HYSTEROSALPINGOGRAM

My second appointment with Dr. Not-The-Best-For-Me in November of 2007 was a Hysterosalpingogram. It’s also called a HSG test, which I like to refer to it as since I still have no idea how to pronounce the full word anyway! I was nervous because I knew it’d be painful and also because of course, as with most procedures, there were risks involved. Tell me the risk or side effect of anything and I’m always worried I’ll be in that minority that it will happen to. You may think that’s paranoia, but I like to think of it as being prepared! I’m a planner – you know!!

I was the first appointment of the day in the radiology department at the hospital and they got me all set up in the dark room. Unfortunately Nick wasn’t allowed in the room, so I waited and waited all alone. (As if I didn’t feel alone enough already!) It seemed to take forever before someone finally came in and said Dr. Not-The-Best-For-Me would be there shortly. I figured he must be delivering a baby or something exciting like that. I could sacrifice and wait for that, even though now I was going to be even later to work! When Dr. Not-The-Best-For-Me arrived, he apologized for being late. He said he was at home and had forgotten about my appointment. (Ouch…that’s nice…at least he was honest, I guess.)

The Hysterosalpingogram is an x-ray test that looks at the inside of the uterus and fallopian tubes. It determines the shape of the uterus and the patency of the tubes. A radiographic contrast (dye) is injected through a catheter that is put through the vagina and into the uterus. The uterine cavity fills with dye and if the fallopian tubes are open, dye fills the tubes and spills into the abdominal cavity. Pictures are taken using a steady beam of x-ray as the dye passes through. The photos can show problems such as an abnormal structure or a blockage that would prevent an egg from moving through the tubes into the uterus or prevent sperm from moving into the fallopian tube and fertilizing with an egg. They can also see from this if the uterine wall has any polyps, tumors, or scar tissue.

Fortunately, mine came back clear and everything seemed to be normal. Dr. Not-The-Best-For-Me told us that this dye test can slightly increase your odds of conception the few months following. It could be due to the flushing of the tubes that could open a very minor blockage and sort of “clean it out.” So, we left feeling excited for this month of trying. This could be the month…woo hoo!

This photo (not of me) is of a uterus/fallopian tubes/ovaries. The white is the dye injected which shows there is no blockage.

DR. NOT-THE-BEST-FOR-ME

When we started doctoring, I was referred to a doctor who I will re-name, “Dr. Not-The-Best-For-Me.” I refer to him as this because I’m not saying he’s a bad doctor, it just turned out that he wasn’t the right fit for me. I’ve heard many great things about him – in fact, my own sister, who used to work with him, referred me to him. She thought we’d be a great fit. Jesse had actually emailed him telling him that her sister was coming in to see him and to take special care of her. So, I thought since we actually had a “connection,” I’d be in good hands.

The first appointment was okay as I didn’t really know what to expect anyway. I left confused with all these terms and phrases thrown at me that I really didn’t understand at all. But after the second appointment in November of 2007, I just knew something didn’t feel quite right with having him as our doctor.

At an appointment where we discussed me trying Clomid, I spoke about how it took my mother 2 years to become pregnant with Jesse. Later in the conversation, trying to be funny, I said, “Well, my sister said that you better make sure to get me pregnant, so this better work.” Somehow that sparked Dr. Not-The-Best-For-Me to question, “Oh, is Jesse your sister?” I just couldn’t believe it, we had conversations about Jesse before in previous appointments. Wouldn’t that be sometime that he’d remember? Or maybe write down in my file?

Dr. Not-The-Best-For-Me had a nurse that I refer to as Nurse Not-The-Best-For-Me. She seemed to be as standoffish as Dr. Not-The-Best-For-Me. “No wonder they were paired together,” I thought. She wouldn’t smile or give any comforting words or gestures. It just shocked me that someone who seemed so uncaring could be in such a giving career of a nurse.

During a follow-up appointment months later after my first unsuccessful IUI, Dr. Not-The-Best-For-Me mentioned about how we should start looking at the next option, since this 3rd IUI was unsuccessful. I said to him, “that was only my first IUI.” I wondered if he had even really looked at my chart before entering the room. This raised my final “red flag” and Nick and I started talking about switching doctors.

Dr. Not-The-Best-For-Me seemed insensitive to my emotions. I honestly felt, for some reason, that he didn’t like me. He never even once shook my hand. I desperately wanted and needed a doctor who was encouraging and compassionate. I don’t blame my sister, Jesse, at all for referring us to him. He just wasn’t the kind of doctor that was best for me. He seemed insensitive to the emotional impact of my infertility, and it disturbed me.

