... and when I say "faces" what I really mean is emotions. And "infertility" is really referring to this most recent hurdle, IVF #1. I had so hoped that I could just call that IVF and not have to number it because we wouldn't have to be moving on to #2, at least not until baby #1 was here. But alas, my plans don't seem to be perfectly aligned with God's just yet.. I guess that's just part of my sinful weak self. I do trust that He has a perfect plan. I know that I say that a lot, but again, my sinful, weak, doubting self needs to be reminded of these promises.
A bookmark from the book I was reading this morning inspired this post... just a simple little bookmark, but such an impact on my thoughts and now this post. The bookmark reads "Laughter is the shortest distance between two people." -Victor Borge
**On a side note: If you don't know who Victor Borge is, then you must look him up. He is quite the comedian from way back... one who I was only introduced to after I met my husband who is much older and wiser at 40 than my 32 years can usually handle!:-)**
At any rate, that quote got me to thinking about the gammet of emotions that have colored our life over the last few weeks. The same emotions, I guess, that have shaped and changed us over the last 4 years as wel,. Why would something about laughter get me thinking about that? After all, most people in our situation would not think of laughter as being an emotion that colored their journey. Obviously if you have read even one of my posts, you know that the "colors" of our journey have been marred by a lot of grays and blacks and dark colors and not as much of the sunshiney colors of the rainbow. However, laughter is an important part of any journey. It breaks the mood, it makes you realize that you are still alive, it reminds you that you can still have joy in the midst of whatever journey you find yourself on.
I am so thankful for my husband. Heath has been a constant source of joy for me. We laugh a lot even in the middle of some of the most painful things we may ever face. Granted, he has been the reason for many of our spouts of laughter and often I'm laughing at him rather than with him, but he takes it all in stride. God certainly knew I would not survive this journey without laughter and I'm so thankful he saw fit to bring me laughter through my husband's goofy antics. Heath is such a good sport, even if he won't admit it.
After our IVF results, I was glad to be able to get away. My emotions ranged so deeply from one end of the spectrum to the other that I was unsure just how I would react at any given time. I was terrified, and still am a bit, to have to face the many questions at church. We didn't share our journey with everyone, but word did get around, and there are so many people invested in our journey and the results. It's embarrassing to admit that I failed... again. It's hard to have to face people who spent time and energy praying for us, only to report that NO, I am still not pregnant. The emotions ranged from anger that we weren't pregnant, to sadness that people I loved had to be put in the situation, to a realization that they asked because they cared, to relief when they didn't ask, but then in the next minute feeling upset that some people seemed to treat it as nothing when it was so HUGE to us.
God has been faithful with each emotion I was reminded of a song, a verse, a promise from my Father. Something that would bring me out of my funk and into His arms. He taught me that I did not fail. He is the one in control of the situation, He is the one who determines when our little one will be formed, and all of what He does is LOVE, so I did not fail. My responsibility was not to make a pregnancy happen, my responsibility was to follow doctors orders, which I did to a T, and to trust that the Lord had our best interest in mind.
He taught me that the topic was awkward for others, just as it was for me. It hurt them too and it is difficult for them to ask knowing it could cause us pain. He taught me that just as I can not understand the woes and complaints of parenting, they can not understand or know how to react to the pain of empty arms and the heartache of being a mother without a child. He taught me that that is exactly what I am, a mother... at heart. I may not have a child of my own, but I am a child of His and he brings little ones into my life on a daily basis. Children that He has given me the opportunity to love and care for and teach about Him.
And lastly He taught me the importance of not fretting over what He didn't allow, but focusing instead on what He did allow. From the beginning I said "I just want to get some eggs, so that we are on our way." I felt like even if we didn't get pregnant this time, if we had some good viable eggs that fertilized, I would feel encouraged. It didn't take the sting away when we found out this fresh cycle didn't work, but it is encouraging to know that God did allow my body to produce not one, not two, not even three eggs, but TEN mature viable eggs. Of those eggs, He allowed NINE of them to fertilize, TWO of them to be transferred, ONE of them to be ushered into his arms, and SIX of them to continue to grow and make it to the freezing stage. SIX! That means that HE, in His grace has granted us at least one more opportunity.
Oh Father it is so easy for us to dwell on what is not going right in our lives. It's easy to remember the pain and the hurt and to forget the way that you DID work in our lives. Forgive us for doubting your love and faithfulness to us during this journey. We are so thankful that your Perfect timing is reigning, even though that brings us pain right now. We are grateful for the six tiny creations you have made that are waiting for our next round. We are amazed by your faithfulness even in the midst of our doubting. We are strengthened every day by the people you put in our lives. Praise you God, for what you've done in this cycle and what you will continue to do in the days, weeks, and months to come.
2.17.2012
2.16.2012
A lot has happened in one week and I'm feeling like it's time to share. Not so that I can read everyone's reactions or endure everyone's pitying stares, but rather so that I can feel normal again. As if I even know what normal is.... for goodness sakes, that's scary to say and oh so true. Normal for us lately has been doctors appointments, syringes, needles, ultrasound probes, bedrest, heavy hearts, tears, zombie-like actions, pills, vitamins, gauze pads, alcohol swabs, thousands of dollars, maxed out credit cards, and a lot of nothing that felt normal. Or maybe it did feel normal to us and that's why I feel so out of sorts now. With no meds, no appts, no needles or vials of blood, I don't quite know what to do with myself. Perhaps that's part of the sadness that has settled in around my heart. Perhaps with the lack of those things, I realize just how abnormal our life was becoming. I think back over all that we've been through and I don't know if I can even remember a time when we weren't fighting for our fertility. I'm sad that since we've been married, we have been fighting to have a child and I wonder if that has been good for us. I won't deny that we have grown in our love for one another and I can't dismiss the fact that we are who we are today with the faith that we have today, because of our fight. But I also can't help but wonder, what a normal marriage that's not fighting fertility looks like. What is life without that fight actually like? I'm convinced that if it's not fertility, it's something else that is a struggle, but infertility is such an emotional battle... it's so difficult!
