Gratitude before Mother's Day

It's been 4 years since we decided to start TTC.  I thought this milestone would be the perfect occasion to reflect back on our journey and to express my deep gratitude for all the family members, friends, co-workers, support group members, medical care professionals, blog readers, forum participants, acquaintances, and even complete strangers that have supported us along the way.  

I am humbled by the amount of love and compassion that so many of you have shown us.  If you are a friend of mine who has listened to our story, read my blog, sent me cards or messages to let me know when you are thinking of me, prayed for me, or cared and thought about me, even if I never knew it, thank you.

Thank you to all those who have checked in on me, given me space when I needed it, considered my feelings in social situations, privately notified me before announcing your own pregnancies, asked how you can help, listened to me, and hugged me.

Thank you to my DH who has been through the trenches with me, supported me, fought for our love, and done everything in his power and good conscience to give me what I want more than anything..... besides him and our love of course.

Although IF has changed me forever and at times has taken over my identity, something else has changed my sense of identity too: the kindness, love, and support of those who have been there for us along the way.  I am so grateful to have so many people in my life who care about me.  I hope you all know who you are, and I hope you know that you make me stronger.  You make my life more full, more complete.  You remind me of the bigger picture and all the small things too, and you help me keep my pain and grief in perspective.  You pull me back out into the world when I get stuck in my own head, and you pick me up and carry me when I can't stand by myself.  

I am sorry for the times I have not been the best friend, mother, daughter, granddaughter, niece, cousin, in-law, co-worker, or listener.  I want to be better.  I want to remember that all those roles which I play and the relationships I have are important parts of my identity too.  I promise to try.  I promise to myself that someday I will work through this suffering and come out on the other side and be even better than the person you knew before this struggle took over me.  I refuse to be stuck here forever.  Someday, whether it's because I move on to motherhood or accept a new child-free life, I will put this behind me.  I'm sure it will always be part of me, but I won't let it consume me forever.  I'll grow from it, learn from it, and be stronger because of it.

And to those of you who will still be there ready and waiting for me when that day finally comes, thank you.

Understanding the Grief of Infertility

Chances are, you know someone who is struggling with infertility. More than seven million people in the United States experience infertility.  This figure represents 12% of women of childbearing age, and one in eight couples. Yet, as a society, we are extremely uninformed about how to provide emotional support for our loved ones during this painful time.  

Perhaps attempting to explain the pain that an infertile couple experiences can help others to understand what their infertile friends and family members are going through.  Understanding the pain of others can foster empathy, and true empathy can create the environment necessary to sincerely support other people.  Therefore, let us try to explain the pain of infertility to others so that they might be better equipped to support us through our grief.

As the RESOLVE website explains, "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."

I found an older blog post on WorldofWinks.wordpress.com where the author took information a friend had sent her about grief, and she adapted it to be perfectly applicable to infertility.  I think it might help my friends and family to understand how I feel and what they can do to help me when I am struggling or having a bad day... and maybe it will help them not to say the wrong thing when I'm happy & having a good day too :)

Things I Wish I Could Tell People About Grieving Infertility or Just Grieving

1. I wish you would not be afraid to speak to me about what is going on in my life, and to ask what you can do to help.
2. If I cry or get emotional when we talk about them, I wish you knew that it isn’t because you have hurt me. The fact that I have suffered has caused my tears. You have allowed me to cry, and I thank you. Crying and emotional outbursts are healing.
3. I wish you wouldn’t pretend that nothing is happening to me, because it is a large part of my life. I need my friends and family by my side.
4. I will have emotional highs and lows, ups and downs. I wish you wouldn’t think that if I have a good day, my grief is over, or that if I have a bad day, I need psychiatric counseling.
5. Grieving and what I’m going through is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn’t shy away from me.
6. I wish you knew that all of the “crazy” grief reactions I am having are in fact very normal. Depression, anger, frustration, hopelessness, and questioning of values and beliefs are to be expected during and following what is happening to me.
7. I wish you wouldn’t expect my grief to be over if and when I appear to be smiling or happy.
8. I wish you would understand the physical reactions to grief. I may gain weight or lose weight…sleep all the time or not at all…want to surround myself with business or be all alone, all of which may be related to my grief.
9. A birthday, anniversaries of big days, holidays, and the day I found out, are all terrible times for me. I wish you could tell me that you are thinking about me, and if I get quite withdrawn, just know I am doing my best to cope. Please don’t try to coerce me into being cheerful or tell me that it will be better soon.
10. It is normal and good that most of us re-examine our faith, values, and beliefs throughout this journey. We will question things we have been taught all our lives, and hopefully come to some new understandings to include those with God. I wish you would let me tangle with my religion, opinions, and beliefs without making me feel guilty.
11. I wish you would not offer me drinks or drugs to ease the pain. These are just temporary crutches. The only way I can get through this grief is to experience it, and sometimes immerse myself in it. I have to hurt before I can heal.
12. I wish you understood that grief and difficult situations change people. I am not the same person I was before I experienced it nor will I ever be that person again. If you keep waiting for me to “get back to my old self,” you will be frustrated. I am a new creature with new thoughts, dreams, aspirations, values, and beliefs. Please try and get to know the “new me”…maybe you will still like me.

10 Things You Should Not Say To Someone Going Through Infertility Treatments

In celebration of National Infertility Awareness Week, Liz Kozak, writing for the Huff Post's Parenting Blog published the following article on April 28th, which offers a list of what not to say to someone going through fertility treatments.

Early in 2012, I had published a page on this blog about what not to say to your infertile friend, and I imagine that B & I might be just as sensitive to some of the comments outlined below if everything goes as planned and we can find way to finance IVF in 2014.  So, without any further opinions from me, please read, learn, and enjoy!

"Why don't you just adopt?"

I may choose adoption down the line, but my desire to have a biological child is the same as any of the other 800 bazillion women out there getting pregnant and starting families. So, why don't you adopt some manners?

