Can we talk?

Pretty sure you feel in trouble now, huh?

I truly wonder when you stop feeling like you're in trouble when someone says that to you. At what age does one feel adult enough to be like "yeah, we can talk" without saying in your head "oh crap, what did I do or say wrong?"

Anyways...

I recently watched an interview of a woman who was a news anchor on TV in England, who like me had gone through years of infertility, failed treatments and finally got her miracle baby via IVF. She spoke about how even at the IVF/fertility clinic she felt this need to put on a brave face and suffer in silence. She also spoke about the unspoken desire to keep the hope alive in the waiting room, despite how of all places it would be there in the waiting room of a fertility clinic you should be able to lose your mind and have everyone in the room 100% understand how you felt and be able to empathize with you.

Obviously that short five minute or less video resonated with me and got me thinking. If not there, if not at church, at work or even amongst friends then WHERE?

I've written a ton about how I was very vocal about our struggles and why I was so vocal. It still kills me when I hear or read about friends or acquaintances who have suffered a loss or are struggling and how alone they felt or feel unable to talk about it because it's such a taboo subject. Friends, 1 out of every 8 couples struggle to conceive and 1 of every 4 women will experience a miscarriage. Let me repeat that... One of every EIGHT couples struggle to conceive and one in every FOUR will experience a miscarriage. Do the math, that's a ton of your friends, family, co-workers and congregation. SO WHY AREN'T WE TALKING ABOUT IT?

I am not saying you personally have to jump on facebook, instagram or shout it from the mountains but what I am saying is why aren't we as a society, church or work environment talking about it. Why aren't there more books, movies, blogs or conversations around this hard stuff. Its grief, real raw, ruin your week, marriage and finances type shit. (sorry mom, but uh let's be real here the word stuff just doesn't do this subject justice)

I worked two jobs, which was totalling more than 50 hours a week, picked up every babysitting job I could to pay for our fertility treatments since our insurance didn't even cover testing. I rode the rollercoaster of emotions every 28 days, watched as we went from debt free to maxing out a credit card or two.. and put on my brave face to attend countless baby showers for friends and then crying the entire drive home. Held my breath every time I went to the bathroom because maybe, just maybe this would be our month only to see blood. Cried every time I heard our pastors talk about how fertile our church was. It was awful. 

My body is quite literally being plagued by a chronic illness that our society and culture have deemed taboo. More often than not I am in pain, I feel exhausted and my symptoms almost unmanageable. It took 15 years to get the diagnosis of endometriosis, far too many doctors and ER visits. I am still working on getting a new treatment plan as everything has changed so much in the last two years with pregnancy, breastfeeding and weaning. My desire to have more children is impossible to ignore. I dread and yet look forward to trying to grow our family more. We have three frozen embryos with no guarantee they will take. I dread the medications and the symptoms that they come with.Anyone who has struggled to conceive or struggled with miscarriages knows how you truly have to prepare yourself emotionally and physically for all that come with infertility treatments and the waiting game. What I wouldn't give for a surprise pregnancy. 

My hope and prayer is that we can start talking about this all more. The enemy comes to steal, kill and destroy. So NOT TODAY satan. Not.Today. In the wise words of Ali Wong "I have suffered enough".

P.S. Can we please stop asking twin moms things like "were they conceived naturally?" its rude and invasive regardless of how they were conceived. If I wanted you-stranger in the grocery store to know if my husband and I had sex or not I'd tell ya....

Ugly words

This week is national infertility awareness week. 

What an ugly word. Infertility. It just sounds and looks awful. I looked up the definition of that ugly word, and that didn't help either: Unproductive, sterile, barren. Ew. 

Not only is the word ugly but no one ever talks about it. Especially not me, which just makes the feelings I get when I think about it so much worse. Like it's an ugly secret I have to keep to myself. 

Anyone who knows me knows about my fear of giving birth. It's real. Most people laugh at my reaction to all their terrible horror stories of labor and delivery. But that fear of the delivery process has always gone hand in hand with my fear of being infertile. 

Growing up I always wanted to be a mom. I don't remember ever not wanting to have children someday. The Instinct comes naturally to me. I was always the "mom" among my group of friends, and I've been watching other people's kids since I was 11, babies love me!

But, here's the flip side of my history: when I was 13 years old I knew something was wrong. I went to a not so great doctor who without running any tests put me on birth control to help with irregular periods that I had been having for years at this point. (Sorry if that's TMI, but this might get worse so...)

