A Quick Hello

This is just a quick hello to all my readers. Thanks for being consistent readers of this blog and for all your comments. I have a request. If you are a follower could you please mark yourself as such? Also, I'm looking for entry ideas. Anyone have a subject they think deserves some discussion? Let me know! :) Thanks guys! You're the best!

A Month In the Life of an Infertile

Not completely original… stolen from a website called “999 reasons to laugh at infertility”

But I thought it was hilarious because it describes my emotional roller coaster perfectly!

Negative pregnancy test.
Period.
Cry on toilet.
Cry in bed.
Depression.
Cry at work in bathroom.
Day 3, fertility appointment.
Wonder if you should try having sex during your period.
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex.
Friend announces she’s pregnant. Emotional breakdown.
Ovulate?
IUI?
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, (shooting blanks)
Two week wait.
Facebook friend posts a picture of her bump. Cry.
Baby shower invite. Cry about that.
Analyze for early pregnancy symptoms.
Google: “Right breast feels heavier than left breast. Am I Pregnant?”
Google: “Peeing a lot at night, Pregnant?”
Google: “Metallic taste in mouth. Pregnant?”
Inspect toilet paper after wiping hourly.
Hope for implantation bleeding.
Test early or wait for period.
Negative.
Mental breakdown.

Thank you

Throughout all of our fertility struggles, and through all of the heartbreak, my husband, Dallas, has been my strength. Steadfast in his faith and stable in his emotions, he has always provided me with a strong chest to lean on and shoulder to cry on. At my darkest hour, it’s been him and his faith in God that has saved me. He truly is my hero by every definition, and without him I wouldn’t stand a chance.

Top 6 things NOT to say to a woman trying to conceive

More than 6 million Americans are affected by infertility. Their pain is similar to the grief of losing a loved one, but this grief reoccurs month after month, sometimes year after year. Infertility is a tough enough rollercoaster ride without hurtful comments. Here is what NOT to say:
1. "Just Relax.”
It minimizes a diagnosable medical problem. These type of comments add to their stress. Would you tell someone with cancer to just relax? I didn’t think so.
2. “Enjoy being able to travel, sleep late, have free time, etc.”
Don’t minimize their pain. Being able sleep late does not provide comfort to someone who has always dreamed of being a parent. Your hectic life making memories sounds pretty good compared to an empty house wondering if you will ever be a part of “first steps”, soccer games, watching your child graduate. Would you tell someone who just lost their home how lucky they are now that they don’t have a lawn to mow?
3. “Maybe you aren’t meant to be a mom/dad.”
Do you notice all the abusive, neglectful, drug-addicted parents out there? Do they ‘deserve’ to be parents??? Enough said.
4. Why don’t you just adopt?”
Do you ask this of ‘fertile” couples? Why not? Many people dream of having a child that is biologically related to them, to experience pregnancy, and birth. Many infertiles become parents by adoption, but adoption is not easy or inexpensive. It is it’s own difficult journey.
5. “You should try In-Vitro, my naturopath, supplements, etc.”
Infertility is a complicated problem to diagnose and you probably do not know all the facts. Don’t play doctor and don’t give unsolicited advice. Anyone dealing with infertility has seriously considered or tried IVF, if they can afford it. In-Vitro Fertilization is very costly. If you are under 40 your chances for success are around 25% at a cost of at least $12,000 a try. Maybe for medical reasons they cannot pursue IVF. Alternative health practices may work for you and you can mention it, but don’t push it. You have no idea how much they have researched and tried to figure out what will work for their situation. It is disrespectful to push your treatment plan.
6. “Being pregnant isn’t fun”
If you are pregnant, do not complain about your pregnancy to someone struggling to have a baby. Leave these complaints for others that have children. It is painful enough to be infertile and be surrounded by women that easily get pregnant, to watch their bellies grow. Your infertile friend would give and do ANYTHING to feel your discomfort, weight gain, etc.

Sorry...

