Why Them? Why not me?

I regularly think of things to post, and then immediately think of how that post will come across to someone else. In doing so, I have learned to remind myself that this is our story. This Blog is here to not only help others understand what their friends and family are experiencing (and what we've experienced), but to help those who are traveling a similar road to know that they are not alone. That there are others who have lived through or with their same feelings, thoughts, and experiences. That being said, there is one common statement that I have heard (and even said, okay SCREAMED) a lot over the years from others who have struggled with infertility is the "Why them? Why not me" questions.
Its something that has crossed all of our minds. Why are people who are addicted to drugs or appear to be fornicating to increase their government assistance check able to continue to have baby after baby? Why not me? Why not US? Why not the nice couple who have a nice corner lot in suberbia? Why not...?
I wish I had the answers. I still find myself asking this question, especially as my husband and I continue to be involved in the foster-care community. It never does get easier to see those that I believe are unfit parents walking down the street SCREAMING at their child as they drag them behind them, or walking out of the Childwelfare building large, pregnant, and high. What I have to do is remind myself through GRITTED TEETH, that I don't see the big picture. There is a purpose in everything.
I also have to repeat to myself what I consider my life verse...

Isaiah 54:1-3a (MSG)
"Sing, barren woman, who has never had a baby. Fill the air with song, you who've never experienced childbirth! You're ending up with far more children than all those childbearing women." God says so! "Clear lots of ground for your tents! Make your tents large. Spread out! Think big! Use plenty of rope, drive the tent pegs deep. You're going to need lots of elbow room for your growing family.

This gives me comfort. At this point in my life (with out medical intervention), I am not going to carry a child. I am the "barren woman". But I can't stop there, I can't feel bad for myself or focus on bitterness towards those who can conceive. I must focus on rejoicing in what I have. I must prepare my home for my "growing family". Wallowing in self-pity gets me no-where and helps nothing. I chose to act.

I have told you before that I don't expect you to act the same way that I do. I don't expect everyone to be comfortable in fostering or adoption. Neither act is 100% comfortable all the time, but if I could be permitted to give you advice find something to pour yourself into. I have wallowed, I have been nearly catatonic, neither benefits me, my spouse, or anyone else. Act.

A New Perspective, A Second Third Opinion...

Within a matter of two short weeks later, I walked into my small local women's clinic to meet with the doctor that I was referred to. Still over the moon with excitement, I read a parenting magazine in the waiting room, which I normally avoided like the plague. I stumbled upon a reusable Ovulation test kit that helped you diagnose the consistency of your mucus (sorry, none of any of this is pretty). This kit was really exciting to me, I thought for sure it could help me! I was going to share it with Dr. *******! Surely if ***** was right this Dr. would be just as interested in us getting pregnant as she was. Right?
Wrong. Dr. ******* walked in with my chart, a stern look on his face as he reviewed it. He shared that my thyroid levels were normal, asked the "usual" questions, and then dropped the verbal bomb. "It says here that you've been trying to conceive for four years?" (umm, yeah.) "No pregnancies?" (umm, no) "Why don't you just give up and adopt?" EXCUSE ME? "I can't believe ***** didn't suggest this to you. You should just give up and adopt."
Can you see my 24 year old jaw hitting the floor? I proceeded to ask about the proceedure **** had recommended, and was shot down with "its too expensive, just adopt". I showed him the item I was looking at...he blew it off as it won't work. He then excused himself and me, leaving me stunned and silent in the room alone.
My next steps are a blur. I remember making it to my truck, and bursting into tears. I sat in the parking lot sobbing...I couldn't believe that THIS was the doctor with the best bedside manner at that clinic. I was crushed, and spent the rest of the day crying. I cried on the phone while talking to my husband. I drove to work, sobbing. I spent the whole rest of the day wearing sunglasses to hide my puffy eyes.
I never did return to that clinic. To this day I won't go. A doctor dealing with women SHOULD have more tact than that.

A New Perspective, A Second Opinion...

After a few years of life in the Seattle area, my husband and I chose to move closer to "home". We had both grown up in small towns and wanted the same for our future children. We quickly settled into our surroundings, and I was reminded that I hadn't seen a doctor for my "physical" in some time (I am thinking close to two years?). I spoke with some local women (because...how else do you pick a doctor?), who referred me to a women's clinic in my area. Scheduled my appointment, and walked in the door on the day of my visit.
Initially I was SHOCKED. It all went down as normal...weight (shudder), height (shorter), blood pressure (normal), and a health questionnaire, but when it came time for the nurse to leave, she neglected to give me a robe. I questioned this fact, and was told that ""****" likes prefers to talk to you with your clothes on before getting down to business." So odd, I was used to being in and out of my Dr's appointments in under 20 minutes, and now we are going to TALK?
In a few minutes "****" walks in and introduces herself. She pulls out the health questionnaire and begins "the talk". Something to the affect of "I see you aren't on birth control...Do you WANT to get pregnant?" I respond with something snide like, "THAT WOULD BE NICE!" This time I am not met with sad eyes, but by a feisty little pixie who asks "How long" we've been "not preventing".
After I answer her questions she replies with some options. We could have a dye test done to track my fallopian tubes for blockages, which often get cleared during the test, or we could look at my Thyroid levels again. Needless to say, I have a new doctor who is optimistic and willing to look at getting me "knocked up" (her words) or at least getting me answers. I am on cloud nine. I remember leaving her office after my exam laughing (that has never happened before) and elated. I schedule a blood draw and a follow up appointment with one of her co-workers, who is a Dr. (she is a Licensed Nurse Practitioner/Midwife) and can prescribe my Thyroid meds if need be...