I realize I can’t expect both physical and emotional miracles from one doctor. A OB/GYN isn’t a psychologist too. But at the same time, doctors should care enough to want to care for your mind, soul, heart, and body. After all, they’re all connected and effect each other. And I truly believe all doctors should offer hope.

I must say that I’ve talked with other people who have Dr. Not-The-Best-For-Me as their doctor and they really like him. So, once again, I want to mention, that I’m not badmouthing him or saying he isn’t a competent doctor. It’s just important to be comfortable with your doctor. So if something doesn’t feel right – try someone else. It’s not worth that extra stress in your life.

INFERTILITY: THE SECOND YEAR – Shock

October 2007 through October 2008

Actually, it wasn’t until after that one year mark, that I really really started to realize something wasn’t right. We should have become pregnant by now! We set up a doctor appointment with my family practice doctor in order to get referred to one of the doctors in the gynecology department.

We went to our first doctor appointments and preliminary tests. While waiting for the results, I wondered what news I really wanted to hear. Of course I wanted everything to be perfectly fine with both Nick and I. But, maybe we did want them to show something wrong. Then at least we’d have more specific reasons of why we couldn’t conceive.

As far as I knew, everything seemed "okay" with me. My periods have always been like clockwork and with taking the ovulation pee sticks and charting temperatures, my ovulation seemed to be right on schedule every month.

Nick’s sperm analysis came back with low sperm count. But not horribly low. The doctor explained that 20 million is a normal sperm count. And out of that "normal" 20 million, you want 10 million that are actively swimming. Nick had 14 million and 7 million that were active. So, 70% "normal."

My sister, Jesse, convinced me that this was good news. You’d rather know what the “issue” was rather than them not find anything at all. Now we knew what was happening and we could do something to help. Which after pondering more, I decided was true. I think about those couples who have “unexplained infertility” and it just breaks my heart. Doctors can’t find any medical reason or explanation for someone not being able to conceive or be able to conceive without a later miscarriage.

So, I thought – at least now we can try to do things to help this. Our doctor gave us a few ideas, but we did a lot of researching on our own. We looked for things to help increase sperm count. Nick started taking zinc, which is known to increase sperm count and mobility. Jesse looked through her medical books and told us about things to take to increase fertility, sperm mobility/count, etc.

Sperm…I never knew I could know so much about sperm. Did you know that sperm counts are higher in the winter (because it’s cooler)? And sperm counts are also higher in the morning? Did you know you should avoid lubricants because they interfere with sperm mobility? And to increase sperm counts you can take Vitamin C and Zinc. And things like using hot tubs, wearing tight fitting boxes, and bike riding can all affect sperm quality? And there’s more factors than you’d think. There’s the amount of sperm, the shape, and the motility. Below is a short blurb on Sperm from the Mayo Clinic.

From: www.mayoclinc.com
To achieve its goal, sperm must have three things going for it:

• Quantity. You're most likely to be fertile if you have more than 20 million sperm per milliliter of semen. However, researchers are finding that having healthy sperm (the quality) may be just as important as the total amount of sperm you produce. Of the millions of sperm in the ejaculated semen, only about 200 actually reach the egg in a woman's fallopian tube. But, just one is needed to fertilize the egg.

• Quality. It's not enough just to have enough. Sperm shape and structure (morphology) are equally important. You are most likely to be fertile if more than one-third of your sperm are of normal shape and structure. A normal sperm has an oval head and a long tail that propel it forward. Sperm with large, small, tapered or crooked heads or kinky, curled or double tails are less likely to fertilize an egg.

• Motility. To reach the target, your sperm have to move. Riding the semen wave will only take the sperm so far. To reach the egg, sperm have to move on their own — wriggling and swimming the last few inches to reach and penetrate the egg. Sperm movement (motility) is an important characteristic of healthy sperm. You're most likely to be fertile if at least half of your sperm are moving.

Next on the list of testing was my hysterosalpingogram. (Please see posting of "HYSTEROSALPINGOGRAM" for more information on this wonderful event!) HA!

