Category: Coping

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Has Our Fertility Ship Sailed? – part 2

The hope remains that we’ve take a different course that can still lead us to our destination, it’s not like we’ve struck ground and started sinking.  To be honest, sometimes having that hope annoys me, I think it would be easier to give up, take it for what it is, but funny the resiliency of the human spirit…resiliency, persistence, stubbornness, naivety, call it what you will, but it’s there.

After trying to conceive for two and half years with unexplained infertility, I often wonder how much of a relief it would be if I could just push the idea of having a family from my mind.  Ignore the biological desire, forget the fantasy I’ve put together of our family Christmases, first birthday parties, being pregnant.  If only my husband and I could just throw up our hands and say “Well, we gave it a good run!”  The unexplained part gets me – there’s no reason we shouldn’t be able to conceive, we just haven’t.  That open ended sentence that just continues into oblivion.  Will we or won’t we?  Could our time be next month or next year?  It’s the holding on to what might be that keeps us…I don’t know, stuck?  Motivated?  Hopeful?  I guess you really can look at the glass half full or empty, depending on your mood.

Is it possible to just put this on hold?  Can I go a few months where I lose track of my cycle or have I been doing this for so long that it now becomes second nature?  It’s sort of like saying “Don’t think of a big pink elephant” and then that’s all you think about!  I’ll admit, I’m scared to even “waste” a few months where we aren’t trying.  Neither of us are getting any younger, but at the same time, I can’t see us continuing this song and dance without taking some sort of break.  I guess each month has been mechanical, and perhaps that is a sign to take a break.  See what I just did there?  I referred to a month of not trying to conceive as “a waste” – YES, time to change it up!  We are supposed to be human ‘beings’ not human ‘doings’.

I don’t think anyone should feel they need to “get over” infertility – not at all.  You don’t get over it, do you?  These experiences, just like any other, will stay with you forever, no matter if you have a child or not.  Our experiences shape us regardless of how little or how much thought we put into them.  Perhaps a better piece of “advice” and hopefully what she was trying to say, is “don’t let it stop you from doing other things”.  Whether that is developing your career, being intimate for fun, or just enjoying life.  Fertility-challenged doesn’t have to become a road-block or never ending obstacle course that keeps you from the rest of your life. 

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Has Our Fertility Ship Sailed? – part 1

We just hit our two and a half year mark of trying to conceive.  The hormone therapy started in the fall may have produced “juicy” follicles (direct quote from my fertility specialist) and stopped my luteal phase spotting, but it did not produce a baby.  This weekend, after four negative pregnancy tests (I went a little overboard hoping I might see that double line or plus sign), my husband and I had to come to the realization that if we wanted to have children, conceiving “naturally” just wasn’t going to cut it.  To say I was emotionally distraught and felt physically sick is an understatement.  An insensitive phone call with my mother, who felt the need to say more or less “get over it” and “move on”, was the icing on the cake.  I saw the future we planned sink right before my eyes.

The devastation I felt Saturday made me realize just how much I thought we would be able to conceive within these 2.5 years.  I thought this was the month – I felt energetic, positive, and at 12dpo I thought there was a faint plus sign on my CVS pregnancy test.  Apparently it was an evap line (something new I learned).  Saturday evening I completely broke down – it felt as if my world was crumbling right in front of me and I no longer had the strength to keep rebuilding.  The thought of our inability to conceive overwhelmed my mind – I just didn’t understand why this was happening.  Why, in order for us to possibly have a family of our own (because there are no guarantees), we will have to pay?  Not being able to accomplish biology 101 blew my mind.  I felt anger, bitterness, depression, disbelief, sadness.  All these emotions, all at the same time. I was exhausted.

This will take time to come to terms with, to understand and accept.  I am nowhere near understanding and acceptance.  My husband and I are scheduled to meet with our fertility specialist on Feb 12 to discuss our options when it comes to IUI and IVF.  I don’t know if we’ll move forward with either of those options…the way I feel this week I’m ready to hang up my hat for a bit and give my body and mind break.  I suppose the “bright side” is that we can even consider doing Assisted Reproductive Technology, that financially we may be able to try it out one time…I know to even have this option is a blessing.