I just wanted to apologize to my readers about not posting for the last couple of days.  Things have been quite hectic.  My mom is here for a week, which is going to be so amazing by the way, I have test coming up, and lots of homework to catch up on.  But hopefully the next few posts will satisfy those who have had to go without their daily dose of me for last few days.  Enjoy!

Coming Out of the Infertility Closet

Infertility is a very personal battle. And this struggle…this fight…this abyss of sadness is something we tend to keep to ourselves. We don’t share it with the people who we see everyday or those who love us most. We retreat to our computers where we find amazing support on message boards and blogs from people who don’t know us and wouldn’t know us if they walked right into us on the street. But this is a huge thing that we go through. It is physically and emotionally draining. (I’m not even going near the financial implications.) It is a lot to keep from the people you love and share your life with, isn’t it?
The majority of people decide they want to have a child and get to make love to their partner in the privacy of their bedroom. They get to surprise the world with a pregnancy whenever they see fit to share it. We don’t get that. Our sex lives (or lack thereof) are out there for the entire world to know. (Doesn’t it feel like that sometimes?) We can’t have a baby the “old-fashioned” way. We need doctors and embryologists and anesthesiologists just to have a chance at having a baby. We get looks of pity and pep talks. (And who needs or wants those!? Or is it just me that gets really angry from that crap?) We get poked and prodded and used as pin cushions. We don’t get to surprise anyone with the news if …IF…we actually get pregnant. And we don’t even get definitive results…
I don’t know about you, but I’ve skipped lot…and I mean A LOT…of functions over the past two years because I couldn’t handle seeing kids. In a way, it feels like I’m hiding from my life. I hate that. How much of your life have you missed since finding out that you were infertile? How much of your struggles with infertility have you kept from the people you see every day or those you love? Telling our loved ones may make this fight easier to bear but telling them comes with questions…the ones about when you decided to have kids… what have you done so far…are any of us ready to answer those questions? Do we even have to?
I mentioned all this to a good friend of mine who is also struggling with infertility. And in all her infinite wisdom she said to me: “If they ask questions, you can say with impunity, ‘This is a really difficult process for us, and we’d prefer not to talk about it. I hope you can respect our wishes.’ And who knows, maybe having the visible support of your extended family will help us cope? Maybe in keeping it private, we’re giving ourselves a heavier burden to bear?”
And you know what? She is 100% absolutely positively right. How many of us suffer in silence daily only to cry to our computer screens because the people we talk to in cyberspace are the ONLY people who can even begin to imagine what it is that we are going through. We get by on virtual hugs instead of trusting those who can actually hug us. We go through the motions of every day life. We suffer through the intrusive and insensitive questions such as “Are you having kids?”
But the question remains…are we making this harder on ourselves then it needs to be? Maybe we should have a little more faith in those we love? Maybe we should come out of the infertility closet?

Infertility is the new Black

I'm just going to take a moment and rant about something I'm very upset about....

