Perspective

I laughed when I was invited to this blog. After three years in a Wymount ward, I was the longest-married childless woman who hadn't publicly born her testimony about her struggles with infertility. But here I am today.

My period came today, marking five months of failure. I know five months is nothing compared to what some of you have been through. I know anything up to a year is "normal". I know I am wonderfully blessed to have a 16 month old. I know my body might still be rebalancing after finally cutting out the last nursing session two months ago. I know my body might be recovering from that Mirena IUD. 

But still. 

It's hard.

When I was 17 or 18 I remember sitting in the car in our garage with my mom, and she said "women in our family get pregnant really easily". With my first daughter, I conceived less than a week after having my IUD out, and didn't even have sex within three days of my expected ovulation!

So for the last several years I thought I was someone who would always get pregnant easily.

This failure, month five, is the hardest for me. This month would have resulted in an August due date, which would have put my kids two years apart in school. I have always wanted, and always pictured my kids two years apart in school. Now that isn't going to happen. 

I don't really know where to go from here. I never pictured or wanted a fall baby, but it seems so... I don't know the word... wrong to even have a preference at this point. I never thought this would happen to me. 

I know you have gone through so much. But you were also where I am at one point, so how do you get past mourning over your plans and dreams crashing down?

I don't know if anyone reads this, but I needed to get it out. No one (besides my husband) even knows that we want another child yet.

Testing

This post is in response to Megan’s comments and her post below mostly (thanks for both Megan!). Hopefully it will answer the questions and help some of you. Side note: Anonymous, if you're reading this, thank you for the comment and if you'd be willing to email me, I have questions about adopting through foster care, my email address is at the bottom of this post, thanks!

I started off at an ob/gyn and was diagnosed with PCOS. I had sporadic periods throughout my life. Usually it would be two, three or four months between them. My doctor put me on metformin (a drug to regulate my insulin) and on clomid (a drug to make me ovulate). The clomid worked, I got pregnant but lost the baby at around eight weeks.

Almost a year went by before I was emotionally and physically ready to try again. I went back on clomid and ovulated a few times but didn’t get pregnant. I joined some online infertility groups and my husband and I went to see a Reproductive Endocrinologist*. She confirmed my diagnosis of PCOS, put me on metformin (and actually told me why I was taking it), and started testing. I had blood tests to check my hormones. I had ultrasounds to check my ovaries, they found a cyst, it was small and she said that’s pretty normal but she kept an eye on it. I had an HSG, basically what they do is push dye into your uterus and fallopian tubes and take x-rays to make sure they’re open and that they look normal. This is an uncomfortable procedure, make sure to take pain medication BEFORE going in for the procedure and schedule it for a time where you can go home and rest afterward. If possible, have someone else drive. Don’t forget, we’re not the only ones that are/should be tested. In our case, I thought it would be silly for my husband to be tested because I obviously had a problem. Our ob/gyn had tested him and while his results weren’t perfect, they weren’t horrible. And remember, we had gotten pregnant before. Well, the RE wanted to test him anyway so he had a semen analysis done.

Our RE called us to come in for the results of all our tests. We were excited, we were expecting to maybe have to take Clomid again and then it would happen just like last time, except minus the miscarriage. We were all smiles walking into the RE’s office that day and ready to hear the results of the tests. The RE confirmed what we already knew about me, my body didn’t like to ovulate, AT ALL. We also found out that none of my husband’s sperm could penetrate an egg. They were missing that key component, but were fine otherwise. She then presented us with our one option, IVF with ICSI. ICSI is where they would take my egg and insert a sperm and place the embryo inside of me. This was our only option…oh, and I almost forgot, the cost is $17,000 and our insurance wasn’t going to cover any of it. Needless to say, the smiles got wiped right off our faces.

Through fasting and prayer we’ve actually decided to head down the adoption route, but I’ll save that for a later post. I want to say thanks to all who have posted and written comments on this blog, you’re an amazing group of women! I’m so glad I stumbled on Megan’s blog and then onto this blog, I know God led me here!