One week ago today, the day before Heath's 40th Birthday, we found out that our first round of IVF was unsuccessful. I won't lie, we felt completely defeated. Even as much as we have learned to try not to get our hopes up, we felt like we hit bottom. I don't remember feeling that way with other failed cycles. Our nurse called us around 3:30. Heath had taken the day off because he wanted to be here when they called. Each hour that passed as we waited felt like an eternity. And each minute that passed, I doubted a little bit more. I knew as soon as the nurse answered that the results were negative. Somehow I realized that if they were positive, she wouldn't have sounded so solemn. I'm pretty sure that's a tough call for them to have to make and it made me sad that she struggled with it. As soon as I hung up Heath and I crumbled into a heap of sobs that I'm pretty sure woke little Aurelia up. Heath was strong. He went down and got her. I love her so much, but it was a difficult hour and a half until her mommy came to get her. She was a reminder of what we may never have. I think all the emotions that had been working up over the month of appts and meds and procedures and what not, finally came crashing down on us. We grieved... it felt/feels like a death in the family. I guess if you want to get technical, it was since the embryos they transferred are considered LIFE. We both wanted to crawl into bed and sleep away the pain and we probably would have, had we not planned to celebrate Heath's b-day with my family at Logan's that night. When we planned the dinner, we had made clear that we reserved the right to not attend, depending on the results of our test. We knew that we would not feel like celebrating if things turned out as they did. I called my mom to let her know we weren't coming and I couldn't hold back the sobs... with a little coaxing from her, we did go to dinner and I cuddled with my nieces and nephews, but my heart was certainly not there. I'm pretty sure I did not taste the food that I was eating. It was important for us to keep moving, try to carry out normal activities, but it was incredibly painful.
We slept good that night. We were mentally and physically and emotionally exhausted from the last month of activity leading up to that day and those results. I gave Heath his b-day present that night because I wanted to cheer him up. I had secretly gotten him the day off work. He later told me, that after Thursday's results, he was going to call in anyway... he just didn't have the energy to put in a day's work. I also let him in on the secret gift/trip I had been planning for months. We were headed to his frst Red Wings game and then we'd stay for the weekend and do whatever struck our fancy. I did not know when I started planning this trip away that it would come on the heels of such devastating news in our baby department, but God did. We didn't come back all refreshed and ready to jump back in the saddle, but we were able to hide away where noone knew what we were sad about and we didn't have to talk about it to anyone besides each other and then only if we decided to. And we didn't really. We said a few passing comments here and there, but for the most part we stared blankly at whatever it was we were watching on TV; we ate, but didn't really taste the food, we enjoyed the heat from the fireplace in our room, but we still felt numb; we pressed on through the days, but couldn't wait till night when we could fall into bed and sleep away the pain. Our one redeeming activity, was the Red Wings game. We had a fun time at the game, forgot about our pain, talked with the season ticket holders next to us, and lost our voices as we cheered the Wings to victory. It was such a blessing.
On Saturday, we headed to Cabela's for a couple of hours. We LOVE that store... even if we don't have any money to spend there. On our way there, we got news that Aunt Lynn had passed away. Apparently when it rains, it pours... isn't that what they say, whoever "they" is.
Sunday, still feeling in a funk, we headed back home, not really ready to face the day or the week ahead. We were still exhausted and just wanted more time for us. More time to process what we'd just been through and the results and where we were headed. More time to avoid having to face all the pitying stares, the hugs, the cliche phrases. We just weren't ready... not yet. God had different plans. Things that were meant to heal even though as they were happening, I kept thinking "what in the world is He thinking?". On our way home from Detroit, we were blessed with an opportunity to spend time with our family at Ada Bible Church for our little nephew Logan's dedication. It is in actuality not really a dedication of the child, but more of the parents to raise their children in a godly loving home that points them to Christ. As we sat in the parking lot waiting for the family to show up, I will admit my nerves were on high alert. I prayed for strength because I knew that going to a child dedication just days after being told we didn't have a child on the way was going to be a pretty difficult place to be. We wouldn't have missed it for the world, but I can seriously tell you I was second guessing the wisdom of us being there. After all, the little room we would be in, would be filled with energy and noises that only children can make. A happy place, for certain, but a realy tough place considering what we had just come through. I am amazed at how God sustains us through these times... when we feel like we could not take one more step, he holds us up, pushes us through the door, and encourages us to keep on keeping on. The phone rang as we waited and it was my sister-in-law. She was calling to see if we were there yet, but more importantly she was calling because they, as the parents of little Logan, were told to choose one person, family or friend, who had been and would be a godly influence on Logan and would impact both them and Logan as they raised him. I was floored, speechless, and in tears as she told me that after talking about it, I was the person they had decided fit the bill. I still don't know why they picked me. Maybe they were feeling sorry for me, but my prayer is that they have seen in me the faith that gives me strength to press through this journey. I pray that the reason they picked me was not because I had no children and it would be nice to let me be that person, but rather because they see the heart that beats in me for Christ and His children. I did not have to do anything fancy at the service, I was merely to be a witness to their dedication to raising Logan in a godly home. The original plan was that Ty, Heather, Logan, and I would gather at a certain time in the program to pray. I was ok with that.. I figured I could handle that, even as I cried to Heath "Why would they choose me?" We actually ended up gathering with the entire Erb and Guernsey families, Heather read a letter that they had written to Logan outlining their commitment to him, and through tears Ty asked me to pray. I know my voice sounded shaky, I broke down when I thanked God for the blessing of that precious little child, but I made it through my prayer.
