The Pain of Infertility

The title of our blog 'Sawdust and Embryos' is a reflection of two things that define our lives. Sawdust represents our creativity, carpentry, design, craftiness, etc. And the Embryos? Embryos represent an affliction that doesn't define us, but absolutely has played a pivotal roll in our marriage, our family... our life. While trying to remain sensitive to our infertile readers, our little miracle baby girls are our world. And we want to shout it from the rooftops! But at the same time, infertility still lurks in the crevices of my heart. I hurt for my friends and family members that have unfairly been stricken with this affliction. Research shows that someone suffering from infertility has similar psychological effects as someone diagnosed with a terminal illness.

I was wasting time on Pinterest last night while Nick watched something uninteresting on TV, and I noticed that someone had pinned our Pregnancy Announcement Video. At first I was flattered that someone enjoyed it enough, or possibly was even inspired enough by our story that they felt compelled to pin it. Then I noticed that LOTS of people had REpinned it. And then I noticed a comment someone left on the pin. This is what it said:  

'whatever... it doesn't happen for everyone'.

My first reaction was to feel defensive. How dare this person assume that it was so easy for me? She didn't have a window into my immeasurable devastation and anguish. She didn't see me working 90 hours a week, shoveling horse manure in subzero temperatures, crying and whispering under my breath 'it's for the baby' while we saved for InVitro.

And then I felt really sad. Her comment is exactly what I would have said two years ago. I'll be the first to admit that, although we always hear the wonderful success stories, for some people, it truly never happens for them. They struggle in silent unspeakable pain. Years go by. Tens of thousands of dollars are wasted. And those poor women grow old with an empty womb, empty arms... a permanent ache in their heart. This is an unspeakable tragedy. Every woman should be able to feel little fingers wrapping around her own, little footsteps in the kitchen, fingerpaint all over the walls.

I like to think that our story encourages and inspires others to FIGHT! But I know for some, our story is 'just another success story that happens to someone else'. And those are understandable feelings. I'm not really sure where I'm going with this... but I wanted to make it known that this issue still weighs heavily on my heart. Please be compassionate and understanding when encountering a struggling friend. Their pain is raw and real.

Image found here

I know I've talked about this before on the blog, but I wanted to share some important etiquette for those that have a friend struggling with infertility. You may think you're being encouraging, when in fact you're causing more pain. The following article was found here.

Don't Tell Them to Relax

Everyone knows someone who had trouble conceiving but then finally became pregnant once she "relaxed." Couples who are able to conceive after a few months of "relaxing" are not infertile. Comments such as "just relax" or "try going on a cruise" create even more stress for the infertile couple, particularly the woman. The woman feels like she is doing something wrong when, in fact, there is a good chance that there is a physical problem preventing her from becoming pregnant. Infertility is a diagnosable medical problem that must be treated by a doctor, and even with treatment, many couples will NEVER successfully conceive a child. Relaxation itself does not cure medical infertility.

Don't Minimize the Problem

Failure to conceive a baby is a very painful journey. Infertile couples are surrounded by families with children. These couples watch their friends give birth to two or three children, and they watch those children grow while the couple goes home to the silence of an empty house. These couples see all of the joy that a child brings into someone's life, and they feel the emptiness of not being able to experience the same joy. Comments like, "Just enjoy being able to sleep late . . . .travel . . etc.," do not offer comfort. Instead, these comments make infertile people feel like you are minimizing their pain. 

Don't Say There Are Worse Things That Could Happen

Along the same lines, don't tell your friend that there are worse things that she could be going through. Who is the final authority on what is the "worst" thing that could happen to someone? Is it going through a divorce? Watching a loved one die? Getting raped? Losing a job? Different people react to different life experiences in different ways. To someone who has trained his whole life for the Olympics, the "worst" thing might be experiencing an injury the week before the event. To someone who has walked away from her career to become a stay-at-home wife for 40 years, watching her husband leave her for a younger woman might be the "worst" thing. And, to a woman whose sole goal in life has been to love and nurture a child, infertility may indeed be the "worst" thing that could happen.