During this second year of infertility, we experienced shock. After all the initial blood tests, sperm analysis, my hysterosalpingogram, rounds of clomid medication, and three IUI (inter uterine insemination) procedures done with no success, we were devastated. We weren’t enjoying many of our doctoring experiences here. (As previously explained in prior posts.) We knew the sperm might not be getting to the egg, so this should help it along. In an IUI, the sperm is directly injected through the cervix into the uterus. I like to refer to it as the “turkey baster” method! It’s basically assisting the sperm to get closer to the egg. About 20% of IUI’s are successful, which is the same percentage a fertile couple has of getting pregnant on their own each month. (Please see the posting "What is an IUI?" for more specific information!)

At this point we had done all we could do at our clinic, and now it was time to move on and get referred to the specialists over at the Mayo Clinic.

THE GRINCH OF MOTHER’S DAY

I admit I’m sort of a Mother’s Day Grinch. This year was my third Mother’s Day while going through infertility. I thought it would get easier, but no such luck. For the past two years, I’ve tried to convince myself that “this will be the last Mother’s Day that I won’t be a mother, because next year I’ll be pregnant!” But it hasn’t come true yet.

As Mother’s Day approaches, so does the dread. Some may think holidays such as Christmas or Thanksgiving, would be much more difficult. But to me, they’re not at all. Mother’s Day to those suffering from infertility basically feels like a punch in the face. It’s just another reminder of how we are somehow physically constrained in ways that most people are not. I would imagine it is difficult for single women who aren’t married, for mothers who have lost children, and for those who have lost their mothers, etc. There are a lot of people to remember on Mother’s Day, other than “current” mothers. As a woman, we all have that motherly instinct. Maybe it should be called “Women’s Day.”

Yes, we adore our mothers and want to celebrate them on this special day. But of course, there’s that self-pity we can’t get over, if even just for this one day. Don’t get me wrong, I do understand that not everything is centered around me and my inability to procreate. But on Mother’s Day, it seems that it is just exactly that. It’s like the world’s laughing at you because you’re one of those few poor suckers that can’t become a mommy.

I find myself dreading going to church because all they’ll talk about is how precious and lovely it is to be a mother…about how one of God’s greatest gifts is that of motherhood. They may give a message based on Psalm 127. In the third verse it says, “Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from him.” It makes you feel unworthy that you aren’t a mother. I just wish for once in the prayers, they would mention those who someday will be mothers…

On every Mother’s Day, I encourage you to celebrate all women! Those who have been mothers, currently are mothers, and those who want to be mothers. Don’t forget about those who are suffering with infertility. Truthfully, in our hearts, we already are mothers, we just need a baby to prove that fact.

So, Happy Mother’s Day to all of you blessed enough to be a mother. (I’m only a tad bit bitter!)

INFERTILITY: THE FIRST YEAR

October 2006 through October 2007

For us, the first year of infertility was just going through the motions. You’re hopeful that you will get pregnant soon since the definition of infertility is, “the inability to conceive a child after one year of sexual intercourse without contraception.” So, even though during that year of disappointments, you’re not really “in trouble yet,” because it hasn’t been one full year. It can take a while, and that’s normal. So, we’re still normal, right?

It was hard during our first year of infertility. We didn’t want to tell anyone because we wanted our pregnancy to be a surprise. Why tell anyone because we figured within a few months we’d be pregnant. But as the months passed by, that idea slowly faded. I think I lasted only a few months before we told my older sister, Jesse. I confided in her a lot and am so thankful we live so close. Only a few other people knew, some found out by “accident,” but after the first year, we decided we needed support if we were going to make it through this. So, we didn’t hold back. If the opportunity arose, I told anyone…

LET’S HAVE A BABY!

On our wedding day, May 15, 2004

Our honeymoon in Mexico!

My husband, Nick, and I met in college at Southwest Minnesota State University in May of 2001. We actually met exactly one week before he graduated, was moving home for the summer, then moving to Chicago in August to begin Optometry School. I was a year younger, just finishing my junior year. Needless to say, we hit it off, and dated long distance for 21 months while I finished school, student taught, and moved to Chicago with a friend in February of 2003. I guess you could say we were meant to be!

After two years of dating, we became engaged in July of 2003 and married in May of 2004. We spent our newlywed year living in Chicago during Nick’s last year of Optometry School, and then moved home to Minnesota in May of 2005.

We lived our first two years of marriage in happiness and bliss…just Nick and I together, learning more about each other. This includes all the great stuff and also the annoying habits we never knew we both possessed. How come no one ever told me marriage wasn’t perfect? Ha! Nick traveled to various towns in southern Minnesota for work and I worked at a preschool/daycare. We built a house and moved in during May of 2006.