I suppose just like with each cycle, we enter a new phase of “wait and see”.  We’ll gather our information on IVF and IUI, do our research, and then most likely put that information aside for awhile.  I don’t think either of us can jump into any other treatments right now.  There are times when I can’t imagine us not having a family of our own, but now I’m thinking perhaps it’s just not meant to be and that is a hard pill to swallow.  As you all know, it’s exhausting, the constant appointments, ultrasounds, bloodwork, tracking.  I would lie if there isn’t a glimmer of hope inside me that this “time off” will in fact get us pregnant – you know the stories I’m talking about, the ones where “a friend of a friend stopped trying and got pregnant right away.”  I really don’t believe those stories, I think they are exaggerated.  After going through these two years, there is no way a couple can “stop trying” or “just forget” – isn’t it always in the back of your head?

Has our fertility shipped sail?  Are we at the end?  I think it’s too soon to tell, clearly our ship has taken another direction and only time will tell whether we hop aboard or decide to stay on land.

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In the Shadows

Perusing through The Infertility Voice’s Facebook page, my pointer slowly hovers over the ‘like’ button, and then it moves away, only to find its way back, but eventually leaves the page altogether.  With every blog post I write, or article I read related to infertility, I find myself on the fence of “liking” and “sharing”, but only to hold back.  I am still in the shadows…I still feel shame or embarrassment on some level and I shouldn’t, no one going through this should.  Only four people in my circles know about my blog and none of them have the url – that really says something.

As I wander the vast landscape of interconnecting articles, posts, and couples emotionally sharing with complete strangers online, I wonder if there is a privacy setting so no one else can see if I too chime in.  Sometimes I think it will be a relief, just to let it out and show my friends and family…all of them…that it’s been over two long years of trying to have our child.  Part of me thinks back to when Chrissy Teigen went public with her fertility struggle…it was so moving and inspiring (Tyra too), but then to find out weeks later she was expecting.  I wonder…would she have been so open if she wasn’t pregnant?  Will I be that way?  I know if my husband and I do have children I will openly share our struggle (sans some of the details of course!), but why not now?  Is it because our future is still unclear?  I don’t know the outcome for certain, and yes, I know that confines me.

I have a distant friend who adopted her son about two years ago and just gave birth to another son.  She calls them both miracles.  Some time ago, I saw her “like” a news post about a local doctor she went to – he specializes in treating endometriosis.  After visiting her Facebook page I noticed she followed an endometriosis group.  Now, here is a person to open up to – although it’s been quite some time since we saw each other, we both have endometriosis (I’m assuming) and perhaps she too has struggled with infertility.  And yet I haven’t reached out.  I am so fearful that my story will spread through the grapevine and people will start poking into our business.  It’s always been my instinct to gradually wade into the water… 

I wonder how many other couples hold back from loved ones…I wonder how many times we’ve sat across from friends or family who also struggled.  The prospect of knowledge gained should really overcome any fear we have, and yet often times it does not.  I don’t want pity, I want answers and perhaps opening up to others can provide me with those answers, or better yet, perhaps I can help someone else out.  So many of us struggle silently in reality, yet have no problems opening up to an online forum.  Perhaps that’s because we already know we have allies waiting online, complete strangers who can “get” what we are going through, more so than our closest friends and family to the best of our knowledge.

It’s a very personal thing, deciding who and when to share our struggle with…it doesn’t come easy at all.  My feelings on it change with every phase.  I don’t think I was strong enough last year or the year before to share my story openly, but I think I’m getting closer.  I know I would like to.

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Out with the Old…in with the New…sort of

Ahh, the new year has begun!  I can’t help but think this could be our big year – we buy a house, my career gets back on track, the work-life balance for my husband returns and yes, we fall pregnant!  It may be a new year, but it’s really just a change in the calendar, yet we as humans use this milestone as a way to start over, a fresh start to the same life, it’s as if a switch goes on that says on January 1 2016 all things will be different…or at least things can be started in that motion.