*Regarding the Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE), if you haven’t gone to see one yet and you’re serious about figuring out what’s wrong and/or wondering what all your options are for getting pregnant, go see an RE. My husband and I had the same tests performed by my ob/gyn and the RE, and the RE’s results are much more direct. The ob/gyn told us my husband’s sperm weren’t that great. It took going to the RE to find out why. I’m off my soap box now…if anyone has any questions feel free to email me at lymeach at gmail dot com

Medical Side of it All...

I am interested in what kinds of infertility (etc) tests any of you have done, and if they've received any diagnosis or answers from them? A few procedures I'm especially interested in is a HSG (dye test) and a hysteroscopy.

I have read a lot of stuff about these specific things, but I just rather hear about people's first hand experiences, people that I know. What other tests do they do or procedures do they perform related to infertility (not able to become pregnant, or to carry a fetus full term). Thanks for your input and sharing!

Also, I'd like to say... I just moved out of Wymount!! It really is bitter-sweet, I will miss my ward, and my neighbors, and other perks of living so close with the ward. However, I don't think I'll miss the constant baby announcements or pregnancy announcements, etc. I feel so refreshed. We moved to Orem - in the basement of a house. Three single mid-30 girls live upstairs. None of them dating anyone seriously. I got to know two of them pretty well today... and I finally began to appreciate my mom's constant reminder "at least you're married!". I am grateful that I am married, and to a mighty fine man if I do say so myself! :) Love you all!!

This is me

I got married when I was 19. My husband, Nate, and I entered a ward of mostly young married couples. I went to Relief Society and there were about 10 new sisters (including myself) so we all stood to introduce ourselves. This is how the 9 sisters introduced themselves, “Hi, my name is so and so and my husband is starting medical school.” Then they would sit down. I remember it was almost my turn and I kept thinking, “Am I supposed to introduce myself or my husband?” Finally it was my turn and I said, “Hi my name is Alysha and my husband works for Kohls.” What I wanted to say is more along the lines of, “Hi, my name is Alysha. I just got married to my best friend, I’m a nanny and I’m going to school to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. I like photography and baking and I sing really loud and dance whenever I hear music.” Recently I’ve been saying things that are true but not saying what I want to say. I realized this blog is one of the places I can say what I want to say so…here it goes!

My name is Alysha, I’ve been married for four years to an amazing man. We got pregnant about two years ago with medical help. We went in to hear the heartbeat and were told there wasn’t one. I was given medicine to bring on a miscarriage and we lost our child at about eight weeks. I can’t even begin to describe my feelings. I think I had so many emotions at once that it was hard to figure out what each emotion actually was. I wasn’t just sad, I was confused and lonely, angry and jealous. My arms were empty and my heart was breaking.

Remember how I said I was married to an amazing man? Well, I wasn’t lying. Nate helped me through every aspect of the miscarriage. There was of course the physical pain and healing but there is so much more. There’s an emotional and spiritual healing that needs to happen. And it’s happening, it’s still happening two years later. I still have questions but I’m finally letting peace wash over me. I think Heavenly Father has tried for awhile to comfort me, but I thought that if I forgot my pain I was forgetting my child. I know now that isn’t true. The Lord has a plan for me and Nate. We’ve grown closer together and closer to the Lord through this and I know He hears and answers our prayers. I’m looking forward to what he has in store for us…

a few recent thoughts of mine...

I am currently in Iowa on vacation with my family - it is WONDERFUL to be home!!! This post is more to just vent, and share what feelings are on my mind...

First, a little background... I found out I was pregnant July 27th last year, which according to my LMP would make my due date April 5th this year. A week later a few ultrasounds confirmed I had an ectopic pregnancy. I was treated with methotrexate. 3 weeks later I began bleeding, a few ultrasounds confirmed I had an interuterine gestational sac and yolk sac, but no cardiac activity. The bleeding was a miscarriage of the 7 wk fetus. I still don't have answers, but I find comfort and it feels right to call it a 'hetertopic pregnancy' which is extremely rare - twins, one ectopic and the other in the uterus. Anyway...

