her at some point or another and permanently adopted out. Recently, she had a fifth child, and that one too has been placed with a legal guardian.
She is pregnant again, with child number six. Six children, five or six different fathers (I can’t keep track). She joyfully announced this sixth pregnancy, becoming quite defensive if anyone was less than 100% enthusiastic and supportive.
My point is not to bash on this woman (and anyone who does so in the comments will be deleted). My point is to ask why?
I know so many wonderful, caring couples whose number one desire is a child to raise and love. Why can this woman easily have five beautiful, healthy children (not raising a single one of them), while they continue to suffer and wait? And now… she’s pregnant again…
When I meet God, I will ask him this question. Why? I just can’t understand.
I can say that infertility has taught me so many life lessons and every one of them will make me a better mother than I would have been. The 31-year-old me is much more comfortable in my own skin than the 23-year-old me who first endeavored towards parenthood. (This is not to infer anything about anyone else – I am just speaking for myself.) I can say that my 10-year-marriage is stronger now than our 3-year-marriage was. I can say that the last 7 years were worth it, and if I had to wait longer, that would have been worth it too.
I am beginning to understand the role that infertility has played in my life, and am starting to appreciate it. When I meet my Heavenly Father again someday, I don’t think I will need to ask Him why we had to wait; I think I am already beginning to understand that.
Now THIS is something I’ll never understand…
A woman I know is about my same age. She gets pregnant very easily, and is proud of it. In the last decade or so, she has had four children, all of which have been taken away from her at some point or another and permanently adopted out. Recently, she had a fifth child, and that one too has been placed with a legal guardian.
She is pregnant again, with child number six. Six children, five or six different fathers (I can’t keep track). She joyfully announced this sixth pregnancy, becoming quite defensive if anyone was less than 100% enthusiastic and supportive.
My point is not to bash on this woman (and anyone who does so in the comments will be deleted). My point is to ask why?
I know so many wonderful, caring couples whose number one desire is a child to raise and love. Why can this woman easily have five beautiful, healthy children (not raising a single one of them), while they continue to suffer and wait? And now… she’s pregnant again…
When I meet God, I will ask him this question. Why? I just can’t understand.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Infertility
Couples experiencing infertility often receive well-meaning but extremely insensitive "advice." We can all list the most popular ones: "Just relax and you'll get pregnant," or "adopt and you'll get pregnant," or "things happen for a reason". The most painful are from those who think they've got the goods on God's plan, "Maybe God never meant for you to have children."
Who could think for one minute that that was God's plan?
What do I think God meant when he gave me infertility? I think he meant for my husband and I to grow closer, become stronger, love deeper. I think God meant for us to find the fortitude within ourselves to get up every time infertility knocks us down.
I've been placed on the road less traveled, and, like it or not, I'm a better person for it. Clearly, God meant for me to develop more compassion, deeper courage, and greater inner strength on this journey to resolution, and I haven't let Him down.
Frankly, if the truth be known, I think God has singled me out for a special treatment. I think God meant for me to build a thirst for a child so strong and so deep that when that baby is finally placed in my arms, it will be the longest, coolest, most refreshing drink I've ever known.
While I would never choose infertility, I can not deny the joy that awaits me. Yes, one way or another, I will have a baby of my own. And the next time someone wants to offer me unsolicited advice I'll say, "Don't tell me what God meant when he handed me infertility. I already know."
Author unknown
(Modified Somewhat)
Who could think for one minute that that was God's plan?
What do I think God meant when he gave me infertility? I think he meant for my husband and I to grow closer, become stronger, love deeper. I think God meant for us to find the fortitude within ourselves to get up every time infertility knocks us down.
I've been placed on the road less traveled, and, like it or not, I'm a better person for it. Clearly, God meant for me to develop more compassion, deeper courage, and greater inner strength on this journey to resolution, and I haven't let Him down.
Frankly, if the truth be known, I think God has singled me out for a special treatment. I think God meant for me to build a thirst for a child so strong and so deep that when that baby is finally placed in my arms, it will be the longest, coolest, most refreshing drink I've ever known.
While I would never choose infertility, I can not deny the joy that awaits me. Yes, one way or another, I will have a baby of my own. And the next time someone wants to offer me unsolicited advice I'll say, "Don't tell me what God meant when he handed me infertility. I already know."
Author unknown
(Modified Somewhat)
Thursday, February 17, 2011
It’s a Scary World Out There
Tuesday was our last visit to the RE. It was a surreal experience. After Nurse H performed the ultrasound, she looked at me and said, “Well, that’s it!” She gave me a big hug, copied some of my files for my new OB and off we went. As we left, the nurses in the front offered us congratulations and asked us to keep them updated.
And just like that, it was over.
It has been nearly seven years since I first walked through those doors. Even Ryan was shocked to hear that number. How quickly those years added up. We had a lot of detours on the way.
In 2004, I had my first consultation with Dr. S. We had been trying to start our family for almost a year at that point. All the infertility testing was completed and everything looked perfect. Even so, Dr. S cautioned us that statistically we only had a 1% chance of conceiving on our own. “What does he know?” I thought, and I headed back out those doors to ‘relax’ some more and try to get pregnant.
Two years later, I was back. Fine, okay, I give! I’ll take the Clomid. Four rocky cycles later we weren’t any closer than we started. Unable to afford the next level of treatment, we considered laparoscopic surgery, thinking endometriosis might be our issue.
Well, thousands of dollars later we realized... it wasn’t! We spent the next year paying off that surgery and the two years after that completely stagnant. What a miserable time that was.
Finally, it was 2010 and we were back. We now had the means to take the next step. Ryan was getting more involved this time around, which was great. We were a team. We started treatments again with injectable medications this time. We said we would do 5 cycles, and were shocked when we were pregnant after cycle #2. Then came the miscarriage.
Back on the horse, it was the 5th and final cycle that finally put us here today.
During that roller coaster, it was the same awesome nurses that were there the whole way through.
Nurse H did nearly all of my IUIs. We spent most of our time at that office with her. I loved her cute personality and attitude. She was the one who had to tell me in September that we had lost the baby. She let me sit and cry on the phone, offering comforting words that I don’t remember. She was also the one who played my baby’s heartbeat for the first time, an experience I’ll always remember. I never thought another woman would be in the room when I conceived a child, but if someone had to be, I’m glad it was her.
The other nurses were wonderful too. Nurse M did a few of my IUIs. She awesome. Nurse K was the one who called out as we left after the last IUI, “This is the one, Michelle. I can feel it! You’ve waited long enough; it’s your turn!” All of the nurses up front were just great, answering my paranoid questions and being as accommodating as possible, despite the busyness of the practice.
We only saw Dr. S during 2 consultations (2004 and 2010) and for my surgery (2007), which was fine with me. Not seeing Dr. S meant we hadn’t reached the IVF level and, although we would have gone there if need be, I am grateful it wasn’t necessary (fingers crossed).
With all that history, it was weird waving good-bye yesterday and walking out of the office.
Tomorrow is my first appointment with the OB. How am I going to handle that? Sitting in a room with a bunch of bellies? I am like them in physical condition only. Other than that, I couldn’t feel more different.
I have no idea what it’s like to stop birth control, have sex for a while, pee on a stick and head to the OB.
They have no idea what it’s like to have 7 years of heartache, countless negative tests, injections, surgery, and medical procedures.
This next phase is going to be interesting. It’s a scary world out there, but one I am willing to try. ;)
And just like that, it was over.
It has been nearly seven years since I first walked through those doors. Even Ryan was shocked to hear that number. How quickly those years added up. We had a lot of detours on the way.
In 2004, I had my first consultation with Dr. S. We had been trying to start our family for almost a year at that point. All the infertility testing was completed and everything looked perfect. Even so, Dr. S cautioned us that statistically we only had a 1% chance of conceiving on our own. “What does he know?” I thought, and I headed back out those doors to ‘relax’ some more and try to get pregnant.
Two years later, I was back. Fine, okay, I give! I’ll take the Clomid. Four rocky cycles later we weren’t any closer than we started. Unable to afford the next level of treatment, we considered laparoscopic surgery, thinking endometriosis might be our issue.