As difficult as that felt, I know now, that that was God's work in me. A pathway to healing. Just a little piece of encouragement for my day. An understanding kind of came over me during that service... one that hurt, but that was a blessing at the same time. I realized, maybe for the first time, that if I never had a child of my own, I would be ok. If I never had a baby to cuddle to sleep at night or I never had a chance to watch Heath's eyes light up at the sight of his own flesh and blood, I would survive. Because I have the opportunity every day, with the kids I come into contact with, to point them to Christ. A chance to instill in my nieces and nephews and sweet little people God brings into my life, lessons about faith and God's love and provision and His strength even when the road is tough.
It has been one very tough week... I don't think I felt like we came out of that fog and numbness until yesterday. That's not to say we aren't still sad, and we definitely have our moments of tears and doubt, the fog still rolls in every now and then, and we sometimes find ourselves in quite a funk... but that's ok and to be expected. The important thing is that we aren't becoming bitter, we aren't falling into a sinking hole of sadness, we aren't giving up... we are trusting, we are learning to smile again, and we are healing one little moment at a time.
One week ago today, the day before Heath's 40th Birthday, we found out that our first round of IVF was unsuccessful. I won't lie, we felt completely defeated. Even as much as we have learned to try not to get our hopes up, we felt like we hit bottom. I don't remember feeling that way with other failed cycles. Our nurse called us around 3:30. Heath had taken the day off because he wanted to be here when they called. Each hour that passed as we waited felt like an eternity. And each minute that passed, I doubted a little bit more. I knew as soon as the nurse answered that the results were negative. Somehow I realized that if they were positive, she wouldn't have sounded so solemn. I'm pretty sure that's a tough call for them to have to make and it made me sad that she struggled with it. As soon as I hung up Heath and I crumbled into a heap of sobs that I'm pretty sure woke little Aurelia up. Heath was strong. He went down and got her. I love her so much, but it was a difficult hour and a half until her mommy came to get her. She was a reminder of what we may never have. I think all the emotions that had been working up over the month of appts and meds and procedures and what not, finally came crashing down on us. We grieved... it felt/feels like a death in the family. I guess if you want to get technical, it was since the embryos they transferred are considered LIFE. We both wanted to crawl into bed and sleep away the pain and we probably would have, had we not planned to celebrate Heath's b-day with my family at Logan's that night. When we planned the dinner, we had made clear that we reserved the right to not attend, depending on the results of our test. We knew that we would not feel like celebrating if things turned out as they did. I called my mom to let her know we weren't coming and I couldn't hold back the sobs... with a little coaxing from her, we did go to dinner and I cuddled with my nieces and nephews, but my heart was certainly not there. I'm pretty sure I did not taste the food that I was eating. It was important for us to keep moving, try to carry out normal activities, but it was incredibly painful.
We slept good that night. We were mentally and physically and emotionally exhausted from the last month of activity leading up to that day and those results. I gave Heath his b-day present that night because I wanted to cheer him up. I had secretly gotten him the day off work. He later told me, that after Thursday's results, he was going to call in anyway... he just didn't have the energy to put in a day's work. I also let him in on the secret gift/trip I had been planning for months. We were headed to his frst Red Wings game and then we'd stay for the weekend and do whatever struck our fancy. I did not know when I started planning this trip away that it would come on the heels of such devastating news in our baby department, but God did. We didn't come back all refreshed and ready to jump back in the saddle, but we were able to hide away where noone knew what we were sad about and we didn't have to talk about it to anyone besides each other and then only if we decided to. And we didn't really. We said a few passing comments here and there, but for the most part we stared blankly at whatever it was we were watching on TV; we ate, but didn't really taste the food, we enjoyed the heat from the fireplace in our room, but we still felt numb; we pressed on through the days, but couldn't wait till night when we could fall into bed and sleep away the pain. Our one redeeming activity, was the Red Wings game. We had a fun time at the game, forgot about our pain, talked with the season ticket holders next to us, and lost our voices as we cheered the Wings to victory. It was such a blessing.
On Saturday, we headed to Cabela's for a couple of hours. We LOVE that store... even if we don't have any money to spend there. On our way there, we got news that Aunt Lynn had passed away. Apparently when it rains, it pours... isn't that what they say, whoever "they" is.