Realistically I know that because the calendar says January 1 it doesn’t really change anything in our situation.  I’m sure we still have our struggle ahead, but if the last year has taught me anything (and it sure has!) it’s that my husband and I can persevere and support one another through difficult times. We’ve made it this far…we can keep going.  As I sat on our couch last night, reflecting on 2015, I was quite surprised to find that I continued to find good memories and achievements to focus on.  The struggle with our fertility did not take center stage, in fact, it was something in the shadows that I just didn’t want to harp on.  My husband got a new job after a year from being laid off, my parents got their grant to rebuild after Hurricane Sandy and bought a small new retirement home, I’ve learned more of what I want in a career (and life), we embraced the summer and our city living, we found a good realtor (fingers-crossed) and I, we, managed the hormone therapy and constant doctor checkups.  2015 was tough, but I can now see all the positives that came from it.

I don’t have any resolutions this year – I will continue to move forward.  Yes, I will have self-doubt, moments where I think the sky is falling, heartbreak each time a home pregnancy test shows negative, but I will get through it all…I am confident of that now…and you will too.  Nothing stays the same.  A friend of a friend posted a message on Facebook just this week and to paraphrase, everything changes…all the time. If you are miserable today, you won’t always be.  The flipside is also true…if you are happy and things are going right, embrace those moments because they too will change.  I think the two work hand-in-hand…the good times pull you through your dark hours…the bad times help you appreciate all the good there is and possibly help you change your perspective.  My husband and I comment frequently how quickly the time goes…life is precious, enjoy the small moments of happiness and never forget them as you go through your struggles.  We are all blessed in more than one way…sometimes we just need to change our perspective to see all that we do have.

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Paralysis

There are days when I feel my mind is paralyzed by our fertility struggle.  I find it hard to think of anything else and when I start down the dark path, it’s hard to come back.  One thought leads to the next, my mind swarming with different scenarios of what our future will look like, what our families think, how worthless I am.  Some daysI can hear the “clock” ticking, louder and louder with each failed cycle.  Do we move forward in treatment?  Do we start to look for alternatives?  Do we start to consider our house down payment as possible fertility funds?  This is not what I expected, I’m sure none of us did. 

I find myself hesitant with family and friend gatherings.  I am nervous the talk of family and the questions on when do we plan on starting our own will come up.  I have plans with friends tomorrow evening and for the past few days I have been scared that another will announce her pregnancy – that will leave me the odd man out.  I don’t even want to have a short visit with my Mother-in-Law out of state because I am embarrassed – yes, I feel ashamed and fight the urge to crawl into my shell and stay there.  It was one thing when my mind would get consumed by infertility, but now for me physically not wanting to go into situations where the talk of babies may come up is an entirely different ball game and I don’t like it one bit – that’s not who I am.

I think I’ve faced most challenges in my life head on.  I’m not afraid of confrontation, stating my own opinion, or going against the grain.  I’m outspoken, stand my ground, and I believe I elude an air of confidence.  Of course I’ve always struggled with insecurity – who hasn’t – but it never stopped me from trying to get what I want in life.  Infertility is slowly…has eaten away at these traits…I feel it, I see it.  Like an acid, it has corroded into nearly all aspects of me.  I know at some point this will need to change on my end, there is no guarantee that we will ever have child, and I am not willing to go through life meek and ashamed (ah, there’s that bit of spark coming back!).

When I work from home, inevitably my mind wonders into the realm of being fertility challenged and sometimes it gets stuck there for quite awhile.  Typically after some tears and online searching I bounce back, other days I’m not so resilient.  It doesn’t help of course when you have to be monitored at the doctor – how are you supposed to “forget about it” and “relax” when you need to keep track of ovulation, doctor appointments, and drug therapy?  “Trying to conceive” is marked in all my doctor charts, so even when I go to my allergist (like yesterday) or my primary care doctor, the comment/question of “Are you still trying to conceive?” naturally comes up.  I feel my whole soul slowly cave in…kind of like a mushy pile folding in on itself.  Those are the days I can do without.