Well, thousands of dollars later we realized... it wasn’t! We spent the next year paying off that surgery and the two years after that completely stagnant. What a miserable time that was.
Finally, it was 2010 and we were back. We now had the means to take the next step. Ryan was getting more involved this time around, which was great. We were a team. We started treatments again with injectable medications this time. We said we would do 5 cycles, and were shocked when we were pregnant after cycle #2. Then came the miscarriage.
Back on the horse, it was the 5th and final cycle that finally put us here today.
During that roller coaster, it was the same awesome nurses that were there the whole way through.
Nurse H did nearly all of my IUIs. We spent most of our time at that office with her. I loved her cute personality and attitude. She was the one who had to tell me in September that we had lost the baby. She let me sit and cry on the phone, offering comforting words that I don’t remember. She was also the one who played my baby’s heartbeat for the first time, an experience I’ll always remember. I never thought another woman would be in the room when I conceived a child, but if someone had to be, I’m glad it was her.
The other nurses were wonderful too. Nurse M did a few of my IUIs. She awesome. Nurse K was the one who called out as we left after the last IUI, “This is the one, Michelle. I can feel it! You’ve waited long enough; it’s your turn!” All of the nurses up front were just great, answering my paranoid questions and being as accommodating as possible, despite the busyness of the practice.
We only saw Dr. S during 2 consultations (2004 and 2010) and for my surgery (2007), which was fine with me. Not seeing Dr. S meant we hadn’t reached the IVF level and, although we would have gone there if need be, I am grateful it wasn’t necessary (fingers crossed).
With all that history, it was weird waving good-bye yesterday and walking out of the office.
Tomorrow is my first appointment with the OB. How am I going to handle that? Sitting in a room with a bunch of bellies? I am like them in physical condition only. Other than that, I couldn’t feel more different.
I have no idea what it’s like to stop birth control, have sex for a while, pee on a stick and head to the OB.
They have no idea what it’s like to have 7 years of heartache, countless negative tests, injections, surgery, and medical procedures.
This next phase is going to be interesting. It’s a scary world out there, but one I am willing to try. ;)
Saturday, February 12, 2011
I don’t belong here…
I joined one of those mommy-to-be message boards. I needed an outlet during all these weeks of “secrecy”. Although it has been helpful hearing other people’s experiences and learning what I am feeling physically is “normal”, I have come to realize I just don’t belong.
The women on the board are very sweet. In their defense, if I didn’t spend years giving blood, sweat and tears for this pregnancy, I could imagine myself saying some of the same things they do. Maybe…
But I just can’t help feeling like a few of them will never, ever fully comprehend the beautiful gift they have been given. Many of them received this gift without any effort on their part. Some of them received the gift without even desiring it.
I think it’s true... Infertility changes who you are forever. It never goes away.
The women on the board are very sweet. In their defense, if I didn’t spend years giving blood, sweat and tears for this pregnancy, I could imagine myself saying some of the same things they do. Maybe…
But I just can’t help feeling like a few of them will never, ever fully comprehend the beautiful gift they have been given. Many of them received this gift without any effort on their part. Some of them received the gift without even desiring it.
I think it’s true... Infertility changes who you are forever. It never goes away.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Laura Bush - One of Us
Apparently, former first lady, Laura Bush, dealt with infertility as well. I found a quote from her on Hillary's blog and I had to investigate further, as I knew no one could make a statement like that without experiencing infertility first-hand.
Politics aside, I always felt Laura Bush was a graceful, strong woman. I love her even more after reading this excerpt from her book,
"For some years now, the wedding invitations that had once crowded the mailbox had been replaced by shower invites and pink-or-blue-ribboned baby announcements. I bought onesies or rattles, wrapped them in yellow paper, and delivered them to friends. I had done it with a happy wistfulness, believing that someday my time, my baby, would come. George and I had hoped that I would be pregnant by the end of his congressional run. Then we hoped it would be by the time his own father announced his presidential run, then by the presidential primaries, the convention, the general election. But each milestone came and went. The calendar advanced, and there was no baby.
The English language lacks the words to mourn an absence. For the loss of a parent, grandparent, spouse, child or friend, we have all manner of words and phrases, some helpful some not. Still we are conditioned to say something, even if it is only “I’m sorry for your loss.” But for an absence, for someone who was never there at all, we are wordless to capture that particular emptiness. For those who deeply want children and are denied them, those missing babies hover like silent ephemeral shadows over their lives. Who can describe the feel of a tiny hand that is never held?"
Politics aside, I always felt Laura Bush was a graceful, strong woman. I love her even more after reading this excerpt from her book,
"For some years now, the wedding invitations that had once crowded the mailbox had been replaced by shower invites and pink-or-blue-ribboned baby announcements. I bought onesies or rattles, wrapped them in yellow paper, and delivered them to friends. I had done it with a happy wistfulness, believing that someday my time, my baby, would come. George and I had hoped that I would be pregnant by the end of his congressional run. Then we hoped it would be by the time his own father announced his presidential run, then by the presidential primaries, the convention, the general election. But each milestone came and went. The calendar advanced, and there was no baby.
The English language lacks the words to mourn an absence. For the loss of a parent, grandparent, spouse, child or friend, we have all manner of words and phrases, some helpful some not. Still we are conditioned to say something, even if it is only “I’m sorry for your loss.” But for an absence, for someone who was never there at all, we are wordless to capture that particular emptiness. For those who deeply want children and are denied them, those missing babies hover like silent ephemeral shadows over their lives. Who can describe the feel of a tiny hand that is never held?"
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
And so here we are...
It was originally my intention to delay blog postings about my treatments until there was a final result. Over the past few days, I have learned that many people in my life are already aware of the timing of our treatments due to word of mouth.
We have a huge network of supportive family and friends. Since the information is out there now, there is no reason to delay my posts anymore. As you can see, I have gone ahead with posting our journey up until now.
In a couple weeks, we should find out if this cycle worked. All I ask is please respect our privacy when it comes to revealing the results. Whether positive or negative, I want time to adjust, celebrate or mourn. Please do not ask me if I know the results or what they might be. Please let me share them in my own time.
I do appreciate all the support. When I first started in this journey, I felt completely alone. Although the loneliness of infertility is still there, it is eased by an incredibly supportive husband and the (sometime spoken / sometimes silent) good wishes and sincere prayers of family, friends, ward members, associates, acquaintances, blog friends and complete strangers. For that I thank you.
We have a huge network of supportive family and friends. Since the information is out there now, there is no reason to delay my posts anymore. As you can see, I have gone ahead with posting our journey up until now.
In a couple weeks, we should find out if this cycle worked. All I ask is please respect our privacy when it comes to revealing the results. Whether positive or negative, I want time to adjust, celebrate or mourn. Please do not ask me if I know the results or what they might be. Please let me share them in my own time.
I do appreciate all the support. When I first started in this journey, I felt completely alone. Although the loneliness of infertility is still there, it is eased by an incredibly supportive husband and the (sometime spoken / sometimes silent) good wishes and sincere prayers of family, friends, ward members, associates, acquaintances, blog friends and complete strangers. For that I thank you.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Thank You and a Confession
Thank you to those who have kept Ryan's job in your prayers. I have been contacted by several friends who have done so, and we have felt it. It appears his job is safe for now. There is a chance he could be in danger again in December, but we are taking it one month at a time and, generally, we feel a sense of comfort about the whole issue.
Which means we are still set for treatments sometime soon. Game on!
Now to my confession...
I have a lot of blog readers who I know personally. I have readers that I haven't met in person, but I've conversed with online. I'm sure there are other readers who "blog stalk" me (much like I do in some cases), reading along but not making contact with me. I appreciate anyone who stops by and lends support, even if it is not expressed.
As treatment time approaches, I have thought about how to record those upcoming experiences on here. I started this blog just to record my journey with infertility, in hopes of sharing it with my child someday. It grew into something more.
Now, I feel a responsibility to people who have committed to traveling this journey with me. I feel like I owe it to them to share my treatment experiences.
On the other hand, I really don't want people to know the exact day or moment I find out if a treatment cycle was successful. If I am unsuccessful, I might want some time to deal with that privately. If I become pregnant, it would be nice to share that moment with my husband before the verdict is shared with the masses.
