Thursday, November 12, 2015

No Matter What


This November marks 4 years of trying to start our family. 

Every month that my body fails me, thus breaking my heart, I feel like my prayers, pleas, and endless efforts to start a family are being ignored. Like it is all a huge waste of time, money, and false hopes. I wonder why instead of pulling out our savings to do another round of artificial insemination, why are we not buying ourselves a new coffee table, rug, or couch instead? Why aren't we paying down our debt faster and saving up for a relaxing tropical vacation or European trip instead of saving for inVitro fertilization? Men are that they might have joy, right?

Years of unexplained infertility is enough to make anyone want to lose their mind, pound their fists, and scream "WHY?!" from the rooftop. Sometimes I feel SO angry, and SO hurt, and I just want to have an insane, justified, freak out moment of destruction. Or scream into a pillow and cry my guts out for hours. Other times I feel so numb and disconnected, like I'm just an empty shell, aimlessly living day-to-day life and monotonously going through the daily grind. I almost wish there was something wrong with either of us, so that I could at least have some closure or understanding as to why I'm not allowed to become a mother, and why Vance isn't allowed to become a father. I could cope if I knew it was because I had endometriosis, Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, or bad eggs. I could cope if we knew that Vance had a low sperm count or low motility, making it nearly impossible to get pregnant. Because then there would at least by an explanation to the WHY.

(Side note: a sonohysterogram performed a few months ago by my new doctor revealed that the possible heart shaped uterus my last doctor noticed in my hysterosalpingogram the summer before (1.5 years ago) was not heart shaped at all. My uterus is completely normal folks. Yay??)

But when you've heard too many times to count that everything looks so good that the possibility of twins is likely, just to discover a couple weeks later that your womb is still as empty as your wallet, it does a number on your soul. When your family and friends announce for themselves the one thing you have been pleading for for years, it stings. It feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, and makes you question for the millionth time why you're the one being left out in the cold.

That first instant of cramping, and that first drop of blood crushes me every month. It never gets easier.  Sometimes I refuse to go to the bathroom even though I know my unwelcome guest is here, just because I feel like if I can't see it yet, it doesn't have to be true.

I'm tired of calling a nurse every time my period starts, and having to time medication, ultrasounds, doctor visits, intercourse, shots, and sample collection perfectly in order for a possible pregnancy to happen. It's exhausting! So much time and effort is taken into preparing that special moment the doctor will inject you with your husband's semen. It becomes especially unsatisfactory when your doctor is performing the IUI which will hopefully get you pregnant, and your husband can't even be there to hold your hand. I am tired of being poked, prodded, tested, examined, and having an audience surround me during what should be my most intimate and private moments. At least it doesn't scare me or make me nervous anymore. I know what to expect now, and I just go with it. At this point, I've accepted that the conception of our child most likely won't happen in a traditional way, if at all.

It's easy to be angry at God, and to question why He is being so unfair to a good couple desiring and pleading to be parents, while so many children are born into unsuitable homes or situations. When I get feeling this way, I think about how blessed I am, and just how much my Lord and Savoir have done for me. In the past year, Vance graduated from school, and was lucky enough to land a teaching job almost immediately. He was told by many of his peers that it can be extremely difficult to find a job in his teaching field, and that it could take a few years before he finally got the job that he was looking for.  So we kind of expected that he might be substitute teaching for awhile. However, Vance was able to start this past August as a Health and Fitness teach at a charter school in South Jordan, and we don't take for granted how blessed he was to get the job. It truly was heaven sent! Especially after a hard year of no second income and trying to pay for school.

Plus, Vance and I have each other. We are so grateful for that. We just celebrated our 5 year wedding anniversary, and words cannot express how much we love each other and love all of this time we have had alone together. Just the other day, I was so down, I sent Vance these texts at work, and this was his response. I married a good, sweet, loving man.


In the past 8 months we also moved out of our dark, spider and mold infested basement apartment, and into a gorgeous new condo that we love. We became homeowners, got rid of Vance's gimpy old car that was borderline too dangerous to drive, and got a new reliable car that we love cruising around in. We have also, through a series of events related to our infertility, been led to the right doctor for us. Luckily with two steady incomes (for the first time since we've been married), we are able to move forward more aggressively with our baby endeavors, and are working hard to get a grant that might hopefully help cover some of the expense of IVF. Our doctor hasn't gotten us pregnant yet, but he is very thorough and caring, and we trust him. He is one of the best reproductive endocrinologists in the state, and we are grateful that we were led to him.

One of my favorite LDS church leaders and speaker, Dieter F. Uchtdorf said, "We can choose to be grateful, NO MATTER WHAT." In the spirit of November, Thanksgiving, and just being given this life in general, I thought it would be appropriate to share this thought. I journal about my trials of infertility not to show others how hard my life is, or to get sympathy, or to complain, or anything else of that sort. Nobody has an easy, perfect life. I write these things down to help me cope, and to express what I am going through and how I am feeling. Sometimes I have months of pent of emotions that I need to release through thought. I journal about infertility to reflect what I am going through in life's journey, and when I am going through it. And honestly, if I write it down, it feels like rocks are lifted off my shoulders. Even though it doesn't change my situation, writing about it lightens the situation for some reason.

I like to believe that I have an attitude of gratitude for most things in life. Yes, life is hard and often gets me down and puts me in a crummy, grumpy, mean, or sad mood, but overall, I am a grateful and happy person. It doesn't take much to brighten my day, and I am a lover of the small things in life. 

Living a childless life is not what I ever envisioned for myself, but I have learned time and time again in my short earthly existence, that life rarely turns out quite like I want or expect it to. That doesn't mean it can't still be great though. And sometimes it (life) turns out even better than it would have, had it gone how I originally wanted it to.

I know not if I will ever become a mother, but I believe I can still choose to live a full and happy life if children are not granted to me. Will my heart always ache to be a mother? Yes. Will this be the last time I write about how I grieve, cope, and deal with infertility? Nope. But I understand that there are other positive things I can focus on in life if kids just aren't in the cards for us. If years more go by and we are still a family of 2 who decide not to spend any more of our money and efforts on infertility (or adoption), we could travel more. I could maybe eventually leave my job to focus on my art dreams, brush up on some piano lessons, read more books, be the fun aunt, and focus more on my husband, family, and self, etc., etc.  

But.....if children are indeed granted to us one day (I hope with all my heart that they are) we will be over the moon in love with them!