Friday, September 30, 2011

To my future child.....

This morning, I woke up & walked into what would be your room,
I thought of how I’d rock you, feed you, dress you, and
how we’d watch the spring flowers bloom.
None of this is possible, because God has not chosen me, yet
He hasn’t given me an opportunity to be a mommy.
Every night, I lay in bed
Thoughts of you ponder in my head.
I hold closely the man I love,
This man deserves the chance to be a daddy.
I picture him holding you close & the three of us so happy.
Although you are not here,
I already love you so dear.
Everyday I dream of what it would be like
to hold a baby of my own,
Every tear that runs down my face is another day gone wrong.
I walk in town to see women with their beautiful bellies,
My friends announce they’re pregnant now,
And, I smile – I am happy for them
But truthfully I am burning inside.
The hurt, the pain, I try to hide –
But still I can’t understand why?!?
Every night, I dream, I dream of daddy, mommy, and you
I dream of vacations, weekends, and trips to the zoo,
I dream of your hands, your feet, your fingers, and toes,
I picture your lips, your eyes, your nose,
I think of what your first day at school will be like,
I think of teaching you to ride your first bike.
I dream of reading your favorite stories at night,
I dream of holding you in my arms so tight.
I imagine all of these things but, the I wake realize it isn’t real,
That is when it is heartache and pain that I feel.
If only God would bless me,
I would surely love to hold our first baby.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

I feel.....

Seems like lately it always feels like we are the only couple on earth suffering from infertility. You hear and read that millions of people are going through infertility treatments but yet where are they? Your cousin got pregnant after (oops!) drinking too much one night; your co-worker tried for an agonizing three months before it finally happened to her; and all your friends are either pregnant or having baby number two, three or four. If there are millions and millions who suffer from infertility, it certainly feels like they are living somewhere else.
I feel jealous.
I feel bitter and envious.
I feel like everyone is pregnant but me (including your dog, goats, heck even the chickens have great eggs but nope not me).
I feel angry, disappointed and frustrated.
I feel hopeless, then hopeful, then hopeless again.
I feel heartbroken, emotionally-drained and desperate.
I feel discouraged, and exhausted.
I feel like I can’t look at that toilet paper even one more time.
I feel like I'm getting high on Folic Acid.
I feel like I see the transvaginal wand more than my husband.
I feel like I will go crazy if my fertility clinic doesn’t call me back by 3pm.
I feel like I know more about cervical mucus than a fertility specialist.
I feel like (’ve had more unprotected sex than an immature teenager.
But I also feel calm and strong and determined.
And although I might feel lonely going through this infertility adventure, I know that I am definitely not alone. 

Thursday, September 1, 2011

My view of infertility: Suffering in Silence

"So what happened last week?" my co-worker asked, wondering why I'd disappeared for several days in the middle of the week. "Did you have the flu?"  “It was..." I trailed off, trying to decide how much I wanted to share with someone who was really more of a professional contact than a friend. "It was...woman stuff."

Just like that, I slapped a vague label on the most excruciating loss of my life.

Mere days before this conversation took place, I was chipper and dreamy and carrying a baby. Then, in the course of one horrid day, it all unraveled. Now, I found myself sitting back in my office chair, stunned, grieving, and facing an urgent mountain of work.

I pawed my pile listlessly, wondering how the world could go on when mine had surely ended. All around me, keyboards chattered and telephones rang. Coworkers eyed me suspiciously, clearly not buying my excuse that I was just under the weather. I'd just lost a baby. And it had dropped me into a hell of despair so deep that it hurt just to breathe.

So, why was I keeping it a secret?

Miscarriage is death. It brings with it all the agonizing grief that comes with losing a loved one. But miscarriage is also a taboo topic. It's the very reason that we hide our pregnancies during those first dicey months, fretfully waiting for the danger to abate before making any announcements.

When bad news comes, couples that lose a pregnancy tend to mourn in secret, telling only close friends and family about their loss. There are no funerals. No memorials. You don't get sympathy cards and bereavement time. Instead, routines go on, and you take sick days.

In fact, the only tradition our society does have regarding miscarriage is that you're not supposed to talk about it. We expect grieving couples to buck up and pretend that the little life lost never existed in the first place.

We reduce a miracle to a topic not fit for polite conversation.

An estimated one in seven pregnancies ends in miscarriage. Each year in the U.S. alone, over 700,000 babies don't survive to be born. Millions of people must be mourning them. So, where are they? “The only tradition our society does have regarding miscarriage is that you're not supposed to talk about it.”

As a society, we let ourselves believe the lie that miscarriage is a minor event in a woman's life. "It happens all the time," people tell you, as if knowledge of its frequency will put the loss in perspective. (Imagine giving that same line to someone who just lost a grandparent.) "It really wasn't a baby yet" is another line people glibly offer. Or, "You hardly even knew you were pregnant."

I have had four miscarriages, one at 19 weeks, one at 13 weeks, and two at about 10 weeks. Every time, I knew I was pregnant right away. That's a lot of mornings to wake up enchanted that there's a child growing inside you. It's many long afternoons of fatigue, strange cravings, and nausea. It's countless cups of decaf coffee and glasses of wine declined. It's hundreds  prenatal vitamins.

I don't blame society for being so callous about pregnancy loss. If nobody ever tells people how much it hurts, how are they to know that miscarriage is such a big deal? Why shouldn't they think that it is no worse than blowing a job interview or having your team lose the big game?

As with so many taboo topics, perhaps the answer is simply for people to be more open: To stop pretending that if we ignore a miscarriage, it won't hurt.

I still think about that miserable afternoon at work and how much easier it would have been if I'd just exhaled the truth. If I could have let people say, "I'm so sorry." If I hadn't had to pretend that it was a normal day even as I was in the grips of soul-swallowing grief.

Because the only thing worse than losing something that meant the world to you is pretending that you lost nothing.

September is PCOS Awareness Month

For those of you that don't know what PCOS (Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome) is:
Polycystic ovary syndrome is a problem in which a woman's hormones are out of balance. It can cause problems with your periods and make it difficult to get pregnant. PCOS may also cause unwanted changes in the way you look. If it is not treated, over time it can lead to serious health problems, such as diabetes and heart disease. Polycystic ovary syndrome (or PCOS) is common, affecting as many as 1 out of 15 women. Often the symptoms begin in the teen years. Treatment can help control the symptoms and prevent long-term problems.-Wikipedia

I was diagnosed with PCOS when I was 18 years old, after having been told for quite a few years that nothing was wrong with me. My first GYN appointment the Dr told me "your young and active, it's normal for your body to be like this" NOT!! This really didn't bother me until after I was married and we decided to have children.

Another blogger friend challenged me to write a blog that in short told the story of my struggle with infertility. This short essay is going to be posted following this one as it's a bit longer but I've written about something that's affected me more than anything! Feedback is always appreciated!!

Not sure where to start.....

So I've had this blog for a while, but I haven't really been sure where to start. Heck, I'm not even sure if anyone will ever read this! I've always kept sort of a journal but never shared it with anyone and I think it's time to upgrade to the next level.
I'm sure there will be lots of rambling and even a few private posts, but the good thing here is if you don't like what your reading you can always leave!

Having said that I welcome you to my blog!