Bottom line, I don't want people in my personal life to look at me on a particular day and know that was the day I would test. I just want some time to adjust to the outcome first on my own.
Because of all this, I have made the decision to keep my experiences during a treatment cycle private for a while. I will still record events as they happen, but I will post them on a delay. Once there is an outcome to a particular cycle, I will post the rest of that cycle's blog entries, so that you can still follow the journey. I really think this plan will work well for me.
I do feel like I am not being fair to all those ladies who put everything out there. It is only right that I do that too. And if my blog was a secret to those who see me on a regular basis, maybe I would. But I want to share everything with those awesome people I love. So I will, albeit a bit slower than in the past.
I hope this all makes sense.
UPDATE: Yeah, well that plan didn't work out after all!! See this blog posting.
Which means we are still set for treatments sometime soon. Game on!
Now to my confession...
I have a lot of blog readers who I know personally. I have readers that I haven't met in person, but I've conversed with online. I'm sure there are other readers who "blog stalk" me (much like I do in some cases), reading along but not making contact with me. I appreciate anyone who stops by and lends support, even if it is not expressed.
As treatment time approaches, I have thought about how to record those upcoming experiences on here. I started this blog just to record my journey with infertility, in hopes of sharing it with my child someday. It grew into something more.
Now, I feel a responsibility to people who have committed to traveling this journey with me. I feel like I owe it to them to share my treatment experiences.
On the other hand, I really don't want people to know the exact day or moment I find out if a treatment cycle was successful. If I am unsuccessful, I might want some time to deal with that privately. If I become pregnant, it would be nice to share that moment with my husband before the verdict is shared with the masses.
Bottom line, I don't want people in my personal life to look at me on a particular day and know that was the day I would test. I just want some time to adjust to the outcome first on my own.
Because of all this, I have made the decision to keep my experiences during a treatment cycle private for a while. I will still record events as they happen, but I will post them on a delay. Once there is an outcome to a particular cycle, I will post the rest of that cycle's blog entries, so that you can still follow the journey. I really think this plan will work well for me.
I do feel like I am not being fair to all those ladies who put everything out there. It is only right that I do that too. And if my blog was a secret to those who see me on a regular basis, maybe I would. But I want to share everything with those awesome people I love. So I will, albeit a bit slower than in the past.
I hope this all makes sense.
UPDATE: Yeah, well that plan didn't work out after all!! See this blog posting.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Resource
I recently found a great resource for infertility and adoption information. This website includes a weekly radio show in which the topics are evenly divided between infertility treatments and adoption. I have listened to several past shows so far, and have learned a lot. She often interviews authors, REs, attorneys, etc about a variety of issues.
Creating a Family
Creating a Family
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Julie and Julia
Quick warning: If you haven't seen the movie, you might not want to read this post. I don't give too much away, but I don't want to be a spoiler.
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Before seeing this movie, I had no idea that Julia Child never had children, much less experienced infertility.
Towards the beginning of the movie, Julia and her husband are walking the streets of France. A woman walks by pushing a baby carriage. Those of us who have experienced infertility, or who knows someone who has, will recognize the longing look Julia gives the carriage as it passes by.
That exchange happened in a fraction of a second. But in that second, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Julia never had children. Julia couldn't have children.
I quickly looked at Ryan, shocked by the revelation. Just like a man (and I say that lovingly), he hadn't noticed the brief interaction between a barren woman and her lost dream. But I had.
This changed the entire outlook of the movie for me. As I watched Julia turn to cooking and food, and even writing as outlets, I recognized myself in her eyes. Trying to figure out your place in the world, after you've lost the role you've always wanted.
There is one scene in which Julia receives a letter from her newly married sister. Her newly married, and now pregnant, sister. Reading about her sister's pregnancy, Julia falls apart. Her husband tries to catch her, pressing her head to his chest as she cries. I looked at Ryan, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I felt like he could truly see inside my heart. Finally, he knew how I have felt over and over and over again.
I truly feel that this movie was an accurate demonstration of infertility, at least through my eyes. The determination of one woman to live through the newness of each day, and the willingness to experience a life that looks different than she ever thought it would. It was inspiring.
Oh, and speaking of inspiration, I really, really want to visit France someday too. :) Are you reading this, Ryan??? (hint, hint)
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Before seeing this movie, I had no idea that Julia Child never had children, much less experienced infertility.
Towards the beginning of the movie, Julia and her husband are walking the streets of France. A woman walks by pushing a baby carriage. Those of us who have experienced infertility, or who knows someone who has, will recognize the longing look Julia gives the carriage as it passes by.
That exchange happened in a fraction of a second. But in that second, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Julia never had children. Julia couldn't have children.
I quickly looked at Ryan, shocked by the revelation. Just like a man (and I say that lovingly), he hadn't noticed the brief interaction between a barren woman and her lost dream. But I had.
This changed the entire outlook of the movie for me. As I watched Julia turn to cooking and food, and even writing as outlets, I recognized myself in her eyes. Trying to figure out your place in the world, after you've lost the role you've always wanted.
There is one scene in which Julia receives a letter from her newly married sister. Her newly married, and now pregnant, sister. Reading about her sister's pregnancy, Julia falls apart. Her husband tries to catch her, pressing her head to his chest as she cries. I looked at Ryan, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I felt like he could truly see inside my heart. Finally, he knew how I have felt over and over and over again.
I truly feel that this movie was an accurate demonstration of infertility, at least through my eyes. The determination of one woman to live through the newness of each day, and the willingness to experience a life that looks different than she ever thought it would. It was inspiring.
Oh, and speaking of inspiration, I really, really want to visit France someday too. :) Are you reading this, Ryan??? (hint, hint)
Friday, February 20, 2009
Infertility Etiquette
The following is the best article I've ever read on how to deal with an infertile, emotional, hard-to-please friend... like me. ;) I think there are some good things in here that I wish I could find the words to say...
I am so lucky to have the friends I have, and I am grateful for them in my life, especially during this difficult time. I hope to be as good a friend to you during the times you struggle!!!
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Infertility Etiquette
By Vita Alligood
Chances are, you know someone who is struggling with infertility. More than five million people of childbearing age in the United States experience infertility. Yet, as a society, we are woefully uninformed about how to best provide emotional support for our loved ones during this painful time.
Infertility is, indeed, a very painful struggle. The pain is similar to the grief over losing a loved one, but it is unique because it is a recurring grief. When a loved one dies, he isn't coming back. There is no hope that he will come back from the dead. You must work through the stages of grief, accept that you will never see this person again, and move on with your life.
The grief of infertility is not so cut and dry. Infertile people grieve the loss of the baby that they may never know. They grieve the loss of that baby who would have had mommy's nose and daddy's eyes. But, each month, there is the hope that maybe that baby will be conceived after all. No matter how hard they try to prepare themselves for bad news, they still hope that this month will be different. Then, the bad news comes again, and the grief washes over the infertile couple anew. This process happens month after month, year after year. It is like having a deep cut that keeps getting opened right when it starts to heal.
As the couple moves into infertility treatments, the pain increases while the bank account depletes. Most infertility treatments involve using hormones, which alter the user's moods. (That statement is like calling a lion a cat-my husband would tell you that the side effect is insanity!) The tests are invasive and embarrassing to both parties, and you feel like the doctor has taken over your bedroom. And for all of this discomfort, you pay a lot of money. Infertility treatments are expensive, and most insurance companies do not cover the costs. So, in addition to the pain of not conceiving a baby each month, the couple pays out anywhere from $300 to five figures, depending upon the treatment used.
A couple will eventually resolve the infertility problem in one of three ways:
They will eventually conceive a baby.
They will stop the infertility treatments and choose to live without children.
They will find an alternative way to parent, such as by adopting a child or becoming a foster parent.
Reaching a resolution can take years, so your infertile loved ones need your emotional support during this journey. Most people don't know what to say, so they wind up saying the wrong thing, which only makes the journey so much harder for their loved ones. Knowing what not to say is half of the battle to providing support.
