Since my last post almost 2 years ago, I’ve been unable to come back here. This blog holds too many bad memories and some of the saddest moments of my life. But I never felt right with how I left it. I shared our story with CNN for NIAW. So here’s the update on us. Warning-there’s a HAPPY ending!
“What’s meant to be will always find its way.” For years I read this quote with hope and belief and faith. I knew that my baby was meant to be and it would eventually find its way to me. What I NEVER thought or imagined, is that maybe, just maybe, me being child free was meant to be. The problem with that quote is that we take it to mean what we’re trying for will eventually happen. The dilemma is that we don’t know what the “meant to be” actually means, we just assume that our dream is meant to be. And unfortunately that’s not always the case.
After many discussions and tear filled conversations, we’ve decided to stop trying. Since I’m a bad infertile and somehow get pregnant without medical intervention, I’ll be going on BCPs. I can’t believe I’m doing that.
I can’t go through another loss. And the only way to prevent that, is to prevent pregnancy. After 6 years of hoping that my day would eventually come, we’re letting it go.
I feel like the last 6 years have been on hold, like I’ve been running on the same treadmill at the same speed. And it’s time to get off, shower and rest. We’ve had heartache after heartache, and are still recovering from the financial and emotional toll it’s had on us.
We have so many things to look forward to in this life, and we’re ready to focus on things we have control over.
I wish it was a switch I could simply turn off, but as you most know, it doesn’t work like that. Am I sad? Of course! Do I wish our story had an alternate ending? Absolutely! But I know I deserve being happy and enjoying life, and lately I haven’t been able to. I’ve been bitter. I’ve been walking through life angry at the cards I’ve been dealt, pissed at my body for betraying me, and confused as to why “everyone” else is a mom, but me.
I’ve wondered what my identity was, I’ve felt lost and broken. I’ve had fun moments, that became lost when I saw someone else’s joy, or heard another’s story of child birth or pregnancy announcement. It reinforced that fact that I was missing out.
It’s time to find a new identity and create a life I enjoy, rather than focusing on the envy I have for everyone around me.
I still feel lost and confused. I still feel isolated when I’m surround by mothers. I still wish things had been different.
But I know in my heart I’m making the right decision.
I’m a woman, whether I’m barren or not. I’m a mom to the cutest dogs in the world, I’m a good friend, I’m a good wife, and I’m the world’s greatest aunt. The children may not be “mine” but my nieces and nephews are better off with me in their life.
One day I will find peace. I’m walking a path very few people travel, and I like to think that I was chosen for it, because I’m strong enough. And I gloat a little to myself that I’m stronger than everyone else I know🙂
So at 6 years, 4 months we are closing the door.
I’m relieved and sad at the same time. Relieved to leave the room where all the heartache is, but sad to also leave the room that holds the dream I couldn’t reach.
I’m eager, hopeful and optimistic that there’s something great behind the next door we open.
A huge thank you to all my readers who have encouraged me, supported me, and prayed for me on this journey. The greatest gift I’ve ever been given is the lifelong friends I’ve made as a result of infertility. The friendships and love that I’ve found have come from the strongest, kindest souls I’ve ever met. And I will never forget that. I love you all!
The d&c was yesterday. I think it was the finality of it that me all jacked up yesterday. I cried in the shower, cried in the car ride to the hospital, cried in the pre-registration, you get the picture.
They took me back. The nurse remembered me and also remembered that I’d been there “not too long ago.” And I cried again. I got the IV put in and Eric came back. Of course I was crying again. The anesthesiologist came in and asked a bunch of questions followed up with “is this your first pregnancy?” “No. It’s my 6th loss.” Fuck I was a mess. He asked if I wanted a sedative to relax me. Duh! So I got some Versed and I was high a kite. It’s a good thing because right after that he said my Dr was finishing up a c-section and then coming down for me. Oh FML! She delivered a baby and then emptied my uterus. What a joyful morning for her.
When she came in, she said she’d been thinking about me a lot and wanted to make sure I was emotionally ok. Well judging by my instant tears, she realized I wasn’t holding together too well. She said she’d have her nurse call me with a recommendation for a counselor she really likes, because it looks like it would be good for me.