The Question

**Disclaimer: I am not pointing fingers, nor am I posting a "shame on you" post. I am speaking from my heart, and sharing OPENLY our experiences**
This is usually used as a general conversation starter, and honestly I am sure that I am just as guilty of using it with some of my friends. I do TRY to only ask my closest friends, and to only ask in a one on one setting. This is the "When are you guys going to have kids?" question.
We began hearing it shortly after we got married. Being a young Christian couple, this was pretty much expected of us. Marriage=Procreation. Shoot, this was what we expected of ourselves! But I digress, again. In the beginning...(wow that sounded oddly familiar)we heard this question primarily from family and friends. As time went on we heard it (say around the 2-3 year mark) from acquaintances.
Now where this gets odd, is when someone (an acquaintance, for instance) asks this question in the midst of a group. One specific time that this happened to me was at a Baby Shower (seems to happen a lot around pregnant women). I remember being in the group, smiling and laughing, when someone asked me this question from across the room. Talk about awkward silence. I had no clue how to respond. Thankfully someone (who knew about my situation) changed the subject by redirecting a second question. I wish I could say that that particular moment wasn't etched in my brain forever...but it is.
I am not always caught off guard, however there was another instance. A younger woman asked me the question, in this instance it was just three of us chatting. The third woman then proceeded to explain, with her arm around me for support, that "Karen can't have babies". I was irate and when I got home I swore to my husband that I would never share my "secret" with another human being. See, it wasn't that I was embarrassed, or maybe it was, but this was my story to tell. It wasn't theirs.
As I mentioned, I am not always caught off guard. I have had people ask, in a group, and answered that we are "just waiting on God". Or "Its in his time". Or my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE, "Not right now, but we are sure having FUN TRYING!" You should have seen my Bible Study when I dropped the latter on them after venting about this very topic! I have never seen so many women blush in one place, and really I wouldn't consider them prudish.
As I mentioned, this is not a "shame on you", but really I ask that you take it more as a public service announcement. The weather is a good conversation starter. So is asking what they like to do in their time off. "When are you going to have kids" is basically stating "We know you're gettin' jiggy...when are we gonna see the results of it?"
Plus, consider that woman or man might be struggling inwardly and may not be ready to go public with it. When it is time, consider yourself to be a trusted confidant. Honestly, I have been living with this for 12 years. Some people in my life only realized our struggle when I began this blog. I have been open with it for roughly 7 years, however its not normally a conversation starter for me. Wait for them, they will tell you when they are ready.

Beauty from Ashes

You know, I am finding that while I am able to laugh at myself I am not sharing with you the beautiful side of my life. I am so blessed. I have been married to this wonderful man for 12 years. During the pain and the trials of this all, he has stayed beside me. At one low point I offered for him to leave me for a woman who was not broken and his response was that I was perfect for him.
He has always treated me like a princess and from day one has referred to me as his Princess. He has given me the ability to love myself regardless of what my body does or doesn't do. He is by my side even in my lowest points.
During these first few years, he supported me through career changes. He bought a house, because I wanted it. He took me on some of the most memorable camping trips (remember we're broke young kids) to Osoyoos in No. Eastern Washington and to a remote camping site (we're talking drive until you run out of pavement, turn off onto the dirt road, and drive 10 more miles) near Roslyn, WA.
He also supported me in the adoption of a fur-baby named Bernard. This was our third adopted dog, and finally the one that fit us forever (we had just over 9 years with him before he passed this last fall). What a joy to always have that face looking up at me.
As you can see, even through all the grief and drama of trying to conceive, I was truly blessed. I can't imagine having any other man stand beside me. No other human being understood me. Honestly I believe that no one would've tolerated me like he did. The good memories are there, and in time they overshadow the dark days...I promise.

The Monthly Torment

I shared a few days ago that we stopped trying. The irony of "not trying" is that without an agreement to continue the rest of your days celibate, you never really stop. Oh yeah, you stop charting, seeing your doctor monthly (or more often), taking pills, timing your rendezvous, etc. But there is always that glimmer of hope, at least there is in the early days.
I have had (self-diagnosed) Phantom Pregnancies. Please feel free to read into this that I have imagined random symptoms and let my mind run wild. I have had swollen/tender breasts around my period (yes, I know lots of women do) and sworn that I was pregnant. I also have had "morning sickness" symptoms, including hacking and occasionally vomiting. Lastly I have had on several occasions gone from having a cycle that works like clock-work (28 days on the button) to being up to 4 weeks late!
On each of these occurences I tried to reason with my psyche, "Look, you aren't pregnant...You aren't pregnant...You aren't pregnant." And told myself, "I will wait until I am xx days/weeks late, and THEN buy a pregnancy test." I have involved my husband, usually only on the times when I am LITERALLY LATE. He is much more level-headed than I am on these things.
Often what happens is that I have psyched myself (and him) out to the point where I FINALLY take a test or (on a more recent late period)called my doctor. Either of those instances is usually followed (within 24 hours) by my period. Eve's Curse. Aunt Flo. Whatever you want to call it.
As I mentioned, early on I got excited. I might have shared with a few close girlfriends. I started picking out names, yes I know its crazy. Then once I started, I would hit an all new low. Sometimes crying in the bathroom. Sometimes sending tearful texts to all who were excited with me. And often (early on) not knowing why we couldn't conceive.