Don't Tell Them to Relax
Everyone knows someone who had trouble conceiving but then finally became pregnant once she "relaxed." Couples who are able to conceive after a few months of "relaxing" are not infertile. By definition, a couple is not diagnosed as "infertile" until they have tried unsuccessfully to become pregnant for a full year. In fact, most infertility specialists will not treat a couple for infertility until they have tried to become pregnant for a year. This year weeds out the people who aren't infertile but just need to "relax." Those that remain are truly infertile.
Comments such as "just relax" or "try going on a cruise" create even more stress for the infertile couple, particularly the woman. The woman feels like she is doing something wrong when, in fact, there is a good chance that there is a physical problem preventing her from becoming pregnant.
These comments can also reach the point of absurdity. As a couple, my husband and I underwent two surgeries, numerous inseminations, hormone treatments, and four years of poking and prodding by doctors. Yet, people still continued to say things like, "If you just relaxed on a cruise . . ." Infertility is a diagnosable medical problem that must be treated by a doctor, and even with treatment, many couples will NEVER successfully conceive a child. Relaxation itself does not cure medical infertility.
Don't Minimize the Problem
Failure to conceive a baby is a very painful journey. Infertile couples are surrounded by families with children. These couples watch their friends give birth to two or three children, and they watch those children grow while the couple goes home to the silence of an empty house. These couples see all of the joy that a child brings into someone's life, and they feel the emptiness of not being able to experience the same joy.
Comments like, "Just enjoy being able to sleep late . . . .travel . . etc.," do not offer comfort. Instead, these comments make infertile people feel like you are minimizing their pain. You wouldn't tell somebody whose parent just died to be thankful that he no longer has to buy Father's Day or Mother's Day cards. Losing that one obligation doesn't even begin to compensate for the incredible loss of losing a parent. In the same vein, being able to sleep late or travel does not provide comfort to somebody who desperately wants a child.
Don't Say There Are Worse Things That Could Happen
Along the same lines, don't tell your friend that there are worse things that she could be going through. Who is the final authority on what is the "worst" thing that could happen to someone? Is it going through a divorce? Watching a loved one die? Getting raped? Losing a job?
Different people react to different life experiences in different ways. To someone who has trained his whole life for the Olympics, the "worst" thing might be experiencing an injury the week before the event. To someone who has walked away from her career to become a stay-at-home wife for 40 years, watching her husband leave her for a younger woman might be the "worst" thing. And, to a woman whose sole goal in life has been to love and nurture a child, infertility may indeed be the "worst" thing that could happen.
People wouldn't dream of telling someone whose parent just died, "It could be worse: both of your parents could be dead." Such a comment would be considered cruel rather than comforting. In the same vein, don't tell your friend that she could be going through worse things than infertility.
Don't Say They Aren't Meant to Be Parents
One of the cruelest things anyone ever said to me is, "Maybe God doesn't intend for you to be a mother." How incredibly insensitive to imply that I would be such a bad mother that God felt the need to divinely sterilize me. If God were in the business of divinely sterilizing women, don't you think he would prevent the pregnancies that end in abortions? Or wouldn't he sterilize the women who wind up neglecting and abusing their children? Even if you aren't religious, the "maybe it's not meant to be" comments are not comforting. Infertility is a medical condition, not a punishment from God or Mother Nature.
Don't Ask Why They Aren't Trying IVF
In vitro fertilization (IVF) is a method in which the woman harvests multiple eggs, which are then combined with the man's sperm in a petri dish. This is the method that can produce multiple births. People frequently ask, "Why don't you just try IVF?" in the same casual tone they would use to ask, "Why don't you try shopping at another store?"
There are many reasons why a couple would choose not to pursue this option. Here are a few of them.
IVF is Expensive with Low Odds
One cycle of IVF is very expensive. With all of the hype in the news, many people assume that IVF is a sure thing when, in fact, the odds of success for each cycle are low. Most couples cannot afford to try for one month, much less for multiple times. Considering that it also costs a significant amount of money to adopt a baby, many couples opt for the "sure thing" rather then risking their money on much lower odds.
IVF is Physically Taxing
Undergoing IVF treatments is very rigorous. The woman must inject shots into her thigh daily to cause her ovaries to superovulate. The drugs used are very taxing on the woman, and they can cause her to be become extremely emotional.
IVF Raises Ethical Issues
Ironically, couples who undergo IVF to become parents may have to selectively abort one or more fetuses if multiple eggs are fertilized. Many couples cannot bring themselves to abort a baby when they have worked so hard to become parents. If the couple chooses not to selectively abort, they run the risk of multiple births.
Don't Offer Unsolicited Opinions If They Are Trying IVF
On the flip side of the coin, don't offer unsolicited advice to your friends who do choose to try IVF. For many couples, IVF is the only way they will ever give birth to a baby. This is a huge decision for them to make, for all of the reasons I outlined above.
If the couple has resolved any ethical issues, don't muddy the waters. IVF is a gray area in many ethical circles, and many of our moral leaders don't yet know how to answer the ethical questions that have arisen from this new technology. If the couple has resolved these issues already, you only make it harder by raising the ethical questions again. Respect their decision, and offer your support. If you can't offer your support due to ethical differences of opinion, then say nothing.
A couple who chooses the IVF route has a hard, expensive road ahead, and they need your support more than ever. The hormones are no cakewalk, and the financial cost is enormous. Your friend would not be going this route if there were an easier way, and the fact that she is willing to endure so much is further proof of how much she truly wants to parent a child. The hormones will make her more emotional, so offer her your support and keep your questions to yourself.
Don't Play Doctor
Once your infertile friends are under a doctor's care, the doctor will run them through numerous tests to determine why they aren't able to conceive. There a numerous reasons that a couple may not be able to conceive. Here are a few of them:
Blocked fallopian tubes
Cysts
Endometriosis
Low hormone levels
Low "normal form" sperm count
Low progesterone level
Low sperm count
Low sperm motility
Thin uterine walls
Unexplained (I added this one!)
Infertility is a complicated problem to diagnose, and reading an article or book on infertility will not make you an "expert" on the subject. Let your friends work with their doctor to diagnose and treat the problem. Your friends probably already know more about the causes and solutions of infertility than you will ever know.
You may feel like you are being helpful by reading up on infertility, and there is nothing wrong with learning more about the subject. The problem comes when you try to "play doctor" with your friends. They already have a doctor with years of experience in diagnosing and treating the problem. They need to work with and trust their doctor to treat the problem. You only complicate the issue when you throw out other ideas that you have read about. The doctor knows more about the causes and solutions; let your friends work with their doctor to solve the problem.
Don't Be Crude
It is appalling that I even have to include this paragraph, but some of you need to hear this-Don't make crude jokes about your friend's vulnerable position. Crude comments like "I'll donate the sperm" or "Make sure the doctor uses your sperm for the insemination" are not funny, and they only irritate your friends.
Don't Complain About Your Pregnancy
This message is for pregnant women-Just being around you is painful for your infertile friends. Seeing your belly grow is a constant reminder of what your infertile friend cannot have. Unless an infertile women plans to spend her life in a cave, she has to find a way to interact with pregnant women. However, there are things you can do as her friend to make it easier.
The number one rule is DON'T COMPLAIN ABOUT YOUR PREGNANCY. I understand from my friends that, when you are pregnant, your hormones are going crazy and you experience a lot of discomfort, such as queasiness, stretch marks, and fatigue. You have every right to vent about the discomforts to any one else in your life, but don't put your infertile friend in the position of comforting you.
Your infertile friend would give anything to experience the discomforts you are enduring because those discomforts come from a baby growing inside of you. When I heard a pregnant woman complain about morning sickness, I would think, "I'd gladly throw up for nine straight months if it meant I could have a baby." When a pregnant woman would complain about her weight gain, I would think, "I would cut off my arm if I could be in your shoes."
I managed to go to baby showers and hospitals to welcome my friends' new babies, but it was hard. Without exception, it was hard. Stay sensitive to your infertile friend's emotions, and give her the leeway that she needs to be happy for you while she cries for herself. If she can't bring herself to hold your new baby, give her time. She isn't rejecting you or your new baby; she is just trying to work her way through her pain to show sincere joy for you. The fact that she is willing to endure such pain in order to celebrate your new baby with you speaks volumes about how much your friendship means to her.