Sunday, still feeling in a funk, we headed back home, not really ready to face the day or the week ahead. We were still exhausted and just wanted more time for us. More time to process what we'd just been through and the results and where we were headed. More time to avoid having to face all the pitying stares, the hugs, the cliche phrases. We just weren't ready... not yet. God had different plans. Things that were meant to heal even though as they were happening, I kept thinking "what in the world is He thinking?". On our way home from Detroit, we were blessed with an opportunity to spend time with our family at Ada Bible Church for our little nephew Logan's dedication. It is in actuality not really a dedication of the child, but more of the parents to raise their children in a godly loving home that points them to Christ. As we sat in the parking lot waiting for the family to show up, I will admit my nerves were on high alert. I prayed for strength because I knew that going to a child dedication just days after being told we didn't have a child on the way was going to be a pretty difficult place to be. We wouldn't have missed it for the world, but I can seriously tell you I was second guessing the wisdom of us being there. After all, the little room we would be in, would be filled with energy and noises that only children can make. A happy place, for certain, but a realy tough place considering what we had just come through. I am amazed at how God sustains us through these times... when we feel like we could not take one more step, he holds us up, pushes us through the door, and encourages us to keep on keeping on. The phone rang as we waited and it was my sister-in-law. She was calling to see if we were there yet, but more importantly she was calling because they, as the parents of little Logan, were told to choose one person, family or friend, who had been and would be a godly influence on Logan and would impact both them and Logan as they raised him. I was floored, speechless, and in tears as she told me that after talking about it, I was the person they had decided fit the bill. I still don't know why they picked me. Maybe they were feeling sorry for me, but my prayer is that they have seen in me the faith that gives me strength to press through this journey. I pray that the reason they picked me was not because I had no children and it would be nice to let me be that person, but rather because they see the heart that beats in me for Christ and His children. I did not have to do anything fancy at the service, I was merely to be a witness to their dedication to raising Logan in a godly home. The original plan was that Ty, Heather, Logan, and I would gather at a certain time in the program to pray. I was ok with that.. I figured I could handle that, even as I cried to Heath "Why would they choose me?" We actually ended up gathering with the entire Erb and Guernsey families, Heather read a letter that they had written to Logan outlining their commitment to him, and through tears Ty asked me to pray. I know my voice sounded shaky, I broke down when I thanked God for the blessing of that precious little child, but I made it through my prayer.
As difficult as that felt, I know now, that that was God's work in me. A pathway to healing. Just a little piece of encouragement for my day. An understanding kind of came over me during that service... one that hurt, but that was a blessing at the same time. I realized, maybe for the first time, that if I never had a child of my own, I would be ok. If I never had a baby to cuddle to sleep at night or I never had a chance to watch Heath's eyes light up at the sight of his own flesh and blood, I would survive. Because I have the opportunity every day, with the kids I come into contact with, to point them to Christ. A chance to instill in my nieces and nephews and sweet little people God brings into my life, lessons about faith and God's love and provision and His strength even when the road is tough.
It has been one very tough week... I don't think I felt like we came out of that fog and numbness until yesterday. That's not to say we aren't still sad, and we definitely have our moments of tears and doubt, the fog still rolls in every now and then, and we sometimes find ourselves in quite a funk... but that's ok and to be expected. The important thing is that we aren't becoming bitter, we aren't falling into a sinking hole of sadness, we aren't giving up... we are trusting, we are learning to smile again, and we are healing one little moment at a time.
2.09.2012
A Day which Shall Live in Infamy
Over this forever long 2WW (two week wait, for those of you not down with the infertility lingo... I HATE that I am!)I have been looking back over my infertility journal and noting milestones. Staring at pages and pages of the last nearly 4 years of my life has been tough. It's tough to see how much time and energy we have put into this baby journey with no return. It's tough to relive some of the moments that were so upsetting, and fun at the same time to see how God has worked through our journey. I have kept quite an extensive journal for a few reasons. #1- I always want to remember where we've been so that I don't lose sight of where we're going. #2- I want to be able to recall what worked when and how things all played out. #3- I'd never remember what meds I took when or how long we've been on this journey if I didn't write it all down to reference at any time. As I began flipping through things over the past couple of months today's date jumped off the page at me. It seems like February 9th has been a day of milestones over the last 4 years and that's something I couldn't just let pass by without mentioning it. It's just too cool of a God thing!
February 9, 2009- The day I first walked into Dr. Kitts office to get that ball rolling, so to speak, in the baby department. It was possibly the most nerve-wracking day of my life. For one thing, I stepped into the office of a completely new doctor. Someone I had never met, but that was my doctor since getting married and moving to Cedar. I think I would have rather driven to Hastings, but then I didn't really like my family doctor there either. I remember thinking, that although it was the beginning, it wouldn't last long and we'd get some medicine, maybe some tips, and we'd be on our way to parenthood. Obviously, God had different plans, because that was 4 years ago and here we are still waiting! The funniest thing to this day about Dr. Kitts (of course, you know if you've read my blog that I didn't remain his patient) is that as he talks to you about what might be wrong or might be done, he draws pictures on this little white board that's on the backside of every exam room door. Just imagine, Dr. Kitts, this little short man with graying hair, drawing pictures of my uterus and ovaries... like I'm some kindergartner that needs to see to believe I have tons of little cyst on my ovaries. Ah, yes, Feb 9th, 2009, quite the day!