Had this random doctor run any test she would have found cysts all over my ovaries that were causing not only the irregular periods but also the debilitating cramps days before, during and after, awful acne, excessive hair growth on my face and the male pattern balding. At 13!!! Oh and the super fun weight gain. Yay! 

Sadly it wasn't until my early twenties that I would finally get the diagnosis of poly cystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS). Talk about more ugly words. And not only do I live with and struggle with the symptoms listed above but I also have a higher miscarriage rate and infertility issues.

Getting that diagnosis was both relieving and scary. Relieving in that I finally got the answer as to why I was feeling like a crazy person; getting a period every five to ten days and not being able to lose weight or keep hair off of my face or on my head. But scary because the doctor was validating my worst fear... I had fertility issues. I, the mom of my friend group and girl with the body made for having babies, may not be able to have kids?

I felt like I was broken. I was not a real woman. I was not worthy. 

The worst part of it all was that I felt alone in my struggles, and didn't tell anyone. I didn't talk about it, and I still don't like to. I was, and am, allowing my fears and shame to consume me and steal joy from my life. It's easier to share something you were struggling with, it's much harder to share when it's something you are struggling with. And this is something I am struggling with.

But because of my silence, I'm not allowing others to see how God is using, and will continue to use my story, and see Him move. 

I still remember telling my husband about it all when we started dating, and praying he wouldn't change his mind and break up with me. In my mind it was hard to believe or comprehend that someone would want to date or marry a girl who may or may not be able to have children? Those fears were compounded even more because of knowing his story and his intensified desire to have biological children because of being adopted, and that made the conversation even harder. 

I've always wanted to adopt but I have also wanted to have at least one biological child, or at least have the option to decide for myself. 

Like most, if not all women, I dreamt of getting pregnant quickly or without really "trying". I wanted to go off birth control and get pregnant unexpectedly. But here we are a year into being off birth control and on medications to help ovulation, and we've had no "surprise" moment yet.

Because of the PCOS I don't ovulate, and without ovulation not only is it harder to conceive, but I also get very large ovarian cysts that burst (which happened this past December). The meds make me nauseated, mess with my stomach, I can't eat sweets or drink on them (not that I really need to ingest either of those, but on occasion it would be nice to do so without wanting to puke), and if I don't eat when I take them I vomit. They aren't fun, and they are just the start of fertility medications, and these side effects are nothing compared to the other side effects I could face in the future. Which can get overwhelming and scary to think about.

So here is where I'm at now: the past couple of months have been the hardest yet. Seeing pregnancy announcement after pregnancy announcement has, without a doubt, made it harder for me to continue to trust Gods plan and timing, for us. It doesn't help that people are constantly asking when we plan on having children or telling us we need to start soon because of Levi, or whatever else.

I know their intentions are good, but each comment intensifies my emotions and my desire to keep our struggles a secret. I often play the "we aren't ready yet" card, or brush it off, but the truth is Stefan and I are struggling with infertility. We already knew we would have a hard time, so we started actively trying to have kids a lot sooner than most people even realize, and we've been struggling silently in the process.

The truth is, just like with any season of life that is especially hard, or a season of waiting, each day is different. Most days I'm ok, but other days I want to crawl back into bed and never leave. Some days I want scream and others I am thankful we aren't pregnant yet. Sometimes trusting God is easy and other times it feels impossibly hard and just out of reach.

BUT with all this unpleasant stuff going on, there is beauty and joy in it. I say that because, on the good days, I have hope. I have hope because God is in control. He has a plan bigger than my own. And I have the most wonderful family and friends who are praying for us daily. Who pray for my heart and my body, and who pray for my marriage.

I am learning, and re-learning to trust God, His plan and His healing hand, which has never be easy, but when I do let go His peace overwhelms me and I am comforted. 

I wrote this blog for two reasons. 1: To stop letting fear and shame run my life, and allow others to know so that they can be praying for us. 2: For all the other women I know who think that they are alone, and are letting shame hold them captive in isolation. You are not alone in your struggles, I am right there with you. But not only am I there with you but so is the God of the universe who can move mountains, and He has a plan for you. So let's share the burden and lean on Him together.

These verses have given me so much more peace and comfort in this. 

John 16:33 
I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart I have overcome the world. 

Ephesians 3:20 
Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us. 

Exodus 33:14 
The Lord replied "my presence will go with you and I will give you rest"