My last National Infertility Awareness Week post ☺
After 8 long years of doctor appointments, tests, bloodwork,
injections, pills, ultrasound wands, bruises and knots in my rear, sleepless
nights, time off because we couldn’t go on, a lot of money, tears, sadness,
anger, bitterness, jealousy, depression, pain, failure to respond to Clomid,
failed IVF cycle, no success adopting through our church, failed natural
supplements and diets, suffering from male and female infertility – we finally
heard those words…“Congratulations, you are pregnant!”
We were blessed with several donor embryos through Embryo Adoption
late last year, just as we had given up hope. We were in total shock to finally
be expecting, I remember falling to my knees in heartfelt prayer after that
phone call from the fertility center. I WAS PREGNANT! There was a little
person, or two, growing inside of ME. It was finally our turn. My lifelong
dream of becoming a mother was finally coming true! I would finally be able to
see my husband lovingly hold OUR baby. That was something that I had ached to
see for years. Growing up I never wanted to be a fancy business woman, a famous
singer, or a gifted athlete – I just wanted to be a mother. I wanted to stay at
home and nurture and love my babies. It was all finally going to happen at long
last! For the next several weeks, I dreamed of finally being able to use all the
baby stuff I got from my “hooray we’re on the adoption waiting list” shower a
few years earlier. We were finally going to get to use our baby names. I felt
cool, legit, walking through the stores in my new maternity pants. I was one of
“them” now. Sure, I had some spotting and had to take it easy, but everything
was going to be fine. The Lord wouldn’t have finally given us a baby if things
weren’t going to work out, right?!
But, our happiness was ripped away from us at 10 weeks of
pregnancy. While we were hoping to hear it was twins after our 2nd
ultrasound, we instead got to hear…“I’m so sorry to tell you that there is only
one baby and it no longer has a heartbeat.” You could have knocked me over with
a feather. My brain couldn’t even process the news at first. I sat silent and
confused on the phone. How could this have happened? I didn’t even cry during
the phone call because I was so shocked. I was home alone and just sat there on
the couch for a few minutes before calling my husband and mom. My heart sunk,
and my belly suddenly felt very empty. At our follow up appointment, we found
out that I had been carrying a baby that had passed away around 8 weeks,
and that my body didn’t want to willingly miscarry. I would have to take painful labor
inducing meds. Nothing like having labor pains and contractions for several hours,
only to not get a baby out of it! My heart and mind will forever be scarred
with the image of what was left of our tiny baby.
All the while, my younger sister was also pregnant and is
due only 2 weeks after I would have been. And they weren’t even trying. It was
a total shock to them. While it would have been so easy to think, “This is so
unfair! Life is so cruel! I’m the oldest and the one struggling to have a baby,
so I should be the first to give my parents a grandbaby!” But I am by some
miracle just the opposite. Having jealous or bad feelings toward my sister and
her husband would have been a common response in this situation. However, I am truly happy for
her! I am truly happy that she is making me an aunt for the first time on my
side of the family. I love her so much, and this sweet little one on the way
too. It’s not their fault that their bodies work right, that’s how it’s
supposed to be for heaven’s sake! And it’s not my fault that we won’t get to see
our two little babies play together, these things just happen. Ours was meant
to return to our Heavenly Father for a greater adventure. I honestly can’t wait
to see her belly when I visit this summer. I can’t wait to find out what she’s
having. I can’t wait to meet and hold her baby for the first time. Instead of constantly
fuming, isolating myself, and being miserable for months (or even years) to
come – I bought her the “what to expect when you’re expecting” book, the gummy
prenatal vitamins that I loved, a few maternity clothes that I thought were
comfy, and a belly band. I make her text or email me pictures of their
ultrasounds, and tell me everything that the doctors say about the baby. She is
due around my birthday even! This situation was supposed to occur for a reason.
Maybe it’s the only way that I could get through the loss of our baby, is to
support her and be excited for the arrival of her baby?! It’s much to other’s surprise
that I am able to support my sister so happily and be excited for her. It’s
amazing I’m not sitting around feeling sorry for myself and hiding behind a mountain
of pain. I have heard “I’m so sorry, Megan!” many times lately as others heard
she was expecting right when I miscarried. But I’m not sorry! I’m thrilled one
of us works right, and that she gets to experience motherhood without the
struggles of infertility. I have prayed for years that my siblings wouldn’t be
plagued with this same horrible trial.