"Just take it as the universe's sign you're not meant to have kids."

Be honest here. Haven't you ever seen a pregnant, smoking woman riding a motorcycle without a helmet while eating sushi -- tuna, no less -- and thought, "Really? She's going to be a mom?" Not everyone with children is fit to be a mother. The universe might not know that, but I do.

"Isn't that really expensive?"

Yes, it is. While we're talking about it, how much was that five-bedroom house you just bought, and how much did you throw down for that Lexus? My money is none of your beeswax, just like yours is none of mine. Unless you're treating at Panera the next time we meet for salads, in which case, thank you in advance.

"You already have one child. Why do you need another?"

This is not my situation, but I've heard this doozy gets thrown around a lot. A lot of parents want more than one child, mostly so family team sports can have an even number of players. Also, so there is more than one person to decide one day that it's best to move you into an old folks' home.

"Are you going to be like Octomom?"

Yes; yes I am. I am going to be exactly like her. In every way. I'm so glad to be having a conversation with someone who really gets me.

"Maybe you're just too old to have a baby."

You're never too old to give up on your dreams. You still haven't given up on wearing leggings as pants, and that has nothing to do with age. Just poor taste. So, thank you for inspiring me to reach for the stars!

"I bet when you stop with the treatments, you'll get pregnant."

OMG! I am going to get my Harvard-trained physician on the phone right now and let him know you've cracked the case. The conversation will go something like this: "Doc? It's me. Listen, we've gotta cancel the IVF. That's right. I know I have 18 follicles ready to burst, but this lady in my book club said the highest success rates do not come from medical advancements, but from doing nothing."

"Just enjoy your freedom!"

I know you truly mean well when you say that. I understand that couples without kids can go on vacations with much less planning than those who do have them. But making the argument that being able to pack up and head to a Sandals resort on a whim is a better place to be in than having rightful heirs to my prized snow globe collection is... wait. Let's call this one a tie.

"I could never give myself all those shots."

Really? Even if you had diabetes? Or were in anaphylactic shock from a stray almond shard and required an EpiPen? I'm not doing this recreationally. There is something wrong with my lady-plumbing, and I am taking medication to try to correct it. And it actually hurts less than the mental anguish I'm suffering as a result of your ignorance.

"Just relax and you'll get pregnant."

So, it's my fault, huh? And all this time I thought it was because my high FSH levels were indicating that something might be off with my egg reserve. You should really share this little nugget of wisdom with people on the kidney donor list, too. I they'll find it really helpful. Also, you win a seasonal fruit basket for being the 1,000th person to ever say this to me.

And the #1 thing you should absolutely say to someone going through infertility treatments:

"I support you."

I feel like I should explain something

We haven't announced anything officially yet (like on FB), but B and are in the process of buying our first house together.  Actually, it's this house, the one in the photo above!


We put in on offer at the end of March, and it was accepted the next day despite two other competing offers!  The night before B's surgery in early April we had our inspection, which went extremely well.  We did radon testing in the basement and the levels came back .1 higher than the safe level, so we spent a week or two negotiating back and forth and in the end, they agreed to split the cost of installing a certified mitigation system, which we will roll into our closing costs.


We meet with our mortgage lender later this week to finalize the paperwork and settle on a closing date, but we already put in notice with our landlord that we'd be starting to move out by July 1st at the latest.  We're keeping the apartment through July so we can take our time moving in, but for all intensive purposes, we hope/plan to be moving in to our new home around the end of June!


So...the reason why I feel like I have something to explain has to do with money.  I've spent four months blogging about the cost of infertility and talking about how hard it was to walk away from our planned IVF cycle because of the ballooning costs of it all... and here we are buying a house only a few months later... out of nowhere.


You see, B and I had planned to figure out the baby stuff first, then get safer cars, hopefully take another trip to Europe for his 40th birthday next year, and when all that was figured out, then start saving for a house - someday.  The house thing was on the ten year plan, not the two month plan.


So what happened?


The IVF saga happened.


If you'll remember, we pressured ourselves into trying to afford IVF before we had planned for it and way before we were financially ready.  Because of a misprint on a health insurance partner's website, they were willing to honor a severely discounted rate for me... but I only had a couple months to get it done.  Well, we hadn't thought we'd resort to IVF until we'd exhausted all other options, in two to three years maybe, but certainly not anytime soon.  


But when a chance in a lifetime like this comes around to get such a cheap rate on such an expensive procedure with such a better chance of helping us realize our dream of having a baby, well, we couldn't pass it up.  We had to try to take advantage of the situation.  So we spent the months of October, November, December and the beginning of January scrambling to beg, borrow, and steal the money we'd need to bring to the table for this discounted IVF procedure.


By January we had a weekend-long discussion about whether we could really do it.  No, actually it was whether we really wanted to.  We'd had to take out a persona loan of $7500 to cover the amount we'd be using from our FSA Health Spending Account because they only pay for medical procedures after the fact, not before.  We were planning to max out both of our credit cards to cover the cost of the medications we'd need.  We wiped out our savings on previous test & procedures and were living paycheck to paycheck.  It was a bad idea and it was all too much.  And none of it was a sure thing.  There was a very high chance that the meds would be even more expensive if my body didn't respond the way it should, or there could be other complications... and of course there was a 50/50 chance it wouldn't work anyway and then we'd have all that debt and nothing to show for it.


So we made the decision not to go through with it.  And then something kind of miraculous happened.  The Monday after we decided not to do the IVF, B's HR lady at work told him that the company hadn't processed the FSA Health Spending Account information yet for the year, and asked if he was sure he really wanted to have that much taken out of his paychecks...


He lowered it down to the cost of one IUI (about $1300) and had her cancel the rest.  Now we were really digging ourselves back out of the hole that the IVF drama had created!


We talked about paying off that personal loan of $7500 with itself too be rid that too.  Only we decided to wait and do our taxes first because last year we'd had to pay in $2000 and we might need it to pay our tax bill again this year (we'd pay off the rest with what was left and just pay off the remaining $2000 in about 4-6 months).