Don't Say They Aren't Meant to Be Parents

One of the cruelest things anyone ever said to me is, "Maybe God doesn't intend for you to be a mother." How incredibly insensitive to imply that I would be such a bad mother that God felt the need to divinely sterilize me. If God were in the business of divinely sterilizing women, don't you think he would prevent the pregnancies that end in abortions? Or wouldn't he sterilize the women who wind up neglecting and abusing their children? Even if you aren't religious, the "maybe it's not meant to be" comments are not comforting. Infertility is a medical condition, not a punishment from God or Mother Nature.

Don't Complain About Your Pregnancy

This message is for pregnant women-Just being around you is painful for your infertile friends. Seeing your belly grow is a constant reminder of what your infertile friend cannot have. The number one rule is DON'T COMPLAIN ABOUT YOUR PREGNANCY. I understand from my friends that, when you are pregnant, your hormones are going crazy and you experience a lot of discomfort, such as queasiness, stretch marks, and fatigue. You have every right to vent about the discomforts to any one else in your life, but don't put your infertile friend in the position of comforting you. Your infertile friend would give anything to experience the discomforts you are enduring because those discomforts come from a baby growing inside of you. When I heard a pregnant woman complain about morning sickness, I would think, "I'd gladly throw up for nine straight months if it meant I could have a baby."

Don't Push Adoption (Yet)

Adoption is a wonderful way for infertile people to become parents. (As an adoptive parent, I can fully vouch for this!!) However, the couple needs to work through many issues before they will be ready to make an adoption decision. Before they can make the decision to love a "stranger's baby," they must first grieve the loss of that baby with Daddy's eyes and Mommy's nose. You do, indeed, need to grieve this loss before you are ready to start the adoption process. The adoption process is very long and expensive, and it is not an easy road. So, the couple needs to be very sure that they can let go of the hope of a biological child and that they can love an adopted baby. This takes time, and some couples are never able to reach this point. If your friend cannot love a baby that isn't her "own," then adoption isn't the right decision for her, and it is certainly not what is best for the baby.

So, what can you say to your infertile friends? It isn't your job to erase their pain, but there is a lot you can do to lesson the load. Here are a few ideas.

Let Them Know That You Care

The best thing you can do is let your infertile friends know that you care. Send them cards. Let them cry on your shoulder. If they are religious, let them know you are praying for them. Offer the same support you would offer a friend who has lost a loved one. Just knowing they can count on you to be there for them lightens the load and lets them know that they aren't going through this alone.

Remember Them on Mother's Day

With all of the activity on Mother's Day, people tend to forget about women who cannot become mothers. Mother's Day is an incredibly painful time for infertile women. You cannot get away from it-There are ads on the TV, posters at the stores, church sermons devoted to celebrating motherhood. Remember your infertile friends on Mother's Day, and send them a card to let them know you are thinking of them. They will appreciate knowing that you haven't "forgotten" them.

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I Remember

Its weird, because there are times when I allow myself to feel like a regular pregnant lady. Just another woman incubating a little human life. Like being pregnant is a completely natural gift to each woman. But then there are times when my heart aches for those that are still suffering, barren. I feel the two lives growing within me, and think about how unfair it is for me to have two... when others would give up everything for just one. It hurts to remember my friends who are suffering from a lack (or loss) of life. But I choose to remember. It's a part of me. At the end of the day, I'm still infertile. Endometriosis everywhere. Sometimes I stand in the mirror with tears in my eyes, just looking at my belly. Not sure if it's real. Sometimes I feel like I'm lying to myself and everyone around me; a fake. Maybe I've just been eating too many cupcakes? Could it really be true? Of all the hundreds of negative pregnancy tests I've taken, would it really be positive now? Do I deserve this blessing?

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NOT pregnant

All this time, I've been using the cheap Dollar Store pregnancy tests... because you're either pregnant, or NOT pregnant, right? So why spend $14 on a pregnancy test, when you can spend $1?

Well, here's why:

I have a tendancy to see little pink lines that aren't there. I convince myself that I can see a faint second pink line, and that leads to nowhere good. So this time around, I decided to splurge on the Clear Blue Easy pregnancy test... to leave NO DOUBT. It actually digitally spells it out: either PREGNANT, or NOT PREGNANT. It doesn't get anymore clear than that.

Well I wasn't prepared for how hard it would be for the test to scream at me... NOT PREGNANT! When those two words popped up on the screen, I literally said out loud, 'well you didn't have to say it like that.' I felt like the little pee stick was judging me, right there in the bathroom. And screaming profanities in my face about how I'm defective and barren, not worthy of living.