I’ve noticed I tend to nap more and I feel like my face is frowning when I’m in our apartment alone.  I often remind myself to smile and watch the curve of my mouth – who wants permanent frownie lines!  I try to give myself a reality check and remind myself that some of my hardest thoughts are not based on any evidence and that it’s just the insecurities of infertility toying with me.  My husband won’t leave me for another woman.  His mother won’t tell him to shop around for a new wife.  I am no less of a woman, wife, daughter, because I have yet to have a child.

I don’t know when our time to be parents will come.  I sometimes think maybe we already are parents, sacrificing and doing what we can for our child now, even if they aren’t here yet. 

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Sticks and Stones…

“I give you a lot of credit…if it was me, I would have already signed the adoption papers”.  Thanks.  We’ve all been there, among family, friends, acquaintances, when the words come out that sting like the nastiest little wasp.  Some comments aren’t as blatant as others, but when the words come from those closest to us, those who we think should be in tune with how sensitive a subject infertility is, especially after we’ve opened up to them, well, it just plain sucks.

“I give you a lot of credit…if it was me, I would have already signed the adoption papers”.

Over the summer I was hanging out with a few of my friends.  One innocently asked me what I thought about having children because she and I felt similar in the past – if it happens, it happens, but we didn’t have to be moms to be happy in life.  Obviously this changed as we settled into our marriages.  I could barely get half way through my sentence before the tears came.  This was at a bar; perhaps the earlier martinis and 100 degree weather pushed me closer to the brink of tears than usual, but the emotions flooded my head.  I tried to compose myself, afterall, I was in public and typically I don’t show vulnerability, but here it was.  The four of us talked briefly, each sharing our own personal stories and feelings about pregnancy – this was support – each giving advice and listening, having a few laughs along the way.  One wasn’t in a relationship and concerned because her clock was ticking, but she didn’t know if she wanted children, but felt like she should.  The other was scared to even start trying because she knows so many women who suffered miscarriages.  My other friend just start trying to conceive and expected that she may have to use some help to get pregnant which is quite alright by her.  And here I was, two years in, arms empty, pain throughout my soul, and fear that we may never have a child of our own.

There was no “Relax, it will just happen” or “You worry too much”.  No, this was just women sharing their thoughts, each offering the other something that we couldn’t give ourselves.

Turning into a wallflower

It’s true – every social occasion with family and friends I get a little nervous because I am scared the conversation will shift to family and starting one. I dread visiting my own parents at times, I feel myself tense up, especially if the conversation innocently enough starts shifting towards family or children (anybody’s). I’m sure you can relate.  The holidays are just around the corner and in my mind I play out the scenarios and how I will respond.  There are probably other people in the room who can relate.  Part of me feels like handing out promo pieces for this blog! I’ve gotten rather good at changing the topic of conversation when I’m asked if we want kids.  In my head I’m screaming “YES!  But we’ve been trying to no avail!”, but I’m saying “So, tell me more about your FILL IN THE BLANK”.  People love to talk about themselves

Many people can be insensitive – I don’t think it’s done on purpose, I don’t think most people are even aware when they are being hurtful.  I just accept it for what it is and let it roll.  I know who I can count on for support and who I can’t.

Yes, I get completely annoyed when I hear “It will happen” or the “I know a friend of a friend” story of encouragement.  Do most people mean well?  Probably.  Will I be telling any others about our struggle?  Umm…probably not.  I’m always on the fence about sharing our journey.  I don’t want to hear “encouraging” words or advice from anyone new, but I also don’t think it’s something I need to hide or feel ashamed of….and yet I still do.

I hope these feelings dissipate over time, with or without falling pregnant.  I think when I am truly comfortable with what life has handed us, then none of these words will matter.  When I truly believe it is not my fault and I am no less of a woman than any other, then the saying “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” will hold true.  Until then, I will put on my “happy” face at social functions and may even step outside of my comfort zone just to see someone else eat their words…well probably not, but I can still imagine Ally McBeal style.  Stay strong…stay well…and stand tall.