Turned out we owed money again.  $1300 this time.  Huh, just realized that's the cost of an IUI cycle.  Ironic.


Anyway, we were so mad at our lot in life.  We are two working individuals without a house or kids so of course our tax bill will be high.  Thing is, WE'VE BEEN TRYING TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT THAT LACK OF KIDS THING!  Ugh.


So the thought occurred to us, if we have no control right now over the kids thing... why not buy a house?  Thats something we can do to help lower our tax bill next year.  And it's still a buyer's market, with historically low interest rates.  Seemed like now was the perfect time to make this investment...


Plus, in the back of my mind, there were actually some fertility related issues to consider as well.  If we do have to do IVF down the road (if B's surgery wasn't enough for us...), at least the whole "saving up for a downpayment on a house" thing wouldn't be getting in the way of saving for IVF.  And if for ANY reason we wound up adopting, I'd think having a home for the child could only help us.  And finally, and this one is probably the least important but stuck with/stung me the most: a certain family member who shall remain nameless made the comment in a long list of reasons why should not do IVF (during that bitter weekend when we were ultimately deciding on our own not to go through with it anyway), that we should concentrate now on "creating a life for a child" and that the child would just come after we took care of that.  


Completely ignorant and insensitive.


This person wanted us to work on taking care of ourselves first, buy a newer & safer car for B, and buy a house. Then, and only then, think about a child.  This person didn't understand that time is ticking against us on that last milestone and that it won't magically (or through karma or whatever) happen just because we've got all our other ducks in a row.  But anyway, in the back of my mind I kept thinking throughout all this house-hunting stuff that at least this person can't make any more comments about "creating a life for a child" if we have to/choose to do IVF later.  And really, we probably won't be discussing our plans with this person anyway.


So, we chose to use that money from the personal loan to put down a downpayment on a FHA loan!  We'll be able to pay it off very quickly, and once that's gone our mortgage will be much less then our current rent, so we'll be saving money every month on top of the tax break we hope to get next year!  All money that can be saved up for other important things to consider in our future ;)


In the end, it really feels like everything happened the way it did because it was supposed too.  None of this house business would have ever been possible without all that IVF crap.  It's a very bright silver lining.  And now, not only has it all distracted me from my sadness and depression from our infertility, it is also lending me nothing but hope & opportunities to think about for a long time to come.  This kind of positivity is EXACTLY what I needed right now.  This all couldn't have happened at a better time.


We've been working through a non-profit agency that does mortgage counseling which I receive free access to as a benefit through my work.  This company has been amazing and helped us to find special loan programs out there in our city, which we couldn't have found on our own.  They also helped us find our AMAZING realtor too.  The whole process could not have been more positive.


And so between the meetings with this non-profit, our realtor, house hunting, putting in offers and counter offers, dealing with inspectors and negotiations, we've had a very busy Spring this year!  Now we are just waiting for things to be finalized and can't wait to move in around the beginning of July... 


July.


That's when we find out if B's surgery improved things for us and we can start trying for a baby again.  I think between the busyness of planning the packing, the move, the cleaning & unpacking, the decorating, and the house-warming parties... we won't really have much time for dwelling on the TTC process again for a quite some time.  But we'll be able to enjoy our summer knowing that we have nothing to think about but hope and possibility for a while:)


July.


I can't wait for July!

Maybe things haven't changed so much afterall

OK, so back in March, I wrote a post claiming that a "change" had occurred.  You can read the original post here: http://inconceivablestory.blogspot.com/2012/03/change-has-taken-place.html, but the point of it was that I was trying to say that I wasn't so sad all the time about my & B's struggle with infertility anymore.  I was even trying to come up with justifications for the idea that it might be better to live "child-free."

So, the truth is, I don't think anything was changing inside of me, and I don't think I'm ready to accept the idea of a child-free future at all.  You see, five days after I wrote that post, one of my best friends emailed me to tell me that she is pregnant again - with her second child.  So she'll have two kids, ages two and under, before B and I are able to conceive our first.

I wept. 

I couldn't help it.  I wasn't upset with her of course, I was just sad for myself.  You see, when this friend announced she was pregnant with her first child, B and I had not been preventing pregnancy for a while, but we had not yet decided to "try" for a baby yet either.  

A couple months after she announced her first pregnancy, B's and my one-year wedding anniversary rolled around and I graduated from grad school with my second master's degree.  It was finally time for my life long dream to come true.  We started trying for a baby.

By the time my friend's first child was born that Fall, she asked if I had "the itch" yet.  I told her I've had the itch since I was about twelve, and that B and I had been trying and were just waiting for that special month to arrive when we'd have the good news we'd been waiting for!  

Of course, in the back of our minds, B and I were already wondering if something was not quite right.  We'd only been "trying" for three or four months at that point, but before that we'd not been preventing for a year, ever since the wedding.  And I'd been off of birth control for medical reasons for about eight months prior to that... with many months of not being careful.  So really, we wondered, why hadn't we gotten pregnant yet?  Just lucky we hoped...

For months after my friend's baby was born I'd spend several days a week visiting her and her baby.  It was great timing because I was finally done with grad school, in my first real job, and finally had free time like a normal person!  Plus, I was able to get the baby fix I needed on a regular basis.  Her child was the most beautiful being.  She was such a good baby, and to this day lights up my world every time I see her.  The best way to describe her is as a perfect little blessing.  And now, as she is getting older, it is such a delight to see her growing and learning.  

So anyway, I spent a great deal of time with this friend right before and ever since the birth of her first baby.  She was such a considerate and thoughtful friend and always asked me how things were going with our own baby making efforts every single month.  Somehow she'd always ironically call on the the day I'd gotten my period.  Oh well, I'd joke, another month of drinking and banking sick time at work for my eventual maternity leave!