Don't Treat Them Like They Are Ignorant
For some reason, some people seem to think that infertility causes a person to become unrealistic about the responsibilities of parenthood. I don't follow the logic, but several people told me that I wouldn't ache for a baby so much if I appreciated how much responsibility was involved in parenting.
Let's face it-no one can fully appreciate the responsibilities involved in parenting until they are, themselves, parents. That is true whether you successfully conceived after one month or after 10 years. The length of time you spend waiting for that baby does not factor in to your appreciation of responsibility. If anything, people who have been trying to become pregnant longer have had more time to think about those responsibilities. They have also probably been around lots of babies as their friends started their families.
Perhaps part of what fuels this perception is that infertile couples have a longer time to "dream" about what being a parent will be like. Like every other couple, we have our fantasies-my child will sleep through the night, would never have a tantrum in public, and will always eat his vegetables. Let us have our fantasies. Those fantasies are some of the few parent-to-be perks that we have-let us have them. You can give us your knowing looks when we discover the truth later.
Don't Gossip About Your Friend's Condition
Infertility treatments are very private and embarrassing, which is why many couples choose to undergo these treatments in secret. Men especially are very sensitive to letting people know about infertility testing, such as sperm counts. Gossiping about infertility is not usually done in a malicious manner. The gossipers are usually well-meaning people who are only trying to find out more about infertility so they can help their loved ones.
Regardless of why you are sharing this information with someone else, it hurts and embarrasses your friend to find out that Madge the bank teller knows what your husband's sperm count is and when your next period is expected. Infertility is something that should be kept as private as your friend wants to keep it. Respect your friend's privacy, and don't share any information that your friend hasn't authorized.
Don't Push Adoption (Yet)
Adoption is a wonderful way for infertile people to become parents. (As an adoptive parent, I can fully vouch for this!!) However, the couple needs to work through many issues before they will be ready to make an adoption decision. Before they can make the decision to love a "stranger's baby," they must first grieve the loss of that baby with Daddy's eyes and Mommy's nose. Adoption social workers recognize the importance of the grieving process. When my husband and I went for our initial adoption interview, we expected the first question to be, "Why do you want to adopt a baby?" Instead, the question was, "Have you grieved the loss of your biological child yet?" Our social worker emphasized how important it is to shut one door before you open another.
You do, indeed, need to grieve this loss before you are ready to start the adoption process. The adoption process is very long and expensive, and it is not an easy road. So, the couple needs to be very sure that they can let go of the hope of a biological child and that they can love an adopted baby. This takes time, and some couples are never able to reach this point. If your friend cannot love a baby that isn't her "own," then adoption isn't the right decision for her, and it is certainly not what is best for the baby.
Mentioning adoption in passing can be a comfort to some couples. (The only words that ever offered me comfort were from my sister, who said, "Whether through pregnancy or adoption, you will be a mother one day.") However, "pushing" the issue can frustrate your friend. So, mention the idea in passing if it seems appropriate, and then drop it. When your friend is ready to talk about adoption, she will raise the issue herself.
So, what can you say to your infertile friends? Unless you say "I am giving you this baby," there is nothing you can say that will erase their pain. So, take that pressure off of yourself. It isn't your job to erase their pain, but there is a lot you can do to lesson the load. Here are a few ideas.
Let Them Know That You Care
The best thing you can do is let your infertile friends know that you care. Send them cards. Let them cry on your shoulder. If they are religious, let them know you are praying for them. Offer the same support you would offer a friend who has lost a loved one. Just knowing they can count on you to be there for them lightens the load and lets them know that they aren't going through this alone.
Remember Them on Mother's Day
With all of the activity on Mother's Day, people tend to forget about women who cannot become mothers. Mother's Day is an incredibly painful time for infertile women. You cannot get away from it-There are ads on the TV, posters at the stores, church sermons devoted to celebrating motherhood, and all of the plans for celebrating with your own mother and mother-in-law.
Mother's Day is an important celebration and one that I relish now that I am a mother. However, it was very painful while I was waiting for my baby. Remember your infertile friends on Mother's Day, and send them a card to let them know you are thinking of them. They will appreciate knowing that you haven't "forgotten" them.
Support Their Decision to Stop Treatments
No couple can endure infertility treatments forever. At some point, they will stop. This is an agonizing decision to make, and it involves even more grief. Even if the couple chooses to adopt a baby, they must still first grieve the loss of that baby who would have had mommy's nose and daddy's eyes.
Once the couple has made the decision to stop treatments, support their decision. Don't encourage them to try again, and don't discourage them from adopting, if that is their choice. Once the couple has reached resolution (whether to live without children, adopt a child, or become foster parents), they can finally put that chapter of their lives behind them. Don't try to open that chapter again.
http://www.resolve.org/site/PageServer?pagename=lrn_ffaf_ie
I am so lucky to have the friends I have, and I am grateful for them in my life, especially during this difficult time. I hope to be as good a friend to you during the times you struggle!!!
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Infertility Etiquette
By Vita Alligood
Chances are, you know someone who is struggling with infertility. More than five million people of childbearing age in the United States experience infertility. Yet, as a society, we are woefully uninformed about how to best provide emotional support for our loved ones during this painful time.
Infertility is, indeed, a very painful struggle. The pain is similar to the grief over losing a loved one, but it is unique because it is a recurring grief. When a loved one dies, he isn't coming back. There is no hope that he will come back from the dead. You must work through the stages of grief, accept that you will never see this person again, and move on with your life.
The grief of infertility is not so cut and dry. Infertile people grieve the loss of the baby that they may never know. They grieve the loss of that baby who would have had mommy's nose and daddy's eyes. But, each month, there is the hope that maybe that baby will be conceived after all. No matter how hard they try to prepare themselves for bad news, they still hope that this month will be different. Then, the bad news comes again, and the grief washes over the infertile couple anew. This process happens month after month, year after year. It is like having a deep cut that keeps getting opened right when it starts to heal.
As the couple moves into infertility treatments, the pain increases while the bank account depletes. Most infertility treatments involve using hormones, which alter the user's moods. (That statement is like calling a lion a cat-my husband would tell you that the side effect is insanity!) The tests are invasive and embarrassing to both parties, and you feel like the doctor has taken over your bedroom. And for all of this discomfort, you pay a lot of money. Infertility treatments are expensive, and most insurance companies do not cover the costs. So, in addition to the pain of not conceiving a baby each month, the couple pays out anywhere from $300 to five figures, depending upon the treatment used.
A couple will eventually resolve the infertility problem in one of three ways:
They will eventually conceive a baby.
They will stop the infertility treatments and choose to live without children.
They will find an alternative way to parent, such as by adopting a child or becoming a foster parent.
Reaching a resolution can take years, so your infertile loved ones need your emotional support during this journey. Most people don't know what to say, so they wind up saying the wrong thing, which only makes the journey so much harder for their loved ones. Knowing what not to say is half of the battle to providing support.
Don't Tell Them to Relax
Everyone knows someone who had trouble conceiving but then finally became pregnant once she "relaxed." Couples who are able to conceive after a few months of "relaxing" are not infertile. By definition, a couple is not diagnosed as "infertile" until they have tried unsuccessfully to become pregnant for a full year. In fact, most infertility specialists will not treat a couple for infertility until they have tried to become pregnant for a year. This year weeds out the people who aren't infertile but just need to "relax." Those that remain are truly infertile.
Comments such as "just relax" or "try going on a cruise" create even more stress for the infertile couple, particularly the woman. The woman feels like she is doing something wrong when, in fact, there is a good chance that there is a physical problem preventing her from becoming pregnant.
These comments can also reach the point of absurdity. As a couple, my husband and I underwent two surgeries, numerous inseminations, hormone treatments, and four years of poking and prodding by doctors. Yet, people still continued to say things like, "If you just relaxed on a cruise . . ." Infertility is a diagnosable medical problem that must be treated by a doctor, and even with treatment, many couples will NEVER successfully conceive a child. Relaxation itself does not cure medical infertility.
Don't Minimize the Problem
Failure to conceive a baby is a very painful journey. Infertile couples are surrounded by families with children. These couples watch their friends give birth to two or three children, and they watch those children grow while the couple goes home to the silence of an empty house. These couples see all of the joy that a child brings into someone's life, and they feel the emptiness of not being able to experience the same joy.