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More Tricks than Treats

October was a particularly hard month for me.   It was probably a combination of my prescribed hormone therapy (Clomid and Endometrin) and the parade of Halloween costume clad children marching up and down my Facebook newsfeed.  I was taken aback by the feelings that bubbled to the surface as I scrolled and saw parents and their children getting ready for Halloween.  I wondered if I too someday would get to make my daughter’s or son’s costume. As I watched ‘first halloweens’, a scary thought (no pun intended) entered my head “We may never get to experience this.”  I have so many plans of how my husband and I will celebrate the holidays with our own children and now I’m wondering if we’ll ever get to.  More tricks than treats…that was October.

Heading into October I had some very emotional days – one day I cried uncontrollably for most of the AM – luckily I worked from home that day.  I think this was a result of the Clomid, as this had never happened before.  The “weepiness” felt different, but I muddled through.  A small part of me thought perhaps I could be pregnant and this emotion was due to hormones.  I wasn’t. 

I did find it was possible to distract myself from the daily struggle in front of me, all it took was some sunshine from the West Coast.  We had a wonderful and much needed vacation to San Francisco.  I felt great – a full week and break from the craziness of what our lives were enduring.  We were happy.  Heck, it was possible to not think about having trouble conceiving – all that was needed was sightseeing, day tours, great food, and the sites of the Pacific coast.  It was wonderful to feel like my old self. 

We returned, another negative pregnancy test, another start of a new cycle.  I guess in my subconscious I was hoping the ever-so-popular saying from well-meaning individuals of “Just relax!” or “Take a vacation” would work wonders for our situation, it didn’t. 

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Don’t ask, Don’t tell?

Well before we started trying to get pregnant, I remember having a slight anxiety creep over me whenever someone else announced they were expecting – it always seemed to be followed by some well-meaning individual who felt the need to turn to me and announce to the group “Uh oh, you’re next!”.  I never understood that – why, particularly women – get the idea to start asking others “When are you going to have children?” Maybe it has to do with some sort of biological bonding need…I don’t really know.

Now, this same feeling is ten-fold.  I am 34, my husband is 38, we’ve been married for three years, and now we carry the weight of being fertility challenged.  We have my mother’s 60th birthday party coming up and this thought, of being asked by several family members, “How about kids for you?”, is starting to lurk its head.  I know this party is not about me, I know the exciting news of coworkers expecting is not about me, I get that people mean no harm when they ask, but the dread is there.  Where is the line of letting people into this ever so personal aspect of your life?  It took me a year before I even told my mom, nearly the full two years before we told my mother-in-law.  Sometimes I fantasize of yelling at the next person who asks us – telling them it’s been two years and has taken a toll – just to see the look on their face.  I think I would get some satisfaction out of that.

The first person I told of our “woes” was my brother.  He’s absolutely safe – I knew he was the one person who wouldn’t fall into the championing “It will happen to you – just RELAX” camp.  I told him via email.  It felt good – just to let a bit out, we no longer held the secret alone. 

In May of 2014 I told my mom.  I was away at a conference, my period came a week early and it was heavy, lasted only about a day or two.  I thought it was odd, even to this day.  While on the phone, my mother gave me the “wonderful” advice of “Just have a baby already, that will fix your cycle” – after rolling my eyes I told her that we were trying and that it had been nearly 10 months.  I told her I did not want to discuss it further, unless I brought it up, and she obliged for a good part of that year.  The cat was out of the bag.  Again, it felt as if a bit of the weight had been lifted. Once we hit the one year mark some of my friends knew – now, not everyone knew the whole story, nor did they know how it really made me feel, I often downplayed the whole situation and kept that damn fake smile on and quickly changed the subject. 

So, here’s the thing – I was at the point where I was comfortable giving away just a bit of information, it made me feel better, it was still a hopeful phase, right before the one year mark really isn’t terrible because yes, it’s taking longer than expected, but statistically, one would think it just means the following cycle could be THE ONE – because 98% of women will conceive in their first year of trying.  We may have even had the timing off a few times, so okay, it will happen.  But, now what?  Another year later, 12 more cycles of disappointment.  I didn’t think this far ahead.  As upset as I have gotten with each cycle, I thought I would fall pregnant.  I wouldn’t say I’m embarrassed, because no one should feel embarrassed over this, but I feel a certain way that other people know of our struggle. 