By midwinter that year, B & I still were not pregnant and we really started to wonder if there was something bigger going on that we should know about.  For young healthy couples they usually say to wait for a year of unprotected sex before testing for infertility.  But since we'd already been having unprotected sex for over two years (though we'd only been actively trying to time things out for about 6 months), B started getting tested... just in case.

It's best to get the male tested first because it's much less invasive than the female infertility workup.  It's best to rule out male factor infertility first, before you begin poking and prodding the female partner.  In January of 2011, we got our first analysis results back showing that B could potentially have low counts.  But it was January, and we are in the upper-midwest, and he'd done it at home, taken it outside to drive to the clinic, and delivered it to them about half an hour later.  We decided that there were too many variables and we'd get a second opinion.

In April that year we went to the only urologist in the area that specializes in male factor infertility - Dr. J.  B's sample came back slightly better this time, but still just on the cusp of the border between the range of what's "normal" and what's a problem.  We had another sample sent away to a lab out west somewhere... the only one in the country that tests for DNA fragmentation to see if that was our problem.  Again, he was right on the border between normal and the problem zone.

All this meant that B's swimmers could be the reason we hadn't conceived yet, but the evidence wasn't conclusive.  Dr. J did notice that B had varicoceles which could be causing his lower counts, but even that wasn't conclusive as many men get them who don't suffer from infertility.  He suggested we keep trying for 4-6 months and if we had no luck, try an IUI, which should give this counts the little extra boost they needed.  So we started up all the female infertility tests on me in the meantime (just to be sure there wasn't anything additional on my end to worry about while we were trying naturally), which continued throughout the summer.

We were still hopeful that there was nothing wrong, but as each month went by with one negative pregnancy test result after another, eventually my friend stopped asking if this was finally the month.  Instead she started asking how the testing was going and if we knew anything new that could help us.

That summer we did learn that I had a blocked fallopian tube, which sent me into a panic at first, until my OBGYN reminded me that I should still have a 50% chance of getting pregnant because most women ovulate from each side every other month.  Anyway, they were able to go back in and open it up and it's been open now for 10 months and guess what? Still no pregnancies.

Anyway, I've blogged before about all the testing and IUI's and it all ended with B having varicocele repair surgery last month.  Since it takes a man 90 days to produce new sperm, we are now in a waiting period.  We can't test to find out if the surgery improved B's counts until July, so no thoughts of trying for a baby until then.

Apparently, a good percentage of men who undergo this surgery see improvement after those 3 months!  Of those that don't, many of them will see improvement within about 6 months.  Of those that are left, some will have improvement within a year, and a few within two years after the surgery.  

So, we're hopeful about July, but shouldn't get our hopes up too high.  Or, maybe a better way to think about it is that we shouldn't lose all hope if the counts don't improve because there may still be a chance for things to get better down the road with a little more time.

So that's where we are at with the whole TTC thing, and that's the update (for now) on what we know about how B's surgery went.

But what does any of this have to do with my friend telling me she's pregnant and/or me saying things haven't changed so much after all?

Well, my point is that this friend telling me she was pregnant again kind of burst my bubble.  It brought back all the happy hopeful memories of when B and I first started out on our journey toward parenthood.  It reminded me of times when friends having babies was just exciting, not bittersweet.  But it also reminded me how long we've been TTC.  It reminded me of where we started out and all that has happened along the way to bring us to where we are today.

It made me think about the fact that she'll be done having kids before I even start.  Any of our hopes to be pregnant together were thrown out the window.  It made me wonder what it will be like to be going through the baby phase once all my friends are done with it and reclaiming their bodies, sleep, and free-time.  It made me think that once again I was behind all my peers in "life" (committing to a serious boyfriend, getting engaged, finishing school, buying a house), but this time not by my own choosing, and it made me feel sorry for myself.

I know I had written that wonderfully optimistic post about how something had "changed" inside of me and that somehow now other people's pregnancies weren't bothering me as much.  I do think that is still true, but not because something inside me changed.  And to be honest, my friend's being pregnant didn't "bother" me.  The reason it made me cry is not because she is pregnant again (because of course I'm very happy for her, and told her that immediately...and honestly truly meant it), but because it triggered emotions about myself that I hadn't been feeling for a couple months.  But again, not because anything had profoundly changed inside me to make me feel differently.  Rather, I think I was just distracted.

Distracted by B's impending surgery.  Distracted by work.  Distracted by the warmer weather and exercising the dogs.  Distracted by the biggest financial decision that B and I have ever made together....

Distracted by the process of buying our first house!

Stay tuned for more to come on that soon :)

Some Thoughts on Adoption

An old, very dear, friend of mine sent me the sweetest card last week.  It took me a while to process it because it was unexpected, but I have finally worked up the strength to address it now.


This friend was adopted.


She started out her lovely letter telling me she'd been reading the blog.  She told me how much her heart aches for what B and I have been going through.  She told me what a good Mommy she know's I would make.  She told me she admired my "I will be a better mother" post.  I love this quote from her letter:

"If we never experienced a rainy day, how could we ever appreciate the warm sunshine?"

With that being said, she also acknowledged that remembering such wisdom doesn't make the hard days any easier.


I also love that she said that while she agrees infertility doesn't define me, "it will shape you, cause you to grow and think in ways you have never known before, but it isn't you!"


She went on to tell me all the things I am in her eyes.  She reminded me of all kinds of childhood memories together (we've known each other since first grade!).  She told me she is here to support me, no matter what I need from a friend right now.


She left me with a few silly quotes to help me cope:

1. "The will of God will never lead you where the grace of God will not protect you"
2. "One day at a time... one day at at a time."

Then there was a P.S. at the end that kind of rocked my world for a minute.


She said that she wasn't even going to write this last bit, but in the end felt she needed to be honest.  She said that she completely resepects B's & mine feelings on adoption, but the sections in my blog on that topic where a little hard for her to read.


I had to go back an read what I had written, because I know there weren't any posts yet with a title like today's title... and then I remembered the post-turned-into-a-page, "What not to say."