February 9, 2010- Having spent entirely too long with that drawing Dr. Kitts, in July of 2009, we moved on to greener pastures. Dr. Kitts wanted to refer me to one of "his buddies", but if they were anything like him, I had no interest, so I had asked around and found an OB/GYN of my choosing. I won't lie, I chose my OB/GYN based on where I wanted to have my babies. But it just so happened, that the one I chose, Dr. Pete, was also highly recommended by Heath's cousin. Dr. Pete didn't draw pictures so that was a relief, and he was aggressive in treatment which was one thing that really drew me to him. Anyway, this February 9th, marks the day of my laporscopy/hysteroscopy. A pretty painful embarrassing surgery that produced some good things and brought some not-so-good things to our attention. I had recently had a hysterosalpingogram(HSG- aka the dye test) done and the Left tube appeared to be blocked. During the laporoscopy; however, there was no blockage in the left tube and the dye flowed freely. A praise God moment! On the down side, it was discovered that I had stage 2 endometriosis (endo). I guess it didn't really come as a surprise considering the many years that I had spent having very few periods. If the endometrium lining of the uterus was not flowing out every month, it had to be going somewhere. For me, it was depositing itself on the ovaries, which was further inhibiting my abilities to ovulate like a normal person. Again, a day that was a huge milestone to understanding our infertility.
February 9, 2011- After more than a year of monitoring, procedures, and appointments, and after more than 6 failed cycles of Clomid, Dr. Pete referred us to Dr. Dodds (his mentor, which I thought was kind of neat- and one of "his buddies" that I didn't mind being referred to since I was impressed with Dr. Pete's care)at the Fertility Center. This day was our first consultation with Dr. Dodds. The first time we sat across the desk from a fertility specialist, and the first time our hope was rekindled after such a long battle. We sat across the desk from Dr. Dodds and I'm sure there were tears shed as we told him our story from our point of view. He of course had the official records, but he took the time to listen. I remember him being impressed that we were so involved and proactive about our care. He complimented us on being prepared and knowledgeable about what we had been through and where we were going. How can you not be? When you want something, you really work for it... especially when what you want is an expression of the overflowing love you have with your spouse. Yes, this day, is not the least in our list of February 9th occurrences.
Finally, February 9, 2012- Today. The end of IVF#1- The results. The day that I will be poked possibly for the last time on this infertility journey. Our blood test to determine the results of our IVF. Are we or are we not pregnant? A HUGE milestone. One that I don't think I ever thought would be here. The day that determines our next few months. Positive and we will begin planning for baby. Painting the room, gathering supplies, jumping up and down for joy. Negative and we will likely melt into yet another puddle of tears. We will look back over the last couple of months and cry for all the time, energy, thousands of dollars, and HOPE that have been lost. We will probably NOT go join our family for Heath's birthday dinner. What kind of birthday dinner would that be? Maybe we'll sit at home feeling numbed by the news and watch whatever pointless show seems to be on TV. Maybe we'll crawl into bed and hope to never have to wake up. Or maybe we'll bury ourselves in a good book, hoping to not have to face reality. It's funny how I can think of more things to do if it's negative than if it's positive. I guess that just goes to show you how easily it is to doubt... and how difficult it is to hope. Doubt, despair, NEGATIVE tests are what's been ingrained in us over the past 4 years. That doesn't meant that's what is going to happen to us today, but it is what we know. Positive or negative, today marks a HUGE milestone in our journey. And positive or negative we still feel blessed by a God who lets nothing touch us that is not for our best.
December 7, 1941, may have been our nation's "day which shall live in infamy", but February 9th, 2012 can be classified as none other than our own personal "day which shall live in infamy".
February 9, 2009- The day I first walked into Dr. Kitts office to get that ball rolling, so to speak, in the baby department. It was possibly the most nerve-wracking day of my life. For one thing, I stepped into the office of a completely new doctor. Someone I had never met, but that was my doctor since getting married and moving to Cedar. I think I would have rather driven to Hastings, but then I didn't really like my family doctor there either. I remember thinking, that although it was the beginning, it wouldn't last long and we'd get some medicine, maybe some tips, and we'd be on our way to parenthood. Obviously, God had different plans, because that was 4 years ago and here we are still waiting! The funniest thing to this day about Dr. Kitts (of course, you know if you've read my blog that I didn't remain his patient) is that as he talks to you about what might be wrong or might be done, he draws pictures on this little white board that's on the backside of every exam room door. Just imagine, Dr. Kitts, this little short man with graying hair, drawing pictures of my uterus and ovaries... like I'm some kindergartner that needs to see to believe I have tons of little cyst on my ovaries. Ah, yes, Feb 9th, 2009, quite the day!
February 9, 2010- Having spent entirely too long with that drawing Dr. Kitts, in July of 2009, we moved on to greener pastures. Dr. Kitts wanted to refer me to one of "his buddies", but if they were anything like him, I had no interest, so I had asked around and found an OB/GYN of my choosing. I won't lie, I chose my OB/GYN based on where I wanted to have my babies. But it just so happened, that the one I chose, Dr. Pete, was also highly recommended by Heath's cousin. Dr. Pete didn't draw pictures so that was a relief, and he was aggressive in treatment which was one thing that really drew me to him. Anyway, this February 9th, marks the day of my laporscopy/hysteroscopy. A pretty painful embarrassing surgery that produced some good things and brought some not-so-good things to our attention. I had recently had a hysterosalpingogram(HSG- aka the dye test) done and the Left tube appeared to be blocked. During the laporoscopy; however, there was no blockage in the left tube and the dye flowed freely. A praise God moment! On the down side, it was discovered that I had stage 2 endometriosis (endo). I guess it didn't really come as a surprise considering the many years that I had spent having very few periods. If the endometrium lining of the uterus was not flowing out every month, it had to be going somewhere. For me, it was depositing itself on the ovaries, which was further inhibiting my abilities to ovulate like a normal person. Again, a day that was a huge milestone to understanding our infertility.