Comments like, "Just enjoy being able to sleep late . . . .travel . . etc.," do not offer comfort. Instead, these comments make infertile people feel like you are minimizing their pain. You wouldn't tell somebody whose parent just died to be thankful that he no longer has to buy Father's Day or Mother's Day cards. Losing that one obligation doesn't even begin to compensate for the incredible loss of losing a parent. In the same vein, being able to sleep late or travel does not provide comfort to somebody who desperately wants a child.
Don't Say There Are Worse Things That Could Happen
Along the same lines, don't tell your friend that there are worse things that she could be going through. Who is the final authority on what is the "worst" thing that could happen to someone? Is it going through a divorce? Watching a loved one die? Getting raped? Losing a job?
Different people react to different life experiences in different ways. To someone who has trained his whole life for the Olympics, the "worst" thing might be experiencing an injury the week before the event. To someone who has walked away from her career to become a stay-at-home wife for 40 years, watching her husband leave her for a younger woman might be the "worst" thing. And, to a woman whose sole goal in life has been to love and nurture a child, infertility may indeed be the "worst" thing that could happen.
People wouldn't dream of telling someone whose parent just died, "It could be worse: both of your parents could be dead." Such a comment would be considered cruel rather than comforting. In the same vein, don't tell your friend that she could be going through worse things than infertility.
Don't Say They Aren't Meant to Be Parents
One of the cruelest things anyone ever said to me is, "Maybe God doesn't intend for you to be a mother." How incredibly insensitive to imply that I would be such a bad mother that God felt the need to divinely sterilize me. If God were in the business of divinely sterilizing women, don't you think he would prevent the pregnancies that end in abortions? Or wouldn't he sterilize the women who wind up neglecting and abusing their children? Even if you aren't religious, the "maybe it's not meant to be" comments are not comforting. Infertility is a medical condition, not a punishment from God or Mother Nature.
Don't Ask Why They Aren't Trying IVF
In vitro fertilization (IVF) is a method in which the woman harvests multiple eggs, which are then combined with the man's sperm in a petri dish. This is the method that can produce multiple births. People frequently ask, "Why don't you just try IVF?" in the same casual tone they would use to ask, "Why don't you try shopping at another store?"
There are many reasons why a couple would choose not to pursue this option. Here are a few of them.
IVF is Expensive with Low Odds
One cycle of IVF is very expensive. With all of the hype in the news, many people assume that IVF is a sure thing when, in fact, the odds of success for each cycle are low. Most couples cannot afford to try for one month, much less for multiple times. Considering that it also costs a significant amount of money to adopt a baby, many couples opt for the "sure thing" rather then risking their money on much lower odds.
IVF is Physically Taxing
Undergoing IVF treatments is very rigorous. The woman must inject shots into her thigh daily to cause her ovaries to superovulate. The drugs used are very taxing on the woman, and they can cause her to be become extremely emotional.
IVF Raises Ethical Issues
Ironically, couples who undergo IVF to become parents may have to selectively abort one or more fetuses if multiple eggs are fertilized. Many couples cannot bring themselves to abort a baby when they have worked so hard to become parents. If the couple chooses not to selectively abort, they run the risk of multiple births.
Don't Offer Unsolicited Opinions If They Are Trying IVF
On the flip side of the coin, don't offer unsolicited advice to your friends who do choose to try IVF. For many couples, IVF is the only way they will ever give birth to a baby. This is a huge decision for them to make, for all of the reasons I outlined above.
If the couple has resolved any ethical issues, don't muddy the waters. IVF is a gray area in many ethical circles, and many of our moral leaders don't yet know how to answer the ethical questions that have arisen from this new technology. If the couple has resolved these issues already, you only make it harder by raising the ethical questions again. Respect their decision, and offer your support. If you can't offer your support due to ethical differences of opinion, then say nothing.
A couple who chooses the IVF route has a hard, expensive road ahead, and they need your support more than ever. The hormones are no cakewalk, and the financial cost is enormous. Your friend would not be going this route if there were an easier way, and the fact that she is willing to endure so much is further proof of how much she truly wants to parent a child. The hormones will make her more emotional, so offer her your support and keep your questions to yourself.
Don't Play Doctor
Once your infertile friends are under a doctor's care, the doctor will run them through numerous tests to determine why they aren't able to conceive. There a numerous reasons that a couple may not be able to conceive. Here are a few of them:
Blocked fallopian tubes
Cysts
Endometriosis
Low hormone levels
Low "normal form" sperm count
Low progesterone level
Low sperm count
Low sperm motility
Thin uterine walls
Unexplained (I added this one!)
Infertility is a complicated problem to diagnose, and reading an article or book on infertility will not make you an "expert" on the subject. Let your friends work with their doctor to diagnose and treat the problem. Your friends probably already know more about the causes and solutions of infertility than you will ever know.
You may feel like you are being helpful by reading up on infertility, and there is nothing wrong with learning more about the subject. The problem comes when you try to "play doctor" with your friends. They already have a doctor with years of experience in diagnosing and treating the problem. They need to work with and trust their doctor to treat the problem. You only complicate the issue when you throw out other ideas that you have read about. The doctor knows more about the causes and solutions; let your friends work with their doctor to solve the problem.
Don't Be Crude
It is appalling that I even have to include this paragraph, but some of you need to hear this-Don't make crude jokes about your friend's vulnerable position. Crude comments like "I'll donate the sperm" or "Make sure the doctor uses your sperm for the insemination" are not funny, and they only irritate your friends.
Don't Complain About Your Pregnancy
This message is for pregnant women-Just being around you is painful for your infertile friends. Seeing your belly grow is a constant reminder of what your infertile friend cannot have. Unless an infertile women plans to spend her life in a cave, she has to find a way to interact with pregnant women. However, there are things you can do as her friend to make it easier.
The number one rule is DON'T COMPLAIN ABOUT YOUR PREGNANCY. I understand from my friends that, when you are pregnant, your hormones are going crazy and you experience a lot of discomfort, such as queasiness, stretch marks, and fatigue. You have every right to vent about the discomforts to any one else in your life, but don't put your infertile friend in the position of comforting you.
Your infertile friend would give anything to experience the discomforts you are enduring because those discomforts come from a baby growing inside of you. When I heard a pregnant woman complain about morning sickness, I would think, "I'd gladly throw up for nine straight months if it meant I could have a baby." When a pregnant woman would complain about her weight gain, I would think, "I would cut off my arm if I could be in your shoes."
I managed to go to baby showers and hospitals to welcome my friends' new babies, but it was hard. Without exception, it was hard. Stay sensitive to your infertile friend's emotions, and give her the leeway that she needs to be happy for you while she cries for herself. If she can't bring herself to hold your new baby, give her time. She isn't rejecting you or your new baby; she is just trying to work her way through her pain to show sincere joy for you. The fact that she is willing to endure such pain in order to celebrate your new baby with you speaks volumes about how much your friendship means to her.
Don't Treat Them Like They Are Ignorant
For some reason, some people seem to think that infertility causes a person to become unrealistic about the responsibilities of parenthood. I don't follow the logic, but several people told me that I wouldn't ache for a baby so much if I appreciated how much responsibility was involved in parenting.
Let's face it-no one can fully appreciate the responsibilities involved in parenting until they are, themselves, parents. That is true whether you successfully conceived after one month or after 10 years. The length of time you spend waiting for that baby does not factor in to your appreciation of responsibility. If anything, people who have been trying to become pregnant longer have had more time to think about those responsibilities. They have also probably been around lots of babies as their friends started their families.
Perhaps part of what fuels this perception is that infertile couples have a longer time to "dream" about what being a parent will be like. Like every other couple, we have our fantasies-my child will sleep through the night, would never have a tantrum in public, and will always eat his vegetables. Let us have our fantasies. Those fantasies are some of the few parent-to-be perks that we have-let us have them. You can give us your knowing looks when we discover the truth later.
Don't Gossip About Your Friend's Condition
Infertility treatments are very private and embarrassing, which is why many couples choose to undergo these treatments in secret. Men especially are very sensitive to letting people know about infertility testing, such as sperm counts. Gossiping about infertility is not usually done in a malicious manner. The gossipers are usually well-meaning people who are only trying to find out more about infertility so they can help their loved ones.