At the end of this post I make two different statements about adoption, and now that I go back and reread them, they do come off as very dismissive and negative.  Rather insensitive actually.


I feel it is important to explain where I was coming from the day I wrote those words and a little bit more about where B and I are coming from on adoption in general.


B flat out doesn't want to adopt.  He is not interested in open or closed, foreign or domestic, baby or older child adoption.  He just keeps saying he is not comfortable with raising someone else's child.  He is afraid that if there are serious difficulties, handicaps, issues or whatever, that he won't be able to handle it, and would end up resenting me.  He says that if it was our genetic child, he'd feel differently, like it was more his responsibility to work through the tough times and so he'd be able to manage through it with our own child.  But if it was someone else genes and we didn't know what we were getting ourselves into, he'd regret it.  I hope I have articulated that accurately and with the spirit in which he feels.


Because it is all about the genes for him, not just the lifestyle of the mother or the environment of foster homes & orphanages, B is not interested in embryo adoption either.  For the same reason, he is not interested in sperm donation.


I don't know how he really feels about fostering, but I think he would be very concerned of my "falling in love" and pressuring him to adopt any children we welcome into our home/family temporarily, so I think he would be very against fostering as well, though I have not discussed this with him to the point of exhaustion as I have the adoption topics.


This has been very difficult for me to absorb and accept.  I know many people who have adopted or have been adopted, and I think it is a beautiful loving thing.  


I love babies.  I love children.  I am the oldest of four children, the oldest of seven grandchildren.  I grew up with my mother running a home daycare in our house.  I started babysitting other people's children when I was eleven.  I taught Sunday School.  I taught children's swimming lessons for years.  My friends with children always comment on how good I am with their kids and sometimes even call me the "Baby Whisperer."


For me, this whole infertility struggle isn't about our inability to conceive our own genetic child.  It would be beautiful and amazing, and world-changing (to us) for B and I to create a being that is part of each of us.  But I don't need to have my own genetic child.  I'd love to have the experience of being pregnant and giving birth, that rite of passage into womanhood.  But I don't need to be pregnant to feel like a woman, or an adult.


What I do need is to fill this empty hole that is growing inside of me.  This need to nurture, to give, to love something that depends on me for everything.  I need to be a mother.


I honestly believe I'd be very content and my needs would be beyond satisfied with adopting a baby.  An embryo adoption would allow me the opportunity to experience pregnancy and labor, but like I said before, I don't need all that.  I just want a baby.


Sometimes I even think fostering would help, though I'm sure it would be a very slippery slope toward wanting to adopt.  It would be hard to give them up once they've been part of our little family.  Maybe I'm putting words in B's mouth when I say he'd be afraid of me doing that... maybe I say he'll feel that way because part of me worries that I'll do it...


So when I wrote those comments about adoption, about how it's not for every one, about all the negative aspects and risks of it... I was trying to convince myself of these things.


I needed to convince myself that I too felt this way about adoption.  Or that it was ok for someone to feel this way about adoption.  I had to separate myself from my own true feelings about it because the fact of the matter is, I cannot adopt.  In the life I have chosen, I am half of a partnership.  My life is not just about me anymore, it is my and B's life together now.  He feels very strongly against something that I think could take away my suffering.  I have to accept that.


If I don't come to terms with and accept the fact that we will not adopt I only have two other options.  Continue to live in pain with tension between us, or abandon our relationship and pursue adoption without him.  The first is not healthy and won't solve anything and the latter is unimaginable and not an option at all.


I want a baby, but I want B more.  I can't imagine spending the rest of my days without him.  I can't imagine choosing to be a single mother over being a childless couple.  I can't imagine meeting anyone else that I could have children with and being able to love them the way I do B.  I never could have imagined myself not being a mother, but I also could never have imagined myself loving a man like B this much either.  Now that I have him, I don't ever want to let him go.  I'd rather have a good love story be the legacy of my life than an unknown future without the love of my life.


So that's why I have been struggling to come to terms with the fact that adoption is out for us.  Because it has to be.  Because I have to.


That's also why I put so much emotion, time, and energy into fertility treatments and options.  Because they are my only hope of having it all.  Of being the person I thought I was meant to be.  Of feeling complete as an adult woman in the only way I know how to...so far.


To all my friends and family who have either adopted or were adopted. I'm sorry if my comments in earlier posts/pages were hurtful to you.  I see now how insensitive they were.  I just want you to know that I wasn't thinking of anyone or anything besides myself and what I am experiencing with B when I wrote those.  I talk so much about wanting others to be sensitive to infertiles like me, and then I go and do something so thoughtless.  I'm sincerely sorry for any pain or discomfort I may have caused.

I'm blessed to have such sensitive friends

To the friend who happens to be a former infertile and I wasn't sure if she'd been reading my blog or not, but sent me a private FB message today warning that she'd posted a few pics of her twin infant sons upon request of other friends & family today: thank you.  Thank you for reading my blog.  Thank you for being so sensitive.  And thank you for being so thoughtful.  You are a blessing in my life and I'm so lucky to be able to call you a friend.  And I love your little blessings and can't wait to see them again soon!

Rough Week (Baby Showers Galore)

This is a picture of children's books that I collected at the library conference I attended in Dallas last month.  I discovered last year that you can find newly released books, sometimes signed by the others, at really good prices in the exhibitor's hall.  I picked up a few last year and gave them away as baby shower gifts so quickly that I ran out by Christmas.  I decided to really stock up this time around since so many babies are on the way this year.


I've got baby showers for 3 babies this weekend.  Two tomorrow (Friday) and one for a close friend on Saturday.  I was actually starting to get kind of excited for these showers when I went out shopping on Monday to pick up cards, wrap/bags, and a little something to go with the book or two I'll give each baby-on-the-way.  That is, until I got completely overwhelmed.


