Adventures in Infertility

We haven't posted in a long time, so I have no idea who, if anyone, will be reading this. I (Jen) am just kind of looking at it as a public journal for now. It's going to be personal, and not nearly as riveting as Andrew's conspiracies or ways to get involved to save the earth. It's just me, and what's been going on... looking for anyone who can relate or has constructive ideas.

Since December 07, just after we ran the Chicago and Grand Rapids Marathons, we've been trying to conceive. If that's too personal, stop reading now. We've tried everything. We are educated folks, and I'm a nurse in labor and delivery, so we have a lot more information than the average 20-something who wants to have a baby. I planned to be pregnant in the first 2-3 months of trying. Why not? We are healthy, young, not overweight, not eating an abundance of junk food, get 7-8 hours of sleep a night, drink a lot of water, eat some organic foods, and have no family history of fertility issues. I've been taking prenatal vitamins since before we started trying, so we have covered all the major bases. Needless to say, 3 months came and went.

I didn't start getting anxious until about 6 months. Many of our friends who started trying at the same time as us were announcing their pregnancies, and every month when I got my period again it felt like failure. Andrew and I are both first born control freaks, but we are aware of this so it's fair game to talk about. We are white, middle class, educated. We recognize that we are privileged. For our entire lives so far, if we wanted something, we were able to work harder or smarter and get it. We've never encountered anything (at least not anything important) that we absolutely could not get. But we cannot control this one. We can't work a little harder and end up with a baby. We can't get more educated to learn what steps to take to have a baby.

By 10 months we stopped charting our cycles. We'd been charting for over 3 years by then, first to avoid pregnancy, then to try to achieve it. We just needed to stop thinking about it for a while. After one year, I knew that we had officially inherited the title "Infertile". This was my biggest emotional breakdown. At work women of all kinds were coming in to have babies... fat women, smokers, women who had been on the pill or had an IUD to prevent pregnancy, and even women on cocaine. They gave birth to healthy babies, both wanted and unwanted. And here am I. Young, healthy, and wanting.

Being infertile made me question myself as a woman. Being tall and athletic, I have always been teased. People have called me names: Jolly Green Giant when I wore my favorite green dress, Ogre throughout middle and high school, and yes, of course, lesbian. Now, this one thing that makes me distinctly woman, the ability to carry and give birth to a baby, is being withheld from me. Why?

Also, it's been a time of deepening faith for me. I have yelled at God and asked "Why?". I have cried, and begged, and probably tried to strike deals with Him, but still, here I am. Barren. Maybe He's not saying No, maybe He is saying Not Yet. On my good days I know that I still trust Him and love Him, and on my bad days I eventually come to that conclusion after I rage at Him for a while. Glad He is all loving and full of grace. He can take it.

Marriage. I truly think that a thing like this can tear it apart or make it more solid than it ever would have been without these trials. Praise God; Andrew and I are closer than ever. We can talk about all these things, and usually our bad days don't come on the same day.

At about 15 months of "trying" we got some basic testing done. We check out okay. That's great! And horrible. As control freaks we want to know what's wrong so we can fix it. Instead we fit into the category of "Unexplained Infertility", which applies to about 20% of infertile couples.

Meanwhile, our friends are now having babies. And more friends continue to get pregnant. We are truly happy for them. It does, also, remind us of our great saddness.

We are now at 18 months and met with the doctor yesterday. She is great. I am not thrilled at the idea of pumping my body full of synthetic hormones, and she understands that. Here are the options. Do nothing and continue to wait. Start treatments with drugs to try to treat a problem that doesn't seem to be there. See a fertility specialist and find out more options. We'll see.

We've also gone to informational meetings about adoption, which is something we both wanted to do before we got married. We always pictured it as more of a choice, not as our only option. We were told that if we conceive during the adoption process, we have to wait until the baby is about 8 months old and start the process over from the beginning. Does anyone have anything to say to that? Did this happen to you? What did you do? What are you doing now?

Friends and family. No one knows how to respond to this, and it makes them uncomfortable. When you run into someone and they say "Hey, how's it going?" or "What's up?" or "What have you been up to lately?" I can feel it bottle up inside of me and I want to regurgitate this entire blog for them, but how many people really want to stop and listen to that? The more polite response is that not much is up, and you're doing well, so I stick to that for the most part. When I do tell people, they either look like they would like to close their eyes and wish themselves out of the situation because they are so uncomfortable, or they offer some cheery advice to "help". Like this:

Just stop caring/trying/worrying about it and it will happen.

Look into adoption and it will happen.

Um, not helpful. I want to punch them in the face and run away crying, but I know they are only saying this because they have heard it said before or they just don't know how to respond. No worries, I'm going to tell you how to respond right now...

If someone tells you anything that is difficult for them, infertility included, respond something like this: "I'm so sorry, that must be really hard for you guys. " Then, encourage them to open up about it as much as they would like to. It really shows that you care and is way better than any cliche you have to offer.

So, like I said, for now we have a decision to make. I think we'll probably see the specialist, but as much as we'd like to have a baby we seem to be dragging our toes a bit. I just keep thinking that maybe this month will be different. Maybe if we are just patient this one more time it will pay off....

Setting myself up for another disappointment. About the 19th or 20th one, actually.