February 9, 2011- After more than a year of monitoring, procedures, and appointments, and after more than 6 failed cycles of Clomid, Dr. Pete referred us to Dr. Dodds (his mentor, which I thought was kind of neat- and one of "his buddies" that I didn't mind being referred to since I was impressed with Dr. Pete's care)at the Fertility Center. This day was our first consultation with Dr. Dodds. The first time we sat across the desk from a fertility specialist, and the first time our hope was rekindled after such a long battle. We sat across the desk from Dr. Dodds and I'm sure there were tears shed as we told him our story from our point of view. He of course had the official records, but he took the time to listen. I remember him being impressed that we were so involved and proactive about our care. He complimented us on being prepared and knowledgeable about what we had been through and where we were going. How can you not be? When you want something, you really work for it... especially when what you want is an expression of the overflowing love you have with your spouse. Yes, this day, is not the least in our list of February 9th occurrences.
Finally, February 9, 2012- Today. The end of IVF#1- The results. The day that I will be poked possibly for the last time on this infertility journey. Our blood test to determine the results of our IVF. Are we or are we not pregnant? A HUGE milestone. One that I don't think I ever thought would be here. The day that determines our next few months. Positive and we will begin planning for baby. Painting the room, gathering supplies, jumping up and down for joy. Negative and we will likely melt into yet another puddle of tears. We will look back over the last couple of months and cry for all the time, energy, thousands of dollars, and HOPE that have been lost. We will probably NOT go join our family for Heath's birthday dinner. What kind of birthday dinner would that be? Maybe we'll sit at home feeling numbed by the news and watch whatever pointless show seems to be on TV. Maybe we'll crawl into bed and hope to never have to wake up. Or maybe we'll bury ourselves in a good book, hoping to not have to face reality. It's funny how I can think of more things to do if it's negative than if it's positive. I guess that just goes to show you how easily it is to doubt... and how difficult it is to hope. Doubt, despair, NEGATIVE tests are what's been ingrained in us over the past 4 years. That doesn't meant that's what is going to happen to us today, but it is what we know. Positive or negative, today marks a HUGE milestone in our journey. And positive or negative we still feel blessed by a God who lets nothing touch us that is not for our best.
December 7, 1941, may have been our nation's "day which shall live in infamy", but February 9th, 2012 can be classified as none other than our own personal "day which shall live in infamy".
2.03.2012
Things I Want to Remember from this Journey.
I've been thinking a lot lately, I guess that goes without saying. Ha ha! But it's what I've been thinking about that I want to get down on paper lest I forget the special things that have gone on over the last few weeks. Precious things that I never want to forget or take for granted. Things I want to remember about our baby journey no matter what the outcome.
I want to remember...
The catch in Dr. Leach's throat as he wished us the best after our embryo transfer
The sweetness of my husband as he cared for me. The meals he made, the way he woke me just on time for my medicines, the way he tucked me in all comfy after our egg retrieval with a kiss on the forehead. The way he cleaned up the house the way I would have had I been able, even though it's not the way he would have necessarily.
The friends who brought meals to us. Some who have been where we are and knew what it felt like and others who just cared because they loved us.
The two sweet girls who crocheted me a necklace and string.... and loaned me their seasons of Little House on the Prairie to fill my time while on bedrest.
The leader of our small group and his wife who joined us in our bedroom after our embryo transfer and surrounded us with love and prayer. Yes, to some that may seem strange that they joined us right there on our bed and prayed with us over our little babies, but to us, it was just as it should be. Our small group that has become family.
The many people near and far, those who know us and those who have just heard of us, who have been bathing us in prayer. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about how many people are crying out to our Lord on our behalf.
The gentleness but firmness of my husband as he administers my shots each night... in a very sore bum scarred with several injection wounds. Ahh, it must be love! :-)
The excitement of our family and friends at what this next few weeks may hold for us, and there reserve at what it may not.
The glimpses and calmness of peace that surrounds us when we are reminded of what an awesome God we serve who has the ability to move mountains. He's got this!
The fact that we have 6 little embryos waiting for us in the future. So whether we achieve pregnancy this time or not, we have another chance.
The feeling I had when I knew that I was producing eggs. It was excitement and amazement and almost a sense of pride that I was responsible for those little eggs. It was kind of scary knowing that potentially I could encourage or hinder them dependent on what choices I made for myself. It is, I imagine, the way it must feel to be pregnant and know that you are responsible for the health of the baby that you carry.
That even though my body hurts from being poked and prodded over and over, it was well worth it. Granted, it's not the normal way of going about getting pregnant, but what a blessing it is that there are ways for couples like us to start a family.
That I am blessed. No matter what happens or doesn't happen, I am and forever will be blessed.
That this is not the end, or the beginning, it's just what's right now. Yes, it may impact our future, but I have to live moment by moment for Christ, not me or what I want.
That this too shall pass. The pain, the emotions, the heartache, and frustrations will all pass, but the blessings, the love, the prayers of support, the strength of our Lord... those are never changing.
That whatever the next few weeks bring, my Savior is holding me. Nothing can befall me that has not made it through His loving hands first. His plan for me is the best thing for us and I can't help but praise the Lord that He is creating a pretty bright future for us, baby or no baby.