First I picked up some outfits, and the cards, and the gift bags.  I was doing good.  Then I remembered that another friend had had her second baby last Fall & I never sent a little gift because I was out of books, so I thought I'd send her one of the many you see in the picture above, but then I'd need a card, so I went back to pick one up.


While I was at it, I thought I should think ahead and pick up a card for another close friend who lives far away but is due with her second child in April, & I'd want to send a gift when the baby arrives.  So I had to pick out a really thoughtful card to go with the book I'd send.  But then I thought she was such a good friend, I should go pick out a little outfit or something too, so I went back over to the baby section...again.


Then I remembered that my husband's cousin in Germany just had their second child, and we should at least send them a card.  One of my books wouldn't really do since it would be all in English though, so I should pick out another outfit or blankie or something.  I picked out a sleeper and then went back to the cards...again.


Well then I remembered that another friend just announced her pregnancy and would probably be having some kind of shower soon, so I should just get it all taken care of while I was at it, because who knew how emotional I'd be in the future, and it would be nice to just have it all done now.  As I walked back to the baby area it dawned on me that I don't know the sex of this baby.  In fact, it's all so new that the mother might not even know the sex yet.  Anything I picked up now would not be very personal for such a close friend.  I decided I really needed to stop and just go home.  The anxiety was setting in.


My bill came to $58 and that's when the husband called warning me not to spend too much.  Really?  REALLY?  I needed 3, count them 3 shower gifts, cards, and wrapping, plus cards for 3 more babies, not to mention another two on the way this summer that I wasn't even worrying about yet!  Plus, it was all I could do to muster the strength to spend over an hour weeding through baby clothes, blankies, toys, bibs, etc., and now he was lecturing me about spending too much money on this project?!?  I was annoyed to say the least.


Plus, when I got home, I remembered that my cousin is due this summer too, and there will surely be a family baby shower for her soon too.


So that was all earlier in the week and kind of left me feeling anxious about everything coming up this weekend.  I'm feeling like I spent too much, like I should go to the dollar store to get cards and wrapping and return the stuff I got at Target.  I have to make snacks to pass and I don't have the energy to shop for and cook anything tonight plus work out with my workout buddy, but I don't want to buy some cheap processed junk food either.


Oh, and guess what? My co-worker just told me her daughter who has endo just got pregnant... one week after going off the pill.  Don't get me wrong, I don't wish this pain on anyone and I'm super happy for them that they didn't have to struggle with infertility like they assumed they would, but seriously?  Someone who went into TTC knowing they'd have trouble get's knocked up right away?  And we, who've been off the pill for 3.5 years and TTC for 1.5 years have no babies and no answers?  Come on!


I know this is kind of a whiny "ranting" post, but it's my blog and this is one of the things I created it for: getting my feelings out in a safe place.  I can't always walk around optimistic and hopeful and seeing the silver lining in things.  Sometimes I just want to vent.  That way, I can clear my head, put on a smiley face again, and go have fun at these showers this weekend.  Which, by the way, really are going to be fun.  I love party food and the one on Saturday will have many of my closest friends coming from all over a tri-state area, so I am super excited to hang out & spend time with everyone, not to mention dote on the parents-to-be who are going to be AMAZING parents and I can't wait to meet their little guy :)

Why Facebook is Not Always My Friend

In my recent posts: How to be Sensitive with your Infertile Friend and How to Tell Me You're Pregnant, I kept promising to write a separate post about why Facebook is such a double edged sword for people suffering with infertility.  

This was kind of a tricky one to write about, because its so difficult to explain what infertiles experience on Facebook in a way that doesn't make pregnant women and parents feel defensive about frequently posting about ultrasounds, baby kicks and bump pictures.  Its not like their is any easy way to ask women to temper their enthusiasm on Facebook if they want to be mindful of their infertile friends' feelings.  People can get really offended when it comes to their kids.

But, just as the intention of the two posts referenced above was to offer suggestions of how anyone can be sensitive to friends or family that they know are struggling with infertility, this too is an important post written in the same spirit.  I will try to explain what the infertiles go through, in effort to help others understand why what they write on their own Facebook walls can cause pain.

Before Facebook, infertile women could try to avoid pregnant people at work or social gatherings, limiting their exposure to triggers of bitterness or jealousy.  But that was when friendships were forged in person.  

Now, with millions  of people connecting on Facebook, infertiles can feel trapped.  If we detach from the social media networks (some people call it taking a vacation from Facebook for a while, or going on a Facebook Diet for your mental health), we may lose touch with our supportive network of friends and family.  We also can lose connections and updates from helpful resources, networks, and forums.  But if we choose to continue using Facebook, we are unable to avoid its frequent reminders - ultrasounds, baby kicks and bump pictures - of what might elude us forever.

Here is a hilarious example of what Facebook can look like to an infertile: (from a little pregnant)

Several people have suggested that I "hide" a person's updates in my news feed, if they become pregnant and their posts are too difficult for me to bear.  I have an issue with that.  If they are an acquaintance, fine, that's a good idea, but I'll probably never remember to go back and "unhide" them, so I'll have pretty much lost touch with them, and in that case, what's really the point of being Facebook friends anymore?

If they are a close friend, I have a serious problem with hiding them.  I probably won't forget to unhide them later, but that will be at least six to eight months of being completely out of touch with them on one of my main communication mediums.  If they do have anything else going on in there lives besides their pregnancy, I'll miss out on it.  

And if I do ever go to their page to catch up, I'll still be bombarded with all the stuff I was trying to avoid by hiding them in the first place.  Ok, you say, "just don't go on their page until their pregnancy is born."  Even if I decide to cut myself off completely from a hidden pregnant friend, I'm still going to see her posts on other friend's walls, with her baby bump or ultrasound profile picture, not to mention whatever baby-related things she may or may not be talking about in the post itself.