Regardless of why you are sharing this information with someone else, it hurts and embarrasses your friend to find out that Madge the bank teller knows what your husband's sperm count is and when your next period is expected. Infertility is something that should be kept as private as your friend wants to keep it. Respect your friend's privacy, and don't share any information that your friend hasn't authorized.
Don't Push Adoption (Yet)
Adoption is a wonderful way for infertile people to become parents. (As an adoptive parent, I can fully vouch for this!!) However, the couple needs to work through many issues before they will be ready to make an adoption decision. Before they can make the decision to love a "stranger's baby," they must first grieve the loss of that baby with Daddy's eyes and Mommy's nose. Adoption social workers recognize the importance of the grieving process. When my husband and I went for our initial adoption interview, we expected the first question to be, "Why do you want to adopt a baby?" Instead, the question was, "Have you grieved the loss of your biological child yet?" Our social worker emphasized how important it is to shut one door before you open another.
You do, indeed, need to grieve this loss before you are ready to start the adoption process. The adoption process is very long and expensive, and it is not an easy road. So, the couple needs to be very sure that they can let go of the hope of a biological child and that they can love an adopted baby. This takes time, and some couples are never able to reach this point. If your friend cannot love a baby that isn't her "own," then adoption isn't the right decision for her, and it is certainly not what is best for the baby.
Mentioning adoption in passing can be a comfort to some couples. (The only words that ever offered me comfort were from my sister, who said, "Whether through pregnancy or adoption, you will be a mother one day.") However, "pushing" the issue can frustrate your friend. So, mention the idea in passing if it seems appropriate, and then drop it. When your friend is ready to talk about adoption, she will raise the issue herself.
So, what can you say to your infertile friends? Unless you say "I am giving you this baby," there is nothing you can say that will erase their pain. So, take that pressure off of yourself. It isn't your job to erase their pain, but there is a lot you can do to lesson the load. Here are a few ideas.
Let Them Know That You Care
The best thing you can do is let your infertile friends know that you care. Send them cards. Let them cry on your shoulder. If they are religious, let them know you are praying for them. Offer the same support you would offer a friend who has lost a loved one. Just knowing they can count on you to be there for them lightens the load and lets them know that they aren't going through this alone.
Remember Them on Mother's Day
With all of the activity on Mother's Day, people tend to forget about women who cannot become mothers. Mother's Day is an incredibly painful time for infertile women. You cannot get away from it-There are ads on the TV, posters at the stores, church sermons devoted to celebrating motherhood, and all of the plans for celebrating with your own mother and mother-in-law.
Mother's Day is an important celebration and one that I relish now that I am a mother. However, it was very painful while I was waiting for my baby. Remember your infertile friends on Mother's Day, and send them a card to let them know you are thinking of them. They will appreciate knowing that you haven't "forgotten" them.
Support Their Decision to Stop Treatments
No couple can endure infertility treatments forever. At some point, they will stop. This is an agonizing decision to make, and it involves even more grief. Even if the couple chooses to adopt a baby, they must still first grieve the loss of that baby who would have had mommy's nose and daddy's eyes.
Once the couple has made the decision to stop treatments, support their decision. Don't encourage them to try again, and don't discourage them from adopting, if that is their choice. Once the couple has reached resolution (whether to live without children, adopt a child, or become foster parents), they can finally put that chapter of their lives behind them. Don't try to open that chapter again.
http://www.resolve.org/site/PageServer?pagename=lrn_ffaf_ie
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Words of Inspiration
I read a beautiful article on infertility in a church magazine tonight. The author delt with infertility for over seven years and managed to find peace through it all. She is an inspiration. I wanted to remember the last paragraph of the article and I hope to acheive this kind of peace someday.
Most of us will have to experience heart-wrenching adversity at one time or another. Infertility was my greatest trial. Although I still do not understand why I have never been blessed with the experiences of pregnancy and childbirth, I realize it is not essential for me to understand why—that understanding will come at a later time. What matters is that I know that the same Jesus Christ who walked on the earth, healing spiritual and physical sickness of every kind, has healed the sickness that infertility created in my heart. He lives, and my knowledge of His love and of His Atonement is a greater gift than any other—even the gift of being a mother.
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On a side note, I also read this today and it rang so true. So, I thought I'd share...
Being Sensitive to Couples without Children
• Remember that the circumstances in which infertility occurs vary greatly from couple to couple. Infertility may result from a health condition on the part of either or both spouses. Sometimes couples become infertile after they already have a child or children. Some have married later or waited to try to have children, and some have not. Regardless, all deserve compassion and freedom from stereotypes.
• For some sensitive situations, such as baby showers, it might be wise to ask first whether a person wants to be invited. You don’t have to handle infertile people with kid gloves; just ask how they feel and if they are up to certain events. But be sure to include them in Church and family activities.
• Try not to second-guess a couple’s medical treatments or other actions. They have most likely been careful and prayerful in making difficult decisions. Trust that they have learned what is best for their family. Remember that decisions about building a family are between a husband and wife and the Lord.
• Recognize positive contributions that are not related to childbearing or rearing. Everyone needs to feel valuable, and this is sometimes hard—particularly in Latter-day Saint culture—when one cannot become a parent.
• Realize that infertile people can be sensitive to the undertones of your comments, and try to be careful about what you say. For example, saying “You’ll get pregnant if you just relax” implies that you think infertility is the couple’s own fault, when in reality it is usually a medical condition not caused by stress. “You’ll get pregnant as soon as you adopt” implies that you see adoption as merely a path to having a biological child, when it is actually just as valid a path to parenthood as pregnancy. Even reassurances such as “It will happen in the Lord’s time” can be painful for people who are preparing themselves for the possibility that they will not have biological children during this lifetime.
• Express your support and love with simple, positive, nonintrusive comments such as “I love you” or “I have been praying for you.” Your genuine care and concern are needed by those experiencing the trial of infertility.
Ana Nelson Shaw, “Being Sensitive to Couples without Children,” Ensign, Aug 2000, 61
Most of us will have to experience heart-wrenching adversity at one time or another. Infertility was my greatest trial. Although I still do not understand why I have never been blessed with the experiences of pregnancy and childbirth, I realize it is not essential for me to understand why—that understanding will come at a later time. What matters is that I know that the same Jesus Christ who walked on the earth, healing spiritual and physical sickness of every kind, has healed the sickness that infertility created in my heart. He lives, and my knowledge of His love and of His Atonement is a greater gift than any other—even the gift of being a mother.
-----------------------------------------------------------
On a side note, I also read this today and it rang so true. So, I thought I'd share...
Being Sensitive to Couples without Children
• Remember that the circumstances in which infertility occurs vary greatly from couple to couple. Infertility may result from a health condition on the part of either or both spouses. Sometimes couples become infertile after they already have a child or children. Some have married later or waited to try to have children, and some have not. Regardless, all deserve compassion and freedom from stereotypes.
• For some sensitive situations, such as baby showers, it might be wise to ask first whether a person wants to be invited. You don’t have to handle infertile people with kid gloves; just ask how they feel and if they are up to certain events. But be sure to include them in Church and family activities.
• Try not to second-guess a couple’s medical treatments or other actions. They have most likely been careful and prayerful in making difficult decisions. Trust that they have learned what is best for their family. Remember that decisions about building a family are between a husband and wife and the Lord.
• Recognize positive contributions that are not related to childbearing or rearing. Everyone needs to feel valuable, and this is sometimes hard—particularly in Latter-day Saint culture—when one cannot become a parent.
• Realize that infertile people can be sensitive to the undertones of your comments, and try to be careful about what you say. For example, saying “You’ll get pregnant if you just relax” implies that you think infertility is the couple’s own fault, when in reality it is usually a medical condition not caused by stress. “You’ll get pregnant as soon as you adopt” implies that you see adoption as merely a path to having a biological child, when it is actually just as valid a path to parenthood as pregnancy. Even reassurances such as “It will happen in the Lord’s time” can be painful for people who are preparing themselves for the possibility that they will not have biological children during this lifetime.