So there you go, some things I've been thinking about, reminding myself of, praying for. The things I want to never forget about our journey.
I want to remember...
The catch in Dr. Leach's throat as he wished us the best after our embryo transfer
The sweetness of my husband as he cared for me. The meals he made, the way he woke me just on time for my medicines, the way he tucked me in all comfy after our egg retrieval with a kiss on the forehead. The way he cleaned up the house the way I would have had I been able, even though it's not the way he would have necessarily.
The friends who brought meals to us. Some who have been where we are and knew what it felt like and others who just cared because they loved us.
The two sweet girls who crocheted me a necklace and string.... and loaned me their seasons of Little House on the Prairie to fill my time while on bedrest.
The leader of our small group and his wife who joined us in our bedroom after our embryo transfer and surrounded us with love and prayer. Yes, to some that may seem strange that they joined us right there on our bed and prayed with us over our little babies, but to us, it was just as it should be. Our small group that has become family.
The many people near and far, those who know us and those who have just heard of us, who have been bathing us in prayer. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about how many people are crying out to our Lord on our behalf.
The gentleness but firmness of my husband as he administers my shots each night... in a very sore bum scarred with several injection wounds. Ahh, it must be love! :-)
The excitement of our family and friends at what this next few weeks may hold for us, and there reserve at what it may not.
The glimpses and calmness of peace that surrounds us when we are reminded of what an awesome God we serve who has the ability to move mountains. He's got this!
The fact that we have 6 little embryos waiting for us in the future. So whether we achieve pregnancy this time or not, we have another chance.
The feeling I had when I knew that I was producing eggs. It was excitement and amazement and almost a sense of pride that I was responsible for those little eggs. It was kind of scary knowing that potentially I could encourage or hinder them dependent on what choices I made for myself. It is, I imagine, the way it must feel to be pregnant and know that you are responsible for the health of the baby that you carry.
That even though my body hurts from being poked and prodded over and over, it was well worth it. Granted, it's not the normal way of going about getting pregnant, but what a blessing it is that there are ways for couples like us to start a family.
That I am blessed. No matter what happens or doesn't happen, I am and forever will be blessed.
That this is not the end, or the beginning, it's just what's right now. Yes, it may impact our future, but I have to live moment by moment for Christ, not me or what I want.
That this too shall pass. The pain, the emotions, the heartache, and frustrations will all pass, but the blessings, the love, the prayers of support, the strength of our Lord... those are never changing.
That whatever the next few weeks bring, my Savior is holding me. Nothing can befall me that has not made it through His loving hands first. His plan for me is the best thing for us and I can't help but praise the Lord that He is creating a pretty bright future for us, baby or no baby.
So there you go, some things I've been thinking about, reminding myself of, praying for. The things I want to never forget about our journey.
2.02.2012
Just a few thoughts...
I thought it would be good to get some thoughts down. As trying and scary and emotional as this process has been, I do want to remember it. There have been funny times... well, they didn't seem funny at the time, but we can laugh about them now. There have been times that I have been so mad I wanted to throw something. And then times I was overcome with joy that I couldn't stop the tears. All in all, I can say it's been quite a process.
I think the first thought that struck me today as I was thinking over it all, is about the outcome. We aren't there yet, we still have some time to go before we know whether all our efforts and our doctors efforts have produced the desired outcome. I don't know how long it will be before we share, but we will at some point. The waiting is difficult. I am constantly second guessing myself. The things I do, the things I eat. Am I preventing my little babies from growing? Have I done anything that might cause those little embryos from continuing to grow and burrow in? But then I remember that this is out of my control. There is only one person in control of that, and that is my Lord. I have done all I'm supposed to do so I just need to sit back and let him work.
I keep thinking "what if we get to the end of this process and still DO NOT have a baby on the way?" That thought leaves me breathless. But then, the thought that immediately follows "What if we get to the end of the process and we DO have a baby on the way?", that possibility leaves me breathless too.
Heath and I have been talking about how much it feels like we are on a teeter totter. One day we feel we are on a high point and we feel positive that the outcome will be good. Then the next time we're on the low side, wondering where we go from here when the outcome is not as we would desire. It's such a hard emotional thing, I feel like I don't even know how to put it into sensible sentences.
I am touched by how much our doctors and nurses are invested in our future. The motto of The Fertility Center is "Build your family with us!" and I truly believe each one of the doctors or nurses I have come into contact with have felt a sense of pride in being a part of that. It amazes me how much they care for each little piece of how this all works. At our embryo transfer appt, we met Dr. Leach, the newest doctor to the facility, for the first time. He was so kind and patient and always checking to see how I was doing. A couple of things really made an impression on me about him. #1 He had the kindest eyes. They held concern, a love for his job, and patience with me. Hope poured out of them and it was a huge encouragement and solidified the fact that he was there for me at that moment in time. #2 Once the procedure was done, HE was the one that moved us to the recovery area, got me settled in bed with my legs propped up, made sure I was comfortable. That was kind of funny to me. Usually, at least in my experience thus far, the nurses were the ones that got me settled and comfy for my wait. I was impressed by it. #3 I knew he was invested in our journey because just before he left us, he squeezed my hand, let me know that they had transferred two very healthy embryos, and with a catch in his throat, said "I wish you the best!" I of course melted into tears at the thought that even he was emotional over our journey. His care for us during the few short minutes we had with him was phenomenal! I tear up even now thinking about that moment over and over again. They aren't just doctors there for a paycheck or to get to the end of the day, they really do LOVE what they do and are so excited to be able to assist couples in building their families.