Even if you do hide all pregnant people as soon as you see that first announcement (close friends & acquaintances alike), it's not going to solve the problem.  The real issue is that you never know it's going to happen until you log in and there it is, at the top of your news feed again. Someone you knew in high school has posted her first ultrasound photo, a cousin has announced her two pink lines, someone who's infertility blog you've been following for a year has posted about her baby’s heartbeat, and you begin to cringe.  What you were expecting to be a quick glance through your personal Facebook feed has now rocked your day and left you staring at an unexpected pregnancy announcement.


And it doesn't end there.  I won't even get into all the "Mom Meme" posts like the one below, but  this is an example of why just hiding someone while they are pregnant doesn't solve the problem.  The pain goes on forever if parents are not sensitive to the way their posts continue to affect infertile friends and family.

The truth is,there's no shortage of people who feel pain while scrolling through Facebook: Chronically single people may envy friends' wedding pictures, for instance.  There have actually been several articles & blog posts about a Harvard business blog writer's post arguing that show that Facebook may be bad for your mental health.  There was also a research study done out of Standford recently on the same topic.


So, while many many many infertile women have bemoaned the confliction we experience on Facebook nearly every time we visit the site, we may have very well have caused similar pain for other people about other topics on Facebook.  But here's the difference, engagement announcements rarely come out of the blue.  If  a single woman's friend gets engaged, she probably saw it coming and was able to slowly prepare for it as their friend dated and got serious in their relationship.  Pregnancy announcements are different because most of the time, you don’t know when your friends are ovulating or if they’re trying to procreate.  Pregnancy announcements can come at 5 weeks or they can come when the person is 6 months along — you just never know.


Anyway, I'm hoping that this can begin to explain what infertile women are feeling about Facebook.  I'm not posting about this topic with the intent of getting others to change what they post on their own wall.  Rather, I'm just trying to create awareness, and if it leads some people who know people they are close to are suffering from infertility decide to use a little bit of a filter or censorship before posting every little detail of their pregnancy on Facebook because they would like to be sensitive to their friends' pain, then I'm proud to have helped them.


But more important than filtering yourself or exercising circumspection before posting your updates, is communicating with your infertile friend.  Acknowledge her pain, acknowledge your discomfort with the situation your pregnancy is causing to you to experience in your relationship with her (if there is discomfort), and ask her what she needs from you so you can continue to support her through her pain, while she supports your happiness.  


She may ask you to make a few concessions for her, or she may let you know that she needs to hide you for a while.  Whatever the case may be, please don't take it personally.  You already did the right thing by being a supportive friend and opening the line of communication with her, and she is lucky to have you in her support network.




A few other blog posts and articles (there are many, many more out there!) about infertiles and Facebook:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/10/24/AR2010102402856.html
http://chronichealing.com/facebook-fertility-fallout/
http://www.fertilityauthority.com/comment/1011172
http://www.stirrup-queens.com/2010/11/facebook-status-updates-and-infertility/
http://shine.yahoo.com/parenting/why-your-infertile-friends-may-be-hiding-you-from-their-facebook-feed-2407307.html
http://adeaconswife.com/2010/10/26/the-pain-of-infertility-and-facebook-envy/

http://www.alittlepregnant.com/alittlepregnant/2010/10/baby-face.html

Where did the last year of my life go?

It's kind of crazy, but I just caught myself wondering last night, where the last year of my life went?  I was thinking about how I started a new job about this time last year (I suppose having to submit my first annual self-evaluation last week contributed to this train of thought).  I was thinking about all the training I received for that new position.  I thought about all the things I accomplished those first few months and how it doesn't seem like any of those things were very long ago.


I think it's because I had so much going on in my personal life that I haven't had time to reflect on my work life and all the positive things I have been doing.  For example, last month, B and I were all like, "Wow, this time last year, we were just starting to seek out infertility doctors to assess our situation." Or this month it was, "This time last year B gave his first sample and we started done the long road of infertility testing."  And now I'm already thinking that a year ago next month we got the first results back that we may have MIF (male infertility factor).  And it just goes on from there.


A very dear friend just sent me THE MOST BEAUTIFUL email.  She told me she had read the blog and empathized for me and said all kinds of beautiful, inspiring, empowering things about me.  But the thing that stood out to me the most was that infertility does not define who I am.

At first, I was outraged.  I was like, "Yes it does! Don't dismiss what I am going through! Don't take this away from me too!"  It kind of took me back to the place that my MIL brought me, where I felt like those around me were in denial that B and I have a diagnosed physiological condition.


And when I look at all the energy and emotions I've been pouring into this blog in the few short days since I created it, it seems obvious how much infertility consumes me during every waking day.  This post itself demonstrates how much the past year of my life has been devoted to solving and/or coping with this affliction.  So I hope my readers can understand why at first I reacted so negatively to the comment my friend made in her email.


But now that I've had a day or two to think about it, I know that she was write.  I always knew she was writing it from a good place with the best of intentions, but at the time, I thought she was just sorely misguided.  Now I have come to realize that she was right.  Not only was she right, she told me something that I needed to hear at exactly the right time.  Before I let my feelings and even this blog where I am collecting those feelings  take over my identity, I needed to hear that there is so much more to me than the label of infertility.


Infertility has become a part of who I am (and after getting some great responses to various posts from former infertiles I am learning that it will probably always be a part of me).  But it is not all of who I am.  I am still the over-educated girl who loves to travel, is obsessed with all things British, adores horses and now her dogs (I always used to be a cat person but B is allergic).  I care about the environment and social justice for all.  I enjoy photography, scrapbooking, and now making photobooks.  I am a loyal friend, a sensitive daughter, and protective sister.  I have a very weird and unpredictable sense of humor and a curious soul. And now, people are starting to tell me again that I am a good writer too :)


I need to remember to let some of these other qualities shine through too.  I need to sprinkle them into this blog, and even more importantly, not neglect my first blog queenofshibas.blogspot.com because it was originally designed to showcase these interests.