We knew we wanted a few years to ourselves without children as we started our lives together. So now that we were settled, what next? Let’s have a baby! Our infertility story starts in October of 2006. Nick and I had never really talked about that exact time when we wanted to start trying to have a baby. It sounds crazy, but I literally remember just sort of one day thinking, “Let’s have a baby!” I guess that hits you hard. It was a strong sudden desire…the motherly instinct just kicked in. We briefly talked about it, totally agreed, and starting trying that month. Little did we know, this was just the beginning of a long and trying period of our lives.

So in love!

DON’T STRUGGLE ALONE

Don’t be ashamed. No one is perfect and we all need guidance. You can’t be strong 100% of the time. Ask for help. Asking for help does not make you weak. It requests the support of those who care, which is never a bad thing. Don’t struggle alone – seek support. Don’t be afraid to share your feelings with the people you love and trust. Reach out and others will reach out to you.

I’ve heard people withhold information and feelings because they say they don’t want to “push their problems” on others fearing that it’s selfish. Opening yourself up to others and admitting you need support is anything but selfish. Holding things in is only going to make it worse later on. Communication is key and by letting your feelings out, you will feel relief!

I believe healing occurs when you have the opportunity to share what you’re going through. Journaling or talking to others may help you get your feelings out. Feelings that you might not have even recognized you had. This will help you get different viewpoints and maybe even realize ways to cope. I encourage you to let it all out. Feel everything you need to feel! It’s definitely helped me!

A LETTER TO FAMILY & FRIENDS by Jody Earle

Here is an AMAZING letter by Jody Earle. It covers so many feelings felt by anyone going through infertility. What a wonderful writer. I'm so thankful to have found this!

Shared Journey – A Letter to Family and Friends by Jody Earle

Dear Family and Friends,

I want to share my feelings about infertility with you, because I want you to understand my struggle. I know that understanding infertility is difficult; there are times when it seems even I don't understand. This struggle has provoked intense and unfamiliar feelings in me and I fear that my reactions to these feelings might be misunderstood. I hope my ability to cope and your ability to understand will improve as I share my feelings with you. I want you to understand.

You may describe me this way: obsessed, moody, helpless, depressed, envious, too serious, obnoxious, aggressive, antagonistic, and cynical. These aren't very admirable traits; no wonder your understanding of my infertility is difficult. I prefer to describe myself this way: confused, rushed and impatient, afraid, isolated and alone, guilty and ashamed, angry, sad and hopeless, and unsettled.

My infertility makes me feel confused. I always assumed I was fertile. I've spent years avoiding pregnancy and now it seems ironic that I can't conceive. I hope this will be a brief difficulty with a simple solution such as poor timing. I feel confused about whether I want to be pregnant or whether I want to be a parent. Surely if I try harder, try longer, try better and smarter, I will have a baby.

My infertility makes me feel rushed and impatient. I learned of my infertility only after I'd been trying to become pregnant for some time. My life-plan suddenly is behind schedule. I waited to become a parent and now I must wait again. I wait for medical appointments, wait for tests, wait for treatments, wait for other treatments, wait for my period not to come, wait for my partner not to be out of town and wait for pregnancy. At best, I have only twelve opportunities each year. How old will I be when I finish having my family?

My infertility makes me feel afraid. Infertility is full of unknowns, and I'm frightened because I need some definite answers. How long will this last? What if I'm never a parent? What humiliation must I endure? What pain must I suffer? Why do drugs I take to help me, make me feel worse? Why can't my body do the things that my mind wants it to do? Why do I hurt so much? I'm afraid of my feelings, afraid of my undependable body and afraid of my future.

My infertility makes me feel isolated and alone. Reminders of babies are everywhere. I must be the only one enduring this invisible curse. I stay away from others, because everything makes me hurt. No one knows how horrible my pain is. Even though I'm usually a clear thinker, I find myself being lured by superstitions and promises. I think I'm losing perspective. I feel so alone and I wonder if I'll survive this.

My infertility makes me feel guilty and ashamed. Frequently I forget that infertility is a medical problem and should be treated as one. Infertility destroys my self esteem and I feel like a failure. Why am I being punished? What did I do to deserve this? Am I not worthy of a baby? Will my partner want to remain with me? Is this the end of my family lineage? Will my family be ashamed of me? It is easy to lose self-confidence and to feel ashamed.