A few days after we found out we were expecting. We told my parents, as they were visiting Utah. My sister in law also announced to all of us she was expecting too!! Wow, we were excited. (it was to be my SIL's 2nd child).

After that traumatic pregnancy... I struggled for months and months to become emotionally stable, really - it was not a good experience for me!! I found out in September that my SIL's due date was the same as mine would have been (according to my LMP) - April 5th. That just hurt SO much worse. Whenever she had an u/s or a check up, etc. . . I would find out what the updates were, like the gender of the baby, etc. and I couldn't help but think "that could have been me, that SHOULD be me with her, that would have been me too..." it sucked.

Anyway, my nephew was born 6 weeks ago on April 4th. I survived that dreadful weekend with flying colors, thanks to many prayers and extra strength.

After that short background - we are here in Iowa. On vacation with my family. My SIL, bro and niece/nephew are here now too, they just flew in yesterday. It has been surprisingly difficult to see a few of my siblings (there are 7 of us total) meet their first and new nephew. To see how excited they are. To see how much my mom loves to hold him and take care of him, to change his diapers, etc. Or to see my dad show this little guy off to his employee's and friends, etc. I just see how happy this little guy makes them and I can't help but to feel that I have failed them. I know, I know... I haven't "failed" at anything - right? But really... it still doesn't take away the fact that I miscarried. and had everything gone as it should have - they would be all ooohing and aaahing over my baby.

My mother in law has been visiting her parents who live just an hour north of my hometown here in Iowa. She came down to Iowa City today to spend time with Seth and see all of us, etc. My SIL and MIL sat on the couch with the little nephew just playing and laughing and talking, etc. and I struggle in general getting more comfortable around my in-laws. And I have often felt if I just had a baby we would have something to talk about and connect with. And today my MIL and SIL were connecting. (remember, MIL is Seth's mom. SIL is my brother's wife. opposite families). . . and I couldn't help but think "there is nothing for me and my MIL to talk about. . . my job is boring, my life is... boring, everything is so "lame"... and here she is enjoying her time with my SIL b/c she has a baby to connect with. I just felt quite sad. It's lame, huh?

Also, I just want to vent this too.... Seth and I both have large extended families - lots of cousins our age/older. Many are married currently. ALL of our married cousins currently are expecting and/or have a child. literally, all of them. I thought we weren't alone... I thought my cousin who got married last September wouldn't be expecting so soon - but, they announced on Mother's day she is even through with her first trimester. ouch. I know, I'm "competitive" and this is definitely something you cannot compare yourself to others in life about!! But... I just do. I know it's not right, and my mind really does not dwell on it - it may seem that it does but it doesn't. It's just sometimes my thoughts go those directions, I recognize they are wrong - and they don't stay on my mind for long. But it does just enough to get me sad anyway.

I really ought to go to sleep now. But these are a few of my thoughts, thanks for listening...

Fertile in our Faith

I wrote this post on our personal blog and also decided to post parts of it here.

This book (Fertile in our Faith) was written by a Latter-day Saint woman named Krista Ralston Oakes. She discusses what it is like to be a member of the church and to be infertile.

I am just going to jot down some of my feelings about the subject and include some from the book as well. For those of you who are struggling with this, I highly recommend this book. For those of you who do not struggle with this, I would still recommend this book because it shows the "infertile" perspective in the LDS culture. Jordan and I both read it and liked it.

I hope I don't offend anyone with what I am going to say here. It is not meant to offend anyone, just to convey information in the hopes that those who struggle know they are not alone, and those who don't struggle will know how to approach the sensitive subject.

I have especially noticed in my own experiences that those who don't have problems getting pregnant are not aware that for many people it takes a long time. People often make comments that seem harmless to them, but really hurt the couple they are talking to. Just because a couple does not have children, don't assume it is their choice. And if it is their choice, that is ok too. That decision is only between the couple and the Lord.

The comments I am talking about are things such as, "so any babies on the way?" or "when are you going to have a baby?" One of the things that really makes me sad is when people complain about their children. If they only knew how much some people would give to have children of their own, I think they would be more careful in what they say.