For too many years we put on a happy face or said
congratulations to others when we truly didn’t mean it and were dying inside. I’m
not saying that I haven’t cried at all over this, or that the thought of, “We
should be experiencing all this right now too!” hasn’t crossed our minds. But I
am not angry. Not at her, this baby, or God. I am making this situation a
positive one, ME. It’s my choice. A situation like this can make or break you I think.
You can choose to be included in the experience, happy, and have loving
relationships with your family and friends – or you can go to a dark place, be
distant, and bitter. The latter may seem like the logical thing to do when we
are suffering and hurting, but we are only hurting ourselves more and
prolonging our road to recovery. I don’t know about you, but I am personally
sick to death of the dark places. Sick of feeling left out and abandoned. My
husband recently said that maybe all of our friends in the past that have quit
talking to us and inviting us to things, wasn’t only their doing. Maybe we kind
of willed it, or contributed to that outcome by the sadness and jealousy
rolling off of us? Sure they felt bad for us, and even felt guilty for being
able to have children so easily. They probably didn’t want us to be the only
ones at their parties without kids. But it was just the opposite. We needed to
be included. Not forgotten just because we suffer from the “I” word. But
everyone is different and they couldn’t have known that we felt that way. If we were partly
responsible for being left in the dust, I want to change that. I am not happy
with how a few of the last eight years have felt. We need to be around others,
including children. We find joy in it now. Don’t be afraid to tell your friends
and family what you can (and can’t) handle. We regret that. Don’t wait for them
to ask, because they probably won’t. It’s easier to just avoid you, especially
if you never voice your desires.
I know it’s a long road, and some of you may think I sound
crazy because this isn’t where you are in your struggle right now. But I just
wanted you to know that it IS possible. I AM happy for my sister! I’m NOT angry
at our loss and her gain. Only peace from God and 8 years of infertility
experiences have made this possible for me. I know many that can’t be around
pregnant friends, go to baby showers, and not help but hate Fertile Myrtles. It’s
only natural. My heart goes out to you. I have been there. I used to cry at the
sight of the baby section in department stores and at ads in the mail and
online. I had to turn off my Facebook a few times, have avoided church in the past, and
even hated God. Hearing a newborn cry used to make my chest instantly tighten
and my heart would hurt. I used to throw formula samples I randomly
got in the mail into the trash can as hard as I possibly could. We used to sit
around and think of the many unfit, abusive, lazy, and neglectful parents out
there. They had no problem having kids. Why can they have kids and we can’t?! It’s
so unfair, why would God do this to us?! Why does every moment have to be so
hard?! I used to obsess over it, lose sleep over it, dwell on it. Constantly. To those who are
experiencing this, I promise that things get easier with time. Time doesn’t
take away your pain, but makes it more manageable. God will comfort you if you
let him fully into your life. There are still hard days. I’m not saying that everything
is perfect. I still have to pray constantly for hope, peace, happiness,
empathy, and strength to be the person that I want to be, NOT the person that
struggling with infertility can turn you into.
Many of the stories I have read on NIAW this week have given
me the hope, strength, and peace that I desperately needed. Everyone’s story is
different. Everyone deals with grief differently. It is a personal thing. God
has a special and different plan for us all. Some don’t get their “happy
endings” or “rainbow babies” for many years, or ever. It’s not something that
people want to hear or talk about, but it is important to acknowledge. It is
reality. Everyone’s struggle is different, but everyone still needs someone. Just
because you have experienced loss, doesn’t mean that you can’t still have
normal relationships. I congratulate those families that have conquered
infertility. I pray for hope for those who are still aggressively pursuing
their dreams of a child (or simply just struggling to continue), and wish for comfort
to be with those who are living a “childfull” life, as we are for now. We are
not childless. We love our nephews, niece, my sister’s baby on the way, friend’s
children, etc. We still have children to love, skype with, talk to, and get
birthday and holidays gifts for. We are not alone. We can still support those
that don’t struggle with infertility – and if we chose to allow it, they can
support us too. My sister knows how upset I would have been if they would have
kept her pregnancy from us. It’s often more painful to be the last to know
things like this, rather than hearing it right away. She knows that I want to
be a part of this baby’s life, and it’s because I told her that. We don’t have
to let grief and jealousy rule our lives!