Didn't the pregnancy test company think about how, instead of 'Not Pregnant' they could have it say, 'I'm really sorry,' or, 'you look really pretty today.'

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Wait

One thing I've definitely learned through blogging our story, is that we're not alone in this dark and shameful struggle with fertility. The following poem was sent to me by a new friend who knows what I'm going through to the fullest extent. To be honest, I only make it about halfway through this poem each time, before I either start crying, or want to throw the computer through the window... you get the point. Statistically, you probably don't suffer from infertility, and therefore might have a difficult time identifying with me when I post about our stuggles to conceive. But we all have our own struggles, and this can apply to just about anyone in any stage of life. It's really good, and you should read it. Thanks Danielle   :)

Wait

by Russell Kelfer

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried; 
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied. 
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate . . . 
And the Master so gently said, "Wait." 

"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply. 
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word. 

"My future and all to which I relate 
Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait? 
I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign, 
Or even a 'no' to which I can resign. 

"You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe, 
We need but to ask, and we shall receive. 
And Lord I've been asking, and this is my cry:
I'm weary of asking! I need a reply." 

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate, 
As my Master replied again, "Wait." 
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut, 
And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting for what?" 

He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine . . . 
and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign. 
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun. 
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.

"I could give all you seek and pleased you would be. 
You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me. 

You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint. 
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint."You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;
You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
When darkness and silence are all you can see.

"You'd never experience the fullness of love
When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.

"The glow of my comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.

"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I'm doing in you.

"So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait."

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Selfish Me

Sometimes, I like to think of myself as a strong, confident, and independent woman. But the fact of the matter is, I'm none of the above. I wish that I could say I deal with disappointment and tragedy with grace and style... but the truth? I'm a sad little pouting girl, crying until I burst a blood-vessel in my face. I get mad at God, infuriated by pregnant women, and hostile toward innocent small children. What is wrong with me? How do others deal with the bumps in life with such poise and dignity?

Lately I've been feeling ugly, and skinny, and infertile. All my closest friends are either purposefully or accidentally pregnant. I emerse myself in my husband, as well as finding creative ways to make money. Then I throw a pity party for myself when I think about how the act of conception should be simple, heartfelt, an act of love... not to mention FREE.

Thanks to you all who have either offered encouraging words, donated monetarily, or participated in our baby-fund via backsplash painting. It means so much to know there are so many that are rooting for us, and praying (though I'm doubtful praying does much good these days). I hope to be able to share good news some day soon. Until then, thanks for sticking around as our disheveled, reckless, honest story unfolds.

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Empty

I realize I haven't talked much about my inactive reproductive system lately. That's partly to spare you all of my cynicism, but it's also because I've effectively distracted myself... by life. Keeping busy, working lots, crafting, home improvements here and there, painting backsplashes just about every weekend. It all keeps my mind off the only thing that really matters to me. You might consider this denial. But I just consider it survival.

If I ever write a book, it'll be called 'What to Expect When You're NOT Expecting.'

We're getting closer and closer to our goal to Build-a-Baby... almost halfway!! We don't talk about it very often, and I only cry about once a week now. Nick and I love spending time together, but it doesn't happen as often as we'd like. I wish we could be busy because we're driving our kids to soccer practice and saxophone lessons and little league games. That business would be acceptable and justified. And preferred.

I want to thank all of you who have sent words of encouragement... strangers even. You have no idea what it means to feel your support, and hear your similar stories. It helps me remember that I'm not alone.

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To say, or not to say

My cousin Alyssa referred me to a great blog, written by a woman facing similar issues as I with regards to infertility. I found it very comforting to read some of the things she has gone through and how she is able to cope.

Many people don't know what to say, so they either say nothing, or they say something very hurtful without even knowing it. Below is an excerpt from her blog. I found it to be very interesting, and profoundly true.

Top 6 things to say to a woman struggling to conceive

Due to the sexual nature of infertility there is a shame and stigma attached to this life and medical crisis. Bringing awareness is key to changing the way people feel about and react to the issue of infertility.  