All that said, I am glad I have this blog so there is a safe space to channel and collect the issues that consume and overwhelm me most of the time right now.  By getting them all out of my head and sharing them here, I don't have to carry them with me all the time.  I can concentrate on other things the rest of the time, and come back to them in a safe environment when and where I am ready for them.  AND, sharing them with those close to me in this way protects me from having to talk about them when I am not prepared to do so, because people don't have to ask me how I'm doing with everything anymore.  They can just read for themselves.

How to tell me you are pregnant

(content adapted from an old post on 

Acheiving Conceiving and this Huffington Post for Women article)

Tell me first.This one might seem to go against your intuition.  You might be more inclined to tell all your other close friends before me, and stall as you try to find a way to break the news to me.  The problem with that is, when I finally do find out, not only am I struggling to process the news, I'm also paranoid that you've already told everyone else and I was the last to know.  

I'll then have images racing through my mind of you telling everyone but me, and all of you talking about me behind my back, wondering, "how is she going to take it?," or asking you, "have you told her yet?." 

Like I said in my post about how to be sensitive, the one thing that's worse than facing your pain related to infertility is feeling left out  or that people are talking about you behind your back on top of it.  I'm hoping that by putting all my feelings out there in the open through this blog, those closest to me will  realize that I want people to acknowledge my situation, not ignore it, and then act sensitive accordingly.

Don't do it in personI will need to be sad for myself even while I am happy for you. It's hard for me to make my face look or my voice sound happy when I'm so conflicted.  Let me get my bearings and get used to the idea before I see you in person or talk to you on the phone.  Email is best because it is the most thoughtful and personal, but a private Facebook Message written lovingly could work too.  Do not text it to me, that's just cold and looks like you are avoiding me and don't want to take the time to consider my feelings.

Speak directly to me and acknowledge my pain This means, don't do it in a mass email.  Tell me (or email me alone) before you tell the rest of the world en masse.  Go ahead and spit out the news, but don't be overly giddy about it.  Tell me you won't forget how hard this is for me, and how you'll always support my efforts and be there for me. 

Don't tell me the length of time it took to conceiveEven if you didn't just "fall pregnant" and it took you seven months and this was a planned pregnancy.  It is never helpful to hear how long it took or how you did it.  If you've been doing treatments yourself, I should already know that and if you didn't share it with me before, a pregnancy announcement isn't the right time to share it with me now.

Acknowledge your discomfort (if you have some) So many times, a person simply wants their own situation acknowledged and admitting to your discomfort opens the door for both people to deal with the emotions immediately rather than having them build over the course of the pregnancy.

Keep it briefWhen you give the pregnancy announcement, provide the basic information.  Fill in the details as I ask you questions, at my own pace.  If I am not asking questions, that may be your cue that I am not ready to hear the information.

The sooner you find a way to tell me you are pregnant, the sooner I can process your happy news and get to a place where I can sincerely celebrate with you and everyone else around you.  This won't be comfortable or easy for either of us, but it is a fact of life that infertiles must endure.  While we may sometimes feel like we'd like to hide under a rock until we too are pregnant and can participate in the "normal" functioning world, the truth is that we have to face our pain and go on living through the midst of it.

Our infertility affects everyone around us, and unfortunately, as my close friend or family member, that includes you.  Treating the situation this way will help us all to cope with support and grace.  Just by reading this post you have shown that you understand that and care a great deal.  Congratulations! You my friend are one of the sensitive ones.

How to make a baby the IVF way

I received the link at the bottom of this post from my MIL (mother-in-law) the weekend we were trying to make our difficult decision about whether or not to cancel our IVF cycle.  She was strongly trying to persuade us not to go through with it (my mom on the other hand, was strongly in favor of us doing it, so she was a tough one to break the news to of our final decision, but anyway...)


My MIL's exact words to go along with the link were: "I found it overwhelming but you are younger and more in step with these scientific developments. Does not look like a walk in the park."


I know she was hoping it would horrify us.  But the truth is, I'd done so much research on this, that she wasn't showing me anything I wasn't prepared to see, or honestly didn't already know.


I know it frustrated her, but I got the exact opposite reaction to seeing this photo-journalism piece than the one she was hoping for.  My response to her was this, "

"Thank you so much for sending this thought provoking piece.  [B] and I looked through it all and read every caption together.  It really brought us closer together and provided a platform for us to discuss how we are both feeling about this new phase in our struggle with infertility.

I'm sure its obvious how emotionally invested I am in all of this, so it's not really surprising that I felt strongly connected to the woman in this story.  It was so comforting to read about someone else who is going through the same thing we are.  I couldn't believe how eloquently she was able to describe exactly how I am feeling about our struggle to conceive a child.  Her story gave me strength and courage for our own struggle, especially as things get tough and we hit new bumps in the road.

I was reading some of the comments below the article that other readers submitted.  Many were supportive but I was surprised by the amount of negativity she received for putting her story out there.  People were calling her selfish and vain, telling her she should "just adopt."  Don't people know that adoption costs even more than IVF, and it isn't for everyone, even if they could afford it?

I just don't think that people who have never faced infertility can understand the feelings of inadequacy, betrayal from your body, and utterly consuming sadness that many women feel when they are diagnosed with the inability to do the most basic of all human needs: to procreate.  Everything we are wired for is to drive us toward this one purpose, to reproduce. And comprehending and recovering from the knowledge that you are not able to do this would not come easily or naturally to anyone."

Let's just say that while I was hoping to elicit some kind of empathy, or understanding of what I'm going through, or frankly, even some acknowledgement of how difficult this must be for me emotionally... my email didn't get the kind of reaction I was hoping for.  I won't share the details of what followed, but it is important to note that it was not because of my MIL's influence that we chose not to go through with the IVF.  Of course her feelings matter to us, but we had actually made the decision to cancel the IVF before she even became that involved in the process.


Anyway, this is still a really powerful piece and worth a look, so I wanted to share it.  Because it still may be our fate at some point down the road:


http://www.slate.com/slideshows/double_x/infertility.html