I admit, I am still pretty young. But please, don't tell me, "You are still so young! You have plenty of time for that." That doesn't help me feel any better. I know people have good intentions. Like when they find out that you are struggling and they automatically bring up so-and-so who couldn't get pregnant for 7 years and then had 8 kids. Or the couple that couldn't have kids so they adopted and then got pregnant on their own after that. That doesn't really help either. The horrible thing is, it is hard to tell you exactly what does help because it seems that whatever somebody says, it hurts. I think the best thing that you can do is give your support in the decisions that the couple makes and offer to pray for them, fast for them, or keep them in your thoughts. And be sincere.

As for us, we have taken a break from medical procedures for now. Only those who have been through infertility counseling will know how invasive and emotionally draining the whole thing is. Your whole private life suddenly becomes subject to scrutiny. I can honestly say it is the hardest thing that I have ever had to go through. Some of you might be thinking that I hide it well, but I try really hard to be cheerful and happy and live in the moment. I truly do enjoy my time alone with Jordan. Our relationship has definitely deepened and has been strengthened by this trial. He has been very supportive and I love him! No matter what the situation ends up being in this mortal existence, I know that if we are faithful, we can have a family in the eternities. I am so grateful for His gospel and that I have that knowledge.

Points From The Book

Statistically affects one in eight couples of childbearing age in the United States (CDC – 2002). This statistic is fairly old, so the number could have gone up… slightly.

Infertility is not a sign of unworthiness.

• This book brings up the point that some women will, while bearing their testimony, express gratitude and awe that the Lord has entrusted her with the new spirit that was born into their family. It kind of implies that couples who don't have children haven't earned the Lord's trust, which is totally false.
  
• "Children are not the Lord's equivalent of stickers being handed out by a Primary teacher for good behavior."
  
• "Perhaps the arrival of a child depends more on the timing and circumstance that is best suited to that child's earthly mission and eternal potential."
  

Infertility is nothing more than a biological condition – a consequence of mortality.

The author talked about the challenge of attending church only to be bombarded by women surrounded by children, or those who are pregnant, or sitting through endless lessons on motherhood. She was often tempted not to go to church because of these things. I have talked to a few people in my same situation and it seems that we have all felt this way. I got an e-mail from my Relief Society several months back that said something like, "there are 30 girls pregnant in our Relief Society. It's a new ward record!" All I can say about that is ouch. That one hurts for those of us in my ward who wished desperately that we were one of them.

• A good way to help get yourself to church is to realize why you do go. She gives a great list in the book about why she goes.
  

There are sections in this book about miscarriage, adoption, and secondary "lonely" infertility (which is being able to get pregnant easily the first time but not being able to get pregnant again).

The author makes a great point that I had never really thought of before. She had a chapter on Filling the Measure of our Creation. This is what she says:

• "The measure of our creation is the potential that lies within our creation – immortality and eternal life. We fill the measure of our creation by realizing that potential, which is the very work and glory of our Father in Heaven. It has nothing – nothing – to do with our reproductive status.
  

Like I said earlier, I try to live in the moment and find joy in what I do. There is a poem in this book that I would also like to share.

Someone did something of kindness today.

She lifted a person who came by the way.

But I didn't do that, because as you see,

I sat on the couch and felt sorry for me.

Someone took talents and lo and behold,

They increased those talents by at least tenfold.

But my talent was not what I'd hoped to have found,

So I buried it deep in an infertile ground.

Bitter and angry that life was unfair

And not how I'd planned, I just chose not to care.

Meanwhile someone else took what I had cast down

And fashioned it into an eternal crown.

When the precious hours of time come to an end

And I stand before my Savior and Friend,

Who had more than His share of injustice and strife,

How will I give an account of my life?

A quote by Sydney J. Harris: "The commonest fallacy among women is that simply having children makes them a mother – which is as absurd as believing that having a piano makes one a musician."

The book also covers things like hard days (such as Mother's and Father's Day and Christmas), how to support someone who is going through this, success stories, and other recommended reading.

Thanks again for all those that have been supporting us through this trial. If you are going through similar experiences I would be happy to talk to you about them! It really helps to talk about it.