Simply acknowledging those suffering will help fortify their spirits.  Here are some things you can say:  

1. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you. 

2. I am sorry you are going through this. 

3. I don’t know what to say, but I am here for you. 

4. Do you want to talk about it? 

5. I will support whatever decisions you make. 

6. What can I do to help? 

Studies have shown that infertility is as stressful as battling cancer or being diagnosed with a disease such as diabetes or HIV.  Offer the same support you would to someone who had lost a loved one or was battling a life-threatening disease.  

Be respectful and try to understand their grief.  Infertility is extremely difficult emotionally, physically, and financially.  Relationships suffer and some fail due to the stress, and repeated disappointments.  Acknowledging their pain and not minimizing it, goes a long way.
 

Top 6 things NOT to say to a woman trying to conceive

1. “Just Relax.” 

It minimizes a diagnosable medical problem. These type of comments add to their stress.  Would you tell someone with cancer to just relax?  I didn’t think so.

2. “Enjoy being able to travel, sleep late, have free time, etc.”  
Being able sleep late does not provide comfort to someone who has always dreamed of being a parent.  Your hectic life making memories sounds pretty good compared to an empty house wondering if you will ever be a part of “first steps”, soccer games, watching your child graduate. Would you tell someone who just lost their home how lucky they are now that they don’t have a lawn to mow?
3. “Maybe you aren’t meant to be a mom/dad.”
 Do you notice all the abusive, neglectful, drug-addicted parents out there? Do they ‘deserve’ to be parents??? Enough said.

4. “Why don’t you just adopt?” 
Do you ask this of ‘fertile” couples?  Why not?  Many people dream of having a child that is biologically related to them, to experience pregnancy, and birth. Many infertiles become parents by adoption, but adoption is not easy or  inexpensive. It is it’s own difficult journey.

 5. “You should try THIS!” 

Infertility is a complicated problem to diagnose and you probably do not know all the facts. Don’t play doctor and don’t give unsolicited advice.  Anyone dealing with infertility has seriously considered or tried IVF, if they can afford it.  In-Vitro Fertilization is very costly.  If you are under 40 your chances for success are around 25% at a cost of at least $12,000 a try.  Maybe for medical reasons they cannot pursue IVF.  Alternative health practices may work for you and you can mention it, but don’t push it.  You have no idea how much they have researched and tried to figure out what will work for their situation. It is disrespectful to push your treatment plan.

6. “Being pregnant isn’t fun” 

If you are pregnant, do not complain about your pregnancy to someone struggling to have a baby.  Leave these complaints for others that have children. It is painful enough to be infertile and be surrounded by women that easily get pregnant, to watch their bellies grow. Your infertile friend would give and do ANYTHING to feel your discomfort, weight gain, etc.   

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Hostility

If you know me at all, you know I'm not a planner. I get a certain thrill out of being spontaneous and impulsive. I don't need to know what comes next in life. But subconsciously, I've planned on one thing my whole life: one day I would have babies, lots of babies.

I try not to be too cynical and negative on my blog, but I'm feeling a little hostile today. Hostile in such a way that I probably shouldn't be blogging. 

So I'll stop now.

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It's for the baby...

I haven't been the most pleasant person to be around as of late. And therefore have been pushing my friends away in an effort to spare them the negativity that emanates all around me. But it's more than just hostility... I genuinely feel like my life has been totaled, and it's hard for me to fake a good attitude. I would be a terrible waitress.

This turbulence in our lives has brought Nick and I together on a deep and profound level. I didn't know that my heart could love someone this much. Our time together is precious, especially now that we're working a combined 115 hours each week in an effort to save money for InVitro. We're on a rampage to save $12,000 to conceive a child, and as such, have banded together, working 2-3 jobs each, selling our possessions, living on the bare minimum. And when I'm hating my job or at the end of my rope, I just remind myself... 'it's for the baby.' I tell myself that multiple times a day. Because I know in the end, it will be so worth it.

It's amazing what you can live on if you want something bad enough. Nick and I are learning different creative ways to save money, clipping coupons, patching old jeans instead of buying new, buying generic everything... and only necessities, carpooling, eating less, taking leftovers for lunches, keeping the house at 60 degrees, and working as many hours as humanly possible. It will all add up! And hopefully sooner than later.

If you have any money saving tips... please share them!!!