After that I went in to the OR, then woke up easy peasy.
My Dr talked to Eric and gave him strict orders to take me on vacation and show me a great time! Did I mention I love my Dr?
So I came home, I was a roller coaster of emotions and slept and cried all day. It didn’t help that CVS was late filling my prescription, and my pain meds got off to a late start. But this morning, at least physically, I feel better.
In 9 days Eric and I are headed to NYC for a long vacation, and as cliche as it sounds, it is what the Dr ordered.
It’s scheduled for tomorrow. I saw my Dr this morning. Nothing is happening still. I decided to schedule it, get it over with, and move on.
I posted on FB something every day this week. I ended the week with my own post. This is it.
Infertility is a disease that is very close to my heart. Eric and I have struggled for over six years with infertility. For many years I remained silent and suffered alone. It took me a long time to realize that there is support out there, and even though people may not understand what I’m going through, they are there to offer a shoulder to cry on.
Often the strongest looking people and the happiest people are the ones who are suffering the most. Infertility has made me doubt every decision I’ve made along the way, made me question my faith, made me feel like I am alone in a world full of parents, brought many tears to my eyes, and forced me to ponder my purpose in life. You may be happy that this week has ended and you don’t need to see my infertility advocacy posts any longer, but for me, my struggle continues.
Infertility is about discovering who you are when you are lost and broken. It’s about finding a new meaning and appreciation in the simplest parts of life. It’s about letting go of the life you’ve imagined, dreamt, and sought, and accepting the things you have.
It is the road less travelled, and I pray no one I love ever travels it. And if you must, know that there is a world full of people who don’t know what it feels like, but surely will reach out and hold your hand, so you don’t travel it alone.
I pray that everyone struggling with the heavy weight of infertility finds peace in their journey, and may we be the parents we were meant to be in Heaven.
I’m currently waiting to miscarry naturally. I have a follow up appointment with my Dr on Monday, when we’ll decide the next step. So far, nothing is happening. Nothing.
This loss is hitting me really hard. For years I’ve wondered if I would ever have a baby, if I would ever be a mom. I feel like I just got my answer.
Sure people miscarry all the time. However after 2 consecutive miscarriages, further testing/fertility treatments are usually in order. I’ve already had the full auto immune and blood clotting panel run, all of which was normal.
From what I’ve read, IVF with PGD is usually the preferred the step, along with full genetic testing. There is no guarantee, after all this that I won’t miscarry again. And honestly at this point, it feels inevitable.
Right now, my FET is off the table. If I’m getting pregnant on my own with seemingly “normal” pregnancies that aren’t lasting, I see no point in shelling out $5000 to miscarry again. We talked about surrogacy, however if we’re dealing with a genetic issue, those embryos likely won’t make it either.
So PGD on our current frosties would be the way to go, but now we’re talking about doubling our cycle cost.
I wish money wasn’t a factor, but in the last 3 years we’ve spent over $25,000 and have nothing but a broken heart to show for it.
I’m not sure I have it in me for another loss, for more testing, for more heartache.
And that’s why this loss hurts more than all the others. Because its here, at the 6th loss, that I now know its not going to happen. It’s been a question for years. It’s been a very hopeful journey, where I anticipated the next step and eagerly waited for “my time”.
It breaks my heart to walk away from trying to conceive, but in my heart I know it’s time.
Accepting the end of this road, as abrupt as it came, is a hard fucking pill to swallow. But it’s time.
We have decided to speak to an agency about adoption. There’s nothing wrong with a conversation, and I know we have a lot to learn. Who knows if that path will be the right one for us. Maybe it won’t be, but the path we’ve been on isn’t the right one either.
So this loss is more painful than all the others. Maybe to some people “miscarriage” is a common occurrence and just a word, but to me, that baby was real. It’s heart was real, it had a future, and I “knew” I would be a mom to that tiny perfect being. And that’s all gone. Along with that, my dream of giving birth, holding my baby, bringing my baby into our home, has died.
And somehow, I need to move on.