I have had a theory (long before we found out we were infertile) that when people have babies, they sort of lose their frontal lobes, you know that part of the brain the helps you understand other people’s theory of mind—that perhaps not everyone is quite as enamored with your little one as you are. This phenomenon can manifest itself as anything: from a 3 year old running amok during a funeral service to the endless clucking of mother hens about this birth weight and that milestone. I had postulated that perhaps the deep breathing of Lamaze, a few sleepless nights, or strong diaper fumes had somehow asphyxiated the brain cells of previously grounded and reasonable people. I had not considered that the force could be so strong as to extend to people whose child-rearing gong show was prefaced by a lengthy struggle with infertility. I expected more from these people.
I expected that the ability to empathize and relate to the struggles of the infertile would most easily be mastered by someone who has previously been an inhabitant of the Land of IF. In fact, this is not so. As I take my own private and painful journey through infertility, hoping to quell my loneliness in the warm blanket of shared experience, I google and ogle my way through infertility blogs. In my thirst for descriptions of the patience and emotional angst of infertility, I find myself constantly barging straight into someone’s online shrine to their miracle child. Pictures of said miracle baby (replete with birth weight and milestones) abound. Sorry, wrong room, my mistake!
My plea to the newly (and happily) fertile: Please, when the infertility door in your life closes, and for goodness sake shut down your infertility blog! Flex those frontal lobes and recall for a nanosecond how it felt to have no baby in your arms. Then, by all means start a new blog where you and your precious gift can cavort about in virtual nirvana without creating awkward and painful moments for the rest of us online who are still here. Infertility is clearly not your focus anymore, stop throwing it in our faces!
What is behind this behavior? This is another of my theories, but I think infertility is an inherently inwardly focused experience: we keep it secret; we scrutinize our levels and counts; we listen for every cramp, every twinge; we work in our bedrooms; we live in our underwear; we search (literally within ourselves) for answers. We look and we look and we forget that we are not alone. When people say goodbye to that time in their life, I assume it’s like childbirth, you forget the pain every time you look at the child—and that’s good. But no matter how good your memory, how big your frontal lobes, how inspiring you think your story is, it is your story, not mine and you have no business blogging about your parenting experience on a blog with an infertility tag line.

The Importance of Good Friends

So Valentine's Day wasn't the best day I've had this week.  Dallas was perfectly charming and bought me flowers and chocolates and took me out to lunch, but there was just little problem...THERE WERE PREGNANT WOMEN EVERYWHERE!!!  No joke! While waiting to be seated at Olive Garden I counted six, just in the entry to the restaurant.  And later, while we were enjoying or yummy bread sticks and salad, three more were seated at the table next to us.  Three! And two of them also had a toddler with them.  I'm beginning to think they are doing this purposely to taunt me.  "Nyah nyah nyah nah! Look at us with our huge bellies and swollen ankles and oh so sexy waddling.  We are goddesses of fertility.  Now eat pasta until you die!!"  It got worse from there. . .  There were four pregnant women in the movie theater, two walking as we drove home, and then more at the Valentine's dance Dallas took me to.  I just sat there glowering as a woman most likely in her third trimester held her belly and jumped up and down as they played "Cotton Eyed Joe."  "Yes jump, jump! Jump until it falls out."  ...Not literally of course.  So, to sum it up, I wasn't having the best day.  The next morning, I woke up still crabby.  I was fully ready to stay in bed and sulk all day long but a surprise visit from a good friend cheered me right up.  She came over and told me she had been thinking about me and wanted to see how I was feeling.  She also brought along some reading material that she assured would make me feel better...and guess what?  It did.  She reminded me that is was OK to feel the way I did.  It was OK to feel hurt and like I wanted to curl into a ball and just cry, because the next day, I'd make up for it.  So, I'm writing to tell my readers that if you are having a rough time, its important to have a really good friend that offers you their shoulder to cry on.  My husband it always there for me, but sometimes it helps to have someone else to talk to.  Someone else who is going through the same thing I am.  So thanks friend, you know who you are.  You were just what I needed to get me back on my feet. :)

Don't Dream Your Life Away

When you are so focused on the dream of a baby, it's hard to remember that there are other parts of your life that you held dreams for. As an infertile, it's easy to become one-dimensional and lose other parts of yourself. It's hard to battle the tunnel vision of baby-making, but we can be infertile and still continue to grow in other ways. Life is full of dreaming and when you are in the pit of despair and failure it's the perfect time to go fulfill something else on the list. No matter how small that dream might be, try to remember something else besides a baby you always wanted to do. Then do it.