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Dear Uterus

Dear Uterus,

I hate you with all the fires of hell. You have made me miserable for years, and the only thing that got me through it was knowing that it would be worth all the horrible menstral cramps and pelvic pain once I hold my own flesh and blood for the first time.  But now I know the truth about you. You've flung your Endometrial garbage all over my falopian tubes, ovaries, and even up into my lungs, ... tissue that is meant to serve as nourishment for a growing child. That tissue has built up over the years and caused irreversible damage and scar tissue, making it likely impossible for us to conceive, which is the only thing I want out of life. You've caused me unspeakable pain, both physically and emotionally. I hate you. You make me feel like an inadequate woman, incapable of sustaining the life of a child. A blessing that most take for granted, or even wish they weren't given. I wish I could take out all my anger and pain on you instead of those that are close to me. You've cost us hundreds of dollars, and in the end, will cost us tens of thousands of dollars, because I will not let you win. And when I get what I want from you, I will have you eradicated from my body ...banished forever. You will no longer follow me around everywhere I go, inhabiting my body and my life. Consider yourself an outcast amongst my organs.

Warm Regards,
Bethany

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Full Disclosure...

I've come to a point where sharing my innermost thoughts may in fact be therapeutic for me, so instead of hibernating in my own pitiful darkness and shutting everyone out, I've decided to let you all in and invite you to pray for me and keep me accountable.

For so long, I've been terrified to let you in on my secret. Ashamed. And since this topic is discussed so little in our society, I felt it must be socially inappropriate to open up about the one thing that plagues my heart and marriage on a daily basis.

God gave women an innate maternal need to reproduce and cultivate young lives... children, babies, their own offspring. For as long as I can remember, my sole purpose in life has been to get married and be a mom.

We were hoping for a "baby-makin' honeymoon," but instead, we've endured a year of heart wrenching anxiety, actively trying to conceive. My heart used to go out to those struggling with infertility, I would think "how devastating for that poor woman, I honestly can't think of anything worse. I'm so glad that's not me." And yet now, my own personal nightmare has invaded my life and my home.

Nick has been loving and supportive, and he shares in my grief. It's a longing that has been ingrained into both of our hearts. In some ways, it's been hard on our marriage, because the first year should be carefree and whimsical. But in other ways, it's brought us very close and allowed us to love each other on a deep and meaningful level.

Friends and family would say, "It hasn't even been a year yet, give it some time." Or, "stop trying and that's when it'll happen." Or, "sometimes it just takes a year or two, and then you won't be able to STOP popping them out." You may even be thinking those things right now. But in my heart, I knew something was wrong.

We've been seeing a fertility doctor now for 3 months. Last week I underwent surgery. A surgery that's meant to check the reproductive system for Endometriosis, and if present, clear it out. Which for most women means they will likely get pregnant in the next few months. But for me, they found Stage 4 Endometriosis, an explosion of cysts all over my uterus, falopian tubes and ovaries. The doctor was able to clear some of it out, but the prognosis is not good. We've been told by our doctor, that with cases this bad, it's nearly a medical impossibility to conceive without InVitro Fertilization. A procedure that cost $12,000 and isn't covered by insurance.

The last week has been one of painful recovery, both physically and emotionally. How is this happening to ME? Of all the skanky little teenagers that get pregnant after a drunken one-night stand, and considering the fact that 60% of all pregnancies happened by ACCIDENT.... and don't even get me started on abortion. Why do their ovaries function, but not mine?

I'm a healthy, active 27-year-old, who has waited patiently for many years for God to bring me my husband, and for us to be financially stable and own a spacious home in the country, with several acres for kids to run and play, to be ready for a family. Only to be diagnosed with a condition that will only worsen and eventually give me cause to have a complete hysterectomy. Where's the fairness in that?

I know that most Christians would be strong and persevere, and think to themselves, "I know God has a plan for me, and I'm sure he has a purpose for giving me this trial, and surely He knows what's best for me, I'll probably be a stronger person in the end.... blah blah blah."  But I'm just gonna be straight up with you... God and I aren't on the best of terms right now. We're experiencing a tense relationship. Go ahead and judge me, because it's true, I'm a weak, pathetic Christian.

There you have it folks. I've laid it out there. I'm exposed.

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