The Dark Days: His Reaction

My poor husband, remember he is also 22 years old, had no clue how to handle me. He became distant, cut off, and wouldn't react when I'd get upset. I took this to mean indifference. He didn't take this as seriously as I did. Maybe he lied when he said he wanted children, maybe he couldn't care less about what I WAS GOING THROUGH! Seriously not the best year of our life together.
He later he shared with me that he had no clue how to respond to this emotional train-wreck of a wife. The woman who had taken residence in his happy bride. So his response became silence, because he felt like "as the man" he had to be the strong one. Deep inside he was hurting, broken hearted, and confused, but because of my own struggle with myself, I was unable to see his struggles.
After months and months of this, my husband finally told me that we had to let go of this...that the charting, meds, poking, and prodding had to end. He was obviously frustrated and angry. I agreed with him, not sure now if it was so simple, or if it was a Biblical "submit moment", or if I thought that I would continue on my own (because I am more hard headed and stubborn than a mule fighting to go to a poisoned watering hole). Regardless of why I agreed to stop, which I seriously cannot remember. We did. Just as quickly as it began, we stopped talking fertility with our doctors and charting. We gave up pushing for a baby and focused on loving each other, after-all we had a whole life and story to share with each other.

Fertility on Your Head

I feel like its time to talk of the silly stuff you do when trying to get pregnant. You READ EVERYTHING...and try to follow as much advise as is possible. I remember reading somewhere that sometimes sperm, which I shall lovingly refer to as "little sailors" (get it?), need the help of gravity. So for MONTHS I would toss my butt in the air and lay like that for 15-20 minutes after our rendezvous. Another thing I heard was that some women have a tilted uterus (missing the technical term, sorry) and laying on their back with their butt in the air doesn't work, so I tried (without any diagnosis of said tilt to my uterus) laying on my stomach-ish in the fetal position with my butt in the air, again.
Honestly, if I thought it would help I would've even tried standing on my head. Some of you knew me in grade school, and know that standing on my head was NEVER going to work. I am just not that talented, but I would've tried.
I often imagine an image that I read in a book (Empty Womb Aching Heart by Marlo Schalesky) that a woman spoke of. She had just returned home from church, and was telling her husband of the well meaning older women who had surrounded her, after I can imagine word of her struggles with infertility had gotten out. One older woman suggested she stand on her head, while another was telling her to "just go on vacation" because that is when she (older woman) had conceived her first child. After the young woman shared her horrifying experience with her husband, they had a moment of clarity and laughed about some of the suggestions. Their short story in the book is ended by her telling him that maybe those women were onto something, she should "stand on her head while going on vacation".
When I think of myself trying every wives tale in the book, I imagine that woman. On vacation, somewhere tropical, in her hotel room, CLOTHED, and standing on her head. That image has always brought a smile to my face and given me a moment of clarity. So when you, like me, are having trouble seeing the light at the end take a moment and imagine that woman. It might just give you the same clarity.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/0764224107/?tag=googhydr-20&hvadid=8819029627&ref=pd_sl_48unqihg5p_e

The Dark Days: My Tantrums

After charting for several months, and taking synthroid, my doctor felt that my body might need a little kick to help me ovulate. Like many women just starting on this journey I was put on Clomid. I have known SEVERAL women who were able to conceive successfully with just a couple of months of Clomid. Sadly, I was not one of them.
What I became was a whole other person. My poor husband was now dealing with a hormonal psychopath, who would fly off the handle at the littlest things. (Remember, I am roughly 22 at this point, so not really a "full-grown woman" yet and still coming into my own personality.) Let's not even begin discussing my mood swings during "that time of the month".
Okay, let's discuss them. When "Aunt Flo" came to visit, I would burst into tears and go into a deep depression. I struggled to deal with my day-to-day life and I would cry for hours on end...I would scream literally SCREAM at my husband as well as at God for not giving me what I desired. For God making me an inferior woman and for forcing this upon me.
If that wasn't bad enough, I dreaded going to baby showers, hearing about friends and family who were expecting, and Mother's/Father's Day. I remember laying across my bed screaming, cursing, and crying over birth announcements. I remember tearing up (or avoiding all-together) church on Mother's and Father's Day. I remember getting that age-old question of "When are you guys going to have kids". After a while I would shrug and say (with bitterness), "When God wants us to".