We have had several people ask us already when we will know whether we are pregnant or not. We have kindly changed the subject or just said "sometime this month" or "soon". The truth is, we're not ready to share all the nitty gritty details with everyone. There are a couple of different reasons for that. For one thing, we need time to process what we have just been through and are still going through. We need time to figure out just how to share our experiences. How much, how little does a person share of this journey through IVF? It's quite a fascinating experience and I'd love to shout it from the mountain tops, but at this point, for our peace of mind, I don't think that would be best. For another reason, we feel like just because our baby journey has been more open and honest and public than those who decide to have a baby, rumble in the hay, and then are pregnant (I mean no disrespect. Praise God if you had it easy.) does not mean we don't deserve all the joy of deciding just when and how to share our news with our family and friends. We've often thought about how we would tell our parents and siblings and I think we should still have that opportunity. On our time not someone else's. And lastly, if we don't have success this first try around, I know there will be a lot of emotions that we have to work through before we are ready to share with others. I wish that you all could see inside my heart and could understand more clearly these musings of this emotional infertile girl! :-)
Reading over this post, it seems like the most scatterbrained post I've ever written. I guess I can't do anything more about that... the words and emotions are jumbled in my brain. Getting them out, helps me think more clearly, but it also makes for a jumbled post. So sorry, maybe things will shape up here soon. Until then, please keep praying with us that the Lord's will continue to be done in our lives. After all, that is our true desire!
I think the first thought that struck me today as I was thinking over it all, is about the outcome. We aren't there yet, we still have some time to go before we know whether all our efforts and our doctors efforts have produced the desired outcome. I don't know how long it will be before we share, but we will at some point. The waiting is difficult. I am constantly second guessing myself. The things I do, the things I eat. Am I preventing my little babies from growing? Have I done anything that might cause those little embryos from continuing to grow and burrow in? But then I remember that this is out of my control. There is only one person in control of that, and that is my Lord. I have done all I'm supposed to do so I just need to sit back and let him work.
I keep thinking "what if we get to the end of this process and still DO NOT have a baby on the way?" That thought leaves me breathless. But then, the thought that immediately follows "What if we get to the end of the process and we DO have a baby on the way?", that possibility leaves me breathless too.
Heath and I have been talking about how much it feels like we are on a teeter totter. One day we feel we are on a high point and we feel positive that the outcome will be good. Then the next time we're on the low side, wondering where we go from here when the outcome is not as we would desire. It's such a hard emotional thing, I feel like I don't even know how to put it into sensible sentences.
I am touched by how much our doctors and nurses are invested in our future. The motto of The Fertility Center is "Build your family with us!" and I truly believe each one of the doctors or nurses I have come into contact with have felt a sense of pride in being a part of that. It amazes me how much they care for each little piece of how this all works. At our embryo transfer appt, we met Dr. Leach, the newest doctor to the facility, for the first time. He was so kind and patient and always checking to see how I was doing. A couple of things really made an impression on me about him. #1 He had the kindest eyes. They held concern, a love for his job, and patience with me. Hope poured out of them and it was a huge encouragement and solidified the fact that he was there for me at that moment in time. #2 Once the procedure was done, HE was the one that moved us to the recovery area, got me settled in bed with my legs propped up, made sure I was comfortable. That was kind of funny to me. Usually, at least in my experience thus far, the nurses were the ones that got me settled and comfy for my wait. I was impressed by it. #3 I knew he was invested in our journey because just before he left us, he squeezed my hand, let me know that they had transferred two very healthy embryos, and with a catch in his throat, said "I wish you the best!" I of course melted into tears at the thought that even he was emotional over our journey. His care for us during the few short minutes we had with him was phenomenal! I tear up even now thinking about that moment over and over again. They aren't just doctors there for a paycheck or to get to the end of the day, they really do LOVE what they do and are so excited to be able to assist couples in building their families.
We have had several people ask us already when we will know whether we are pregnant or not. We have kindly changed the subject or just said "sometime this month" or "soon". The truth is, we're not ready to share all the nitty gritty details with everyone. There are a couple of different reasons for that. For one thing, we need time to process what we have just been through and are still going through. We need time to figure out just how to share our experiences. How much, how little does a person share of this journey through IVF? It's quite a fascinating experience and I'd love to shout it from the mountain tops, but at this point, for our peace of mind, I don't think that would be best. For another reason, we feel like just because our baby journey has been more open and honest and public than those who decide to have a baby, rumble in the hay, and then are pregnant (I mean no disrespect. Praise God if you had it easy.) does not mean we don't deserve all the joy of deciding just when and how to share our news with our family and friends. We've often thought about how we would tell our parents and siblings and I think we should still have that opportunity. On our time not someone else's. And lastly, if we don't have success this first try around, I know there will be a lot of emotions that we have to work through before we are ready to share with others. I wish that you all could see inside my heart and could understand more clearly these musings of this emotional infertile girl! :-)
Reading over this post, it seems like the most scatterbrained post I've ever written. I guess I can't do anything more about that... the words and emotions are jumbled in my brain. Getting them out, helps me think more clearly, but it also makes for a jumbled post. So sorry, maybe things will shape up here soon. Until then, please keep praying with us that the Lord's will continue to be done in our lives. After all, that is our true desire!
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