So, should we share this information with others?  Emotions aside, I think the answer is yes, I think we just need to choose wisely who we tell. 

Part of me, actually a very large part of me, feels like a failure, a disappointment.  Before, when only my husband and I knew of our challenge, at least I only felt like a disappointment to us – now I have a mother, father, and mother-in-law to add to this list. For me, it didn’t feel right not telling our parents – I knew they were wondering if we planned to have children – I know they want to be grandparents. 

Do I regret saying anything to anyone?  Should I have just kept it inside and repeatedly said I didn’t want kids?  At times, knowing what I know now, I probably would have not said a word, other times I’m glad I did.  I read a quote the other day, I don’t know if it’s truly from Marilyn Monroe or not, but it said something along the lines of we shouldn’t regret what we’ve done in the past, because at that exact moment we did what we wanted.  My advice, if you want it, is to tell who you will be comfortable sharing good news with when your moment arrives, but more importantly, share it with someone you will be comfortable crying to if your moment does not happen.

So…what am I going to do at my mom’s party?  DANCE.

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The Big Blue Coaster

I don’t know what it was – a bad dream that I couldn’t remember, the feeling of cramps and knowing I was due in the next few days, or perhaps it’s the fact that this month marks nearly two years of trying to conceive.  The words sting – it makes my brow furrow, an uneasy swell in the pit of my stomach, kind of like the tip over the first big drop in a roller coaster – only the three minute ride is lasting much longer than anticipated and I cannot wait to get off.

I woke so blue Sunday morning – as soon as I opened my eyes the sinking feeling was already there.  I was so quiet, eating my breakfast while watching HGTV, but I could just feel it on my face…in my soul.  I knew I was going to work out and no matter how much I wanted to crawl back into my sheets and shut my eyes, I made sure I got my butt to the gym.  On my way out I told my husband that he didn’t have to stay.  He pulled me close, told me it was his pleasure to stay (yes, his exact words) and we had a brief laugh.  I know this hurts him – I know he wants a child – I also know he loves me.  My husband has a way about him that warms me and can bring me out of my moods (which is ever so difficult at times) – it’s the same corniness that gets him out of doing the dishes (sometimes), but I digress.  Off I trudge to the gym – trying to force a smile, take in the sun – apparently if you’re feeling sad and you fake smile it tricks your mind – that has still yet to work for me.

Off to the gym I go and it isn’t until an hour into my workout and a few Whitney Houston songs later (I highly recommend ‘Step by Step’) that I can finally feel the weight lift (no pun intended).  That’s the thing, sometimes the feeling comes from nowhere, sometimes I feel it seep in after seeing the 10th baby announcement on my Facebook feed, sometimes it’s when we’re shopping and I see baby bumps or moms losing their patience with their children.  Some days I am struck with guilt, other days I genuinely enjoy seeing a pregnant woman or child singing to their parent on the subway and I think “I get to look forward to that”.  Perhaps two years ago I myself didn’t know what a blessing a child is…maybe I never really gave it all that much thought because with a booming population, I had no idea getting pregnant was even a challenge (they don’t tell you that in health education do they?).

So here I am, on this “amusement” park of a ride…it seems I have a ‘ride all month’ pass.  The beginning of the month I think ‘OK, we’ll try again and start new’ – mid cycle and after the lovely smiley face makes its appearance on my ovulation test we get excited…WEEEEEEEE…then comes the wait…still hopeful…and then put your arms up, here we go again!  Maybe you’re more of a tilt-a-whirl gal – each month you go around in the same circle, or the scrambler – being jerked forward towards hope, only to get pulled back again.  Whether it’s push and pull, up and down, this is no fun ride.  I’ve had my fair share of emotions, but I never knew the human body could go through so many in such a short amount of time.  Perhaps that’s the silver lining- the resiliency of the human spirit.  I’ve been in this amusement park for so long, seemingly stuck in a house of horrors, that I know for each of these bad days, there will be plenty of good days.  For each tear I cry (Lord knows it’s been plenty!) I will also have laughter, and I won’t have to fake that smile.