My infertility makes me feel angry. Everything makes me angry, and I know much of my anger is misdirected. I'm angry at my body because it has betrayed me even though I've always taken care of it. I'm angry at my partner because we can't seem to feel the same about infertility at the same time. I want and need an advocate to help me. I'm angry at my family because they've always sheltered and protected me from terrible pain. My younger sibling is pregnant; my mother wants a family reunion to show off her grandchildren and my grandparents want to pass down family heirlooms. I'm angry at my medical caregivers, because it seems that they control my future. They humiliate me, inflict pain on me, pry into my privacy, patronize me, and sometimes forget who I am. How can I impress on them how important parenting is to me?

I'm angry at my expenses; infertility treatment is extremely expensive. My financial resources may determine my family size. My insurance company isn't cooperative, and I must make so many sacrifices to pay the medical bills. I can't miss any more work, or I'll lose my job. I can't go to a specialist, because it means more travel time, more missed work, and greater expenses. Finally, I'm angry at everyone else. Everyone has opinions about my inability to become a parent. Everyone has easy solutions. Everyone seems to know too little and say too much.

My infertility makes me feel sad and hopeless. Infertility feels like I've lost my future, and no one knows of my sadness. I feel hopeless; infertility robs me of my energy. I've never cried so much nor so easily. I'm sad that my infertility places my marriage under so much strain. I'm sad that my infertility requires me to be so self-centered. I'm sad that I've ignored many friendships because this struggle hurts so much and demands so much energy. Friends with children prefer the company of other families with children. I'm surrounded by babies, pregnant women, playgrounds, baby showers, birth stories, kids' movies, birthday parties and much more. I feel so sad and hopeless.

My infertility makes me feel unsettled. My life is on hold. Making decisions about my immediate and my long-term future seems impossible. I can't decide about education, career, purchasing a home, pursuing a hobby, getting a pet, vacations, business trips and houseguests. The more I struggle with my infertility, the less control I have. This struggle has no timetable; the treatments have no guarantees. The only sure things are that I need to be near my partner at fertile times and near my doctor at treatment times. Should I pursue adoption? Should I take expensive drugs? Should I pursue more specialized and costly medical intervention? It feels unsettling to have no clear, easy answers or guarantees.

Occasionally I feel my panic subside. I'm learning some helpful ways to cope; I'm now convinced I'm not crazy, and I believe I'll survive. I'm learning to listen to my body and to be assertive, not aggressive, about my needs. I'm realizing that good medical care and good emotional care are not necessarily found in the same place. I'm trying to be more than an infertile person gaining enthusiasm, joyfulness, and zest for life.

You can help me. I know you care about me and I know my infertility affects our relationship. My sadness causes you sadness; what hurts me, hurts you, too. I believe we can help each other through this sadness. Individually we both seem quite powerless, but together we can be stronger. Maybe some of these hints will help us to better understand infertility.

I need you to be a listener. Infertile couples have a lot on their minds and need someone to talk to. Sometimes a good ear helps people get things off their chests. A good listener can help people express their anxiety, anger, and guilt; or help people work out solutions to problems. Without offering any suggestions, your attentiveness and interest may provide the comfort and reassurance I need most. Talking about my struggle helps me to make decisions. Let me know if you are available for me. Repeatedly remind me that you love me no matter what. I need to hear it so badly. Let me know you understand that this is very hard work. Help me realize that I may need additional support from professional caregivers and appropriate organizations. Perhaps you can suggest resources. You might also need support for yourself, and I fear I'm unable to provide it for you; please don't expect me to do so. Help me to keep sight of my goal.

Let me know when you don’t know what to say. I need you to be comfortable with me, and then I also will feel more comfortable. Talking about infertility sometimes feels awkward. Are you worried you might say the wrong thing? Share those feelings with me. Ask me if I want to talk. Sometimes I will want to, and sometimes I won't, but it will remind me that you care.

I need you to be sensitive. Although I may joke about infertility to help myself cope, it doesn't seem as funny when others joke about it. Please don't tease me with remarks like, "You don't seem to know how to do it." Don't trivialize my struggle by saying, "I'd be glad to give you one of my kids." It's no comfort to hear empty reassurances like, "You'll be a parent by this time next year." Don't minimize my feelings with, "You shouldn't be so unhappy." For now, don't push me into uncomfortable situations like baby showers or family reunions. I already feel sad and guilty; please don't also make me feel guilty for disappointing you.