• Express your support and love with simple, positive, nonintrusive comments such as “I love you” or “I have been praying for you.” Your genuine care and concern are needed by those experiencing the trial of infertility.
Ana Nelson Shaw, “Being Sensitive to Couples without Children,” Ensign, Aug 2000, 61
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Patiently Playing Mama
Our recent beach trip was a blast, with one tragic aftermath...my dear husband is burnt. And by burnt, I don't mean touch a spot and watch it turn from white to red, I mean radiating, excruciating, haven't-slept-for-three-days burnt.
So I am being Ms. Nurse today: rubbing aloe on his back, running tepid water baths, changing dressings every 15 minutes. I am taking care of him, right down to fixing his favorite meals, washing sheets, divvying out medicine, you name it.
In doing so, I am reminded of my own mother. When I was sick, my mom wasn't the "lay on the couch, here's the remote" type. She would do everything she could to make the experience of being sick as pleasant as possible. I remember her changing the sheets often during the day, so I would have cool, clean sheets to lie in. She would snuggle with me and watch daytime TV, like Magnum PI or Matlock. She would buy me my favorite popsicles or make me homemade chicken noodle soup. To this day, she still offers homemade soup whenever I am sick.
I guess I inherited some of this. I've heard that you grow to love others more when you serve them. In trying to help Ryan, I show him I love him and my love grows in return.
As I was sitting next to him, he told me jokingly, "You're gonna make a great nurse". I replied to him, "No, I'm going to make a great mom."
They say that you should be grateful for your trials and the things you have learned from them. It's difficult to be grateful for infertility. However, what I am grateful for is the person that I have become because of it. I will be a much more patient, appreciative, compassionate, knowledgeable, tender-hearted mother than I ever would have been otherwise. I try to think back on myself at 23, and the mother I would have been if I had gotten pregnant right away with no sacrifice or struggle from which to learn and grow. Don't get me wrong, I think I would have been a good mother.
But now, years later, I think I will be great. Maybe I needed these last several years to become what I ought to be. And, perhaps, there's still more learning and growing to be done.
So I am being Ms. Nurse today: rubbing aloe on his back, running tepid water baths, changing dressings every 15 minutes. I am taking care of him, right down to fixing his favorite meals, washing sheets, divvying out medicine, you name it.
In doing so, I am reminded of my own mother. When I was sick, my mom wasn't the "lay on the couch, here's the remote" type. She would do everything she could to make the experience of being sick as pleasant as possible. I remember her changing the sheets often during the day, so I would have cool, clean sheets to lie in. She would snuggle with me and watch daytime TV, like Magnum PI or Matlock. She would buy me my favorite popsicles or make me homemade chicken noodle soup. To this day, she still offers homemade soup whenever I am sick.
I guess I inherited some of this. I've heard that you grow to love others more when you serve them. In trying to help Ryan, I show him I love him and my love grows in return.
As I was sitting next to him, he told me jokingly, "You're gonna make a great nurse". I replied to him, "No, I'm going to make a great mom."
They say that you should be grateful for your trials and the things you have learned from them. It's difficult to be grateful for infertility. However, what I am grateful for is the person that I have become because of it. I will be a much more patient, appreciative, compassionate, knowledgeable, tender-hearted mother than I ever would have been otherwise. I try to think back on myself at 23, and the mother I would have been if I had gotten pregnant right away with no sacrifice or struggle from which to learn and grow. Don't get me wrong, I think I would have been a good mother.
But now, years later, I think I will be great. Maybe I needed these last several years to become what I ought to be. And, perhaps, there's still more learning and growing to be done.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Infertility
Sometimes the pain of infertility is nearly unbearable. I have never experienced anything this lonely, this heartbreaking, this painful. I don't even recognize myself anymore. I feel so alone. The pain is actually physical, sometimes I can't even breathe. I don't know how to let it go. But, after 5 years, I don't know how much more I can take.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Calling All Babies!
I used to consider myself good with babies. I was babysitting when most of my friends were still being babysat. I started watching my nephews on a limited basis at 10 years old and started watching other people's kids at 11. I was really comfortable holding, rocking, feeding, burping, you name it!
Then I got older, wrapped up in my own life, and I babysat less and less. Once I was married and started trying to conceive, I was in Long Beach and the friends I had that were starting families lived back at home.
By the time I was back in Fresno, I had been trying unsuccessfully for a year, and I was already becoming pretty heartbroken about not having a child of my own. I avoided babies, they just made me sad. They were little, cuddly reminders of what I didn't and couldn't have.
Time went on and I slowly became less and less bitter about my own struggle. Still sad, mind you, but less bitter. It began to be easier to be around babies. Unfortunately, by this time, I had become awkwardly uncomfortable when taking care of them. I began to feel completely out of my element while holding them. It's hard to describe and even harder to believe, since I grew up "baby crazy", wanting to hold and take care of every baby around. But, that's what I had become.
Okay, so on to the purpose of my story. When I talked with the acupuncturist's office yesterday, she told me to spend more time around babies, watching them, taking care of them, etc. At first, I braced myself. Typically, when someone is talking to me about my infertility and they tell me to spend more time around kids, they are preparing to make some kind of joke about how I could have their kids or how spending time with kids may make me not want one so bad. In fact, my anesthesiologist told me this while I was preparing to go under for surgery. Kind of unbelievable, huh? Here I am, undergoing elective surgery to try to find out why I can't conceive, and he makes a joke like that. He was lucky my arm was tied down and I was too disoriented to set him straight!
Anyway, I digress. The reason the nice lady at the acupuncturist's office was telling me to spend time around babies was because they have found that "getting in touch with your mothering instincts" by spending time nurturing a child can actually help you to conceive a child. Being in the nurturing frame of mind is good for the soul and, consequently, good for the body. There seems to be some truth behind the theory and, since I am willing to try just about anything that is safe, cheap, and effective, I'll try it!
So, I am going to try to be better about participating in all things baby. I know sometimes it may make me sad, as I truly want a child of my own. Nevertheless, when I am hanging out with friends or at church, and there are babies around, I am going to try to get in touch with the mother inside me. I may look awkward or insecure, but I think it will be good for me. If for no other reason than it would be good practice.
Then I got older, wrapped up in my own life, and I babysat less and less. Once I was married and started trying to conceive, I was in Long Beach and the friends I had that were starting families lived back at home.
By the time I was back in Fresno, I had been trying unsuccessfully for a year, and I was already becoming pretty heartbroken about not having a child of my own. I avoided babies, they just made me sad. They were little, cuddly reminders of what I didn't and couldn't have.
Time went on and I slowly became less and less bitter about my own struggle. Still sad, mind you, but less bitter. It began to be easier to be around babies. Unfortunately, by this time, I had become awkwardly uncomfortable when taking care of them. I began to feel completely out of my element while holding them. It's hard to describe and even harder to believe, since I grew up "baby crazy", wanting to hold and take care of every baby around. But, that's what I had become.
Okay, so on to the purpose of my story. When I talked with the acupuncturist's office yesterday, she told me to spend more time around babies, watching them, taking care of them, etc. At first, I braced myself. Typically, when someone is talking to me about my infertility and they tell me to spend more time around kids, they are preparing to make some kind of joke about how I could have their kids or how spending time with kids may make me not want one so bad. In fact, my anesthesiologist told me this while I was preparing to go under for surgery. Kind of unbelievable, huh? Here I am, undergoing elective surgery to try to find out why I can't conceive, and he makes a joke like that. He was lucky my arm was tied down and I was too disoriented to set him straight!
Anyway, I digress. The reason the nice lady at the acupuncturist's office was telling me to spend time around babies was because they have found that "getting in touch with your mothering instincts" by spending time nurturing a child can actually help you to conceive a child. Being in the nurturing frame of mind is good for the soul and, consequently, good for the body. There seems to be some truth behind the theory and, since I am willing to try just about anything that is safe, cheap, and effective, I'll try it!
So, I am going to try to be better about participating in all things baby. I know sometimes it may make me sad, as I truly want a child of my own. Nevertheless, when I am hanging out with friends or at church, and there are babies around, I am going to try to get in touch with the mother inside me. I may look awkward or insecure, but I think it will be good for me. If for no other reason than it would be good practice.
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