I hope all is well with all of you!

Kindred Spirits

Megan asked if I could share my story, and it is sort of scary to put up here when I don’t know what you might think of it. Every part of it is really vivid for me, but I’ve tried to keep it to the main details. I guess what I hope is that if you’ve had something similar happen, that you don’t feel alone.

Last fall I found out I was pregnant, and a couple of weeks later had an ultrasound where I saw a joyful little heartbeat. It was crazy: a little white bean that was the baby, and inside of that, a little area that went black-white, black-white, black-white. A few weeks after that, I had some cramping and saw a tiny dot of blood. The doctors told me if I ever saw any blood with cramps that I should call them. When I called, they were skeptical, but they told me to come in if only to put fears to rest. My doctor did another ultrasound, and I could see the tiny white bean that was the baby, and inside no flashing black-white, black-white. No more heartbeat, that is. I was 8 weeks along. My doctor was very sweet and walked me through the options for getting the baby out, but it was only 12 hours later when it started happening on its own. Around 4:00 am my husband had to take me to the ER because the pain was too bad. I found out later that it was labor pain (I didn’t know you could go through that that early), and the pain wasn’t stopping because the “blood clot” – that’s what they called the baby – was stuck behind my cervix, so the doctors had to help me get it out.

In the hospital, I asked to see what they took out of me. The nurse put what they had taken out inside of a plastic sample cup and handed it to me. We weren’t sure at that point if we had gotten it out or not. I didn’t see anything but tissue at first, but then I noticed a small placenta, and then I saw the baby, just a tiny flesh-colored bean with its back up against one side of the cup. I held onto the cup for a long time.

I know that even getting to the point of seeing the heartbeat is so much to be grateful for, and that this was just my first pregnancy so I have good odds of success in the future. It was hard though, to see the little heartbeat and to lose it so traumatically. After I lost the baby, my only thought was to get it back in there. Or at least get another one back in there. It’s 6 months later now and I’m not pregnant, we’re still trying. I flip back and forth between feeling scared of being a parent, depression from what happened, sometimes jealousy when I see women as far along as I should be, sometimes guilt when I feel that I am moving on (because I don’t want to), and when I see a baby – not so much longing as sadness.

I don’t know why it happened. There are tests that they can do, but my doctor told me that they cost thousands of dollars and they don’t really do those unless you’ve miscarried a few times. There are lots of questions that you think but won’t get answers to any time in this life. There are also questions that I wasn’t asking that were answered. After the ultrasound where we saw there was no heartbeat, just getting in the car was hard. Shutting the door was hard. Turning the key. I was wondering about the wisdom of driving home when I had so many tears clogging up my vision. I felt like I was being ripped apart, exactly in half from top to bottom. And then, as I sat there with the motor running, I felt like Heavenly Father loved me. Of all the things to feel, in all the times and places, that is what I felt sitting there. Not “you’re going to be ok” or “things will be better in the future” – just “I love you.” I have never felt it so strong or been so sure of it. I remember driving home and thinking how weird it was to have those two feelings juxtaposed: feeling like my heart was being ripped from my body, and the feeling that Heavenly Father loved me so strong it was like a presence right there in the car next to me. I know that’s not everyone’s experience, and I don’t know why it happened that way for me. I just know that after that, and in the months since, no matter how empty I felt or how much I wanted to be angry, I still knew what happened in that car. I’m not saying it wasn’t bad, it was, that’s why I didn’t get the “you’re going to be ok” feeling. But it has really helped to feel loved, by God and my husband and family and friends.

A month after my miscarriage, I was back in the hospital with an unrelated issue. A nurse overheard me say that I had miscarried recently, and she came to me alone later and told me that she had just miscarried the week before at 8 weeks. She was the first person I had spoken with in that whole month who had miscarried recently, and I remember just feeling waves of relief speaking with her and hearing her story and sharing mine. That meant so much to me, so I hope that my sharing this hasn’t brought up any bad feelings for anyone. If anything, I hope you at least feel that there are kindred spirits out there.