Limbo Is Your Middle Name

One thing you have to get use to when being infertile is living in limbo. Living with the absence of control is one of the main skills to learn. It's also, I believe, one of the main culprits for making infertiles feel crazy. Everything about this infertile existence makes you live in grayness, not knowing if, when, why, how it will ever work to get pregnant. All the waiting, all the unknowns, the inability to plan, certainly made me pull hair out, cry, kick and scream. But we all know that if there is an art to being infertile, we can't go around foaming at the mouth or else we will get put away. So after my many tantrums, I had to dig pretty damn deep into myself. How do you remain sane in a world where 1 + 1 doesn't equal 2? I believe this is where inner strength, inner spirituality, and inner depth come into play. This world is full of horrible things. Having faith in something seems so foolish when your experience has shown you that it's impossible to trust anything. But what's the alternative? The darkness I faced was intense and poisonous.

Sometimes life forces us to relinquish control. From that, we have to somehow "just be." It's a state of mind that is hard to reach when there is so much pain, but if you can find spiritual moments like this, it will help. It's about survival. I am not a buddhist, but I know that one of it's principles is that life is about suffering. We crave certain state of affairs to not exist. Suffering ends when craving ends. This would be a state of enlightenment. I can't say I have the answer to getting there, but I do know that without a larger perspective on life, infertility will lead to deep depression and hopelessness that can be dangerous. The limbo won't go away, so if you are feeling the darkness, get professional help, find support groups, pray, meditate, dig deep.

TOP TEN WAYS TO PRACTICE THE ART OF BEING INFERTILE:

Doing this countdown has really let me think carefully about my identity as an infertile and what I can pass on to those just beginning this journey. This whole experience has really changed my life. It's given me a perspective and a certain understanding of myself that I am thankful for. Ultimately, the ability to set yourself free as an infertile person comes down to YOU. That's right, numero uno. Here is my number one all time top way to practice the art of being infertile.

 

10. Arm Yourself with Information, But Accept the Unanswerable.

9. Find Other Infertiles.

8. Tune out the noise.

7. It's okay to be angry.

6. Keep Trying.

5. Fulfill Another Dream.

4. Limbo is your middle name.

3. Remember Love.

2. Protect Yourself.

1. Forgive Yourself.

When I think about how important it is for me, after almost two years of pain, to be the strongest person I can for my future children, I can say without a doubt that I must forgive myself. As an infertile, we experience a sense of failure like no other. We are brought up believing that as a woman our body's innate role in life is to conceive and bear children. We are suppose to be on autopilot when it comes to this. Even for me, as a woman who firmly believes that our femininity is so much more beyond fertility, I feel a sense of betrayal that I am unable to accomplish this biological role. We try and try and try and we fail and fail and fail. At it's core, we battle feeling like this is all our fault.

But of course this imprisons us, puts a weight on our shoulders that is too heavy to carry for the rest of our lives. This whole top ten list has really culminated to an entire program of reorienting yourself. Not only do we have to keep re-strategizing on how to build our family, we also have to re-strategize how we see ourselves.

It's become clearest to me as I think about being a mother in the future. When life extends to another life, whether you biologically created it or sought help to create it, this new life is now your responsibility. One becomes two. Now all the regrets and all this anger and all the self-deprication has to take a step aside for this new person who needs you.

Forgive yourself for the miscarriages. Forgive yourself for the Big Fat Negatives. Forgive yourself for putting your career first. Forgive yourself for getting married later in life. Forgive yourself for not trying earlier. Forgive your uterus. Forgive your fallopian tubes. Forgive your eggs.

Forgive yourself.

Dear Mother Nature:

Since I apparently have trouble having babies, can you please take back this motherly figure that I've acquired over the last few years?

You're a peach!

Thanks

Just Lose Some Weight and You'll Get Pregnant

Doctors recommend that you should be at your ideal weight when trying to conceive.
Oh, so that's all we have to do? Just lose (or even gain) those extra 10 pounds? Super! That seems so incredibly easy. Perhaps, you were at your ideal weight 3+ years ago and then entered the wonderful world of infertility. You gained extra weight thanks to fertility drugs and then added some additional pounds due to a couple miscarriages. You would have hit the gym but your RE told you to refrain from exercise for a two week period.  And when you got your period and saw that negative pregnancy test, yet again, did you feel like eating healthy? NO WAY! You had cookies and a bowl of sugar for lunch followed by a bag of potato chips dipped in chocolate liqueur for dinner. But in a way, you have exercised! You've had sex almost 5,000 times in the past few years and then did acrobatics which included putting pillows under your bum and doing a full handstand.
A few years ago, you might have been at your ideal weight for conceiving and your bank account was also filled with money.

I Am More Than My Infertility

Anyone who has experienced infertility will tell you: it’s a rollercoaster. Whether you are involved in infertility treatment, or dealing with monthly cycles, it is seems inevitable that you will ride the waves of hope and disappointment.
No doubt, this is a difficult process. But there is something that makes it even harder than it needs to be: the story you tell yourself about your suffering.
For example, think back on a time when you suffered a loss or a setback. What story did you tell yourself about it? Was it filled with self-recrimination, criticism, negativity, fears of the future? If it was, your not alone. That’s the way it is for most people.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. Underneath your story lies is the truth of your experience, waiting to be listened to, waiting to be embraced.
Here’s a way to access this truth. The next time you are in a place of loss, take some time to be alone and quiet. Focus on your breathing. If your mind is rambling on your story, just notice it, and say, “Yes, there is the story.” Then put your attention on your body. Notice any places that are tight, uncomfortable, painful.. Breathe into those places, and let it be what it is. Then imagine something or someone you love unconditionally. Let your heart fill with that love, and then place that feeling in the place your hurting. Love that hurt in the same way. Continue for a minute or two.

Now notice your experience.

If At First You Don't Succeed

So last night as part of our date night that we do every week, Dallas and I decided to make chicken friend steak and custard pie.  The steak, much to my surprise, turned out perfectly.  It was so yummy.  The pie, that was another story.  I don't know what it was, but it sure didn't taste like my idea of custard.  Blecch!  And of course, this was through no fault of my own...it must have been a bad recipe.  So now we are stuck with an entire uneaten pie in our fridge which I am sure Dallas(he liked it a little) will eat over the period of a week and gain 15 lbs(the recipe called for 2 cups of half and half and a cup of sugar).  Now, as gross as the pie was, it didn't quite put me off the idea of trying to make it again, with a different recipe this time.  And, as funny as it sounds, this simple thing got me thinking about other things I have attempted in my life, that didn't...shall we say...go off without a hitch.  I would have to start over, and as frustrated as that made me, a perfect finished product always made it worth it.  So, I'm writing to encourage all my readers, particularly those who are struggling with a particularly difficult task, or who are just having a hard time, to keep at it.  Its a long, broken road but eventually you will get to the pot of gold, or rose garden, or pan of brownies...whichever reward is most appealing to you.  Mine would be a wonderful, perfect, delicious custard pie.  And next week, if it still comes out gross...well then Dallas will have to work off 30 lbs.

Walk On

Everyone has moments in life when they feel like the world is crumbling around them and nothing could get any worse.  A few weeks ago, I was at the deepest, hardest, stinkiest part of rock bottom.  The reality of my infertile was looming over me all the time, my testimony of the gospel was at its weakest, my relationship with my husband was strained because I refused to let him comfort me, and I was sure that nothing could be right again unless I conceived.  Its amazing how quickly things can brighten up again...and all it takes is the resolution to be happy, and make the most of you've got.  This last Sunday I went to church for the first time in months. It has been hard for me lately to attend all my meetings because everywhere you look its swollen bellies, baby carriages, and diaper bags.  I mean, you get that anywhere, but in Provo, UT, and especially at church, pregnant women are a species apart.  Anyway, I finally screwed up the courage to go last Sunday, and guess what...I was okay.  That green monster of jealously that takes control so often was gone, and I could honestly be excited for those women who were pregnant.  It was a wonderful feeling, and one I hope I can hold onto....although I'm pretty sure I will continue to get discouraged at times.  Anyway, my point is that when things are going badly, we need to remember to look forward to a future where things are happy again.  Nothing ever stays wrong that long....so walk on.