I need you to be honest with me. Let me know that you may need time to adjust to some of my decisions. I also needed adjustment time. If there are things you don't understand, say so. Please be gentle when you guide me to be realistic about things I can't change such as my age, some medical conditions, financial resources, and employment obligations. Don't hide information about others' pregnancies from me. Although such news makes me feel very sad, it feels worse when you leave me out.

I need you to be informed. Your advice and suggestions are only frustrating to me if they aren't based on fact. Be well informed so you can educate others when they make remarks based on myths. Don't let anyone tell you that my infertility will be cured if I relax and adopt. Don't tell me this is God's will. Don't ask me to justify my need to parent. Don't criticize my course of action or my choice of physician even though I may do that myself. Reassure yourself that I am also searching for plenty of information which helps me make more knowledgeable decisions about my options.

I need you to be patient. Remember that working through infertility is a process. It takes time. There are no guarantees, no package deals, no complete kits, no one right answer, and no "quickie" choices. My needs change; my choices change. Yesterday I demanded privacy, but today I need you for strength. You have many feelings about infertility, and I do too. Please allow me to have anger, joy, sadness, and hope. Don't minimize or evaluate my feelings. Just allow me to have them, and give me time.

I need you to be strengthening by boosting my self esteem. My sense of worthlessness hampers my ability to take charge. My personal privacy has repeatedly been invaded. Enjoyable experiences with you such as a lunch date, a shopping trip, or a visit to a museum help me feel normal.

Encourage me to maintain my sense of humor; guide me to find joys. Celebrate with me my successes, even ones as small as making it through a medical appointment without crying. Remind me that I am more than an infertile person. Help me by sharing your strength.

Eventually I will be beyond the struggle of infertility. I know my infertility will never completely go away, because it will change my life. I won't be able to return to the person I was before infertility, but I also will no longer be controlled by this struggle. I will leave the struggle behind me, and from that I will have improved my skills for empathy, patience, resilience, forgiveness, decision-making and self-assessment. I feel grateful that you are trying to ease my journey through this infertility struggle by giving me your understanding.

INFERTILITY 101

Infertility is the inability to conceive a child after one year of sexual intercourse without contraception. According to the Mayo Clinic, eighty five percent of all couples trying to conceive will become pregnant within one year. This leaves approximately 7 million, or 1 in every 6 couples, who have difficult conceiving and may need medical help to identify and treat the possible causes of infertility.

Mayo Clinic studies also show that 40% of all infertility cases may be attributed to the woman, 40% to the man, 10% both partners contribute, and 10% the cause is unexplained.

THIS IS FOR…

This is for my family and friends, my supporters: both “silent-behind-the scenes” and “verbal-and-right-there,” and yes, even the non-supporters. This is for anyone dealing with any type of infertility, miscarriage, or any other life struggle. This is for anyone who knows someone currently going through infertility or someone who will in the future, so they know a little more of what it involves and how to respond and react.

This for my husband and I, so we never forget. And last but not least, this for our future children, biological or not, so that they will always know how many nights we prayed for them to come into our lives and that they are truly loved beyond any measure.

MY ULTIMATE PRAYER

My ultimate prayer and hope is that by reading this, you can apply it to some aspect of your life. I pray that God can use it to help many others who are still on their way. Whatever your cross is to bear, whether you’ve had it, are currently going through it, or will in the future, please remember you’re not alone. Just keep moving forward.

I started writing because something inside my heart was urging me to share. I have a desire and hope that my story will inspire and help others on theirs. There’s nothing I want in return, I’m writing this simply because I have something to give. I’m giving my story of pain, grief, fear, and frustration. And I’m giving my story of happiness, trust, hope, and love.

Overall, I am sharing my story to help those going through infertility to know that, number 1: they’re not crazy. And number 2: they’re not alone. Because oftentimes, I did feel both very crazy and very alone. Even though neither of them were true.

I also hope my story will support and encourage family and friends of those who are going through infertility, so they know how to respond and react. So maybe, just maybe, they can understand and appreciate a little of what this struggle all entails.

Also, I’m writing this because I don’t ever want to forget our story of infertility – no matter what happen or how this story ends. It’s changed me, it’s strengthened me, it’s become a huge part of me that - believe it or not – I wouldn’t take it back at all. I hope my story can help and uplift anyone - not just those going through infertility – but anyone who’s going through anything difficult. May we always remember that God has a plan, which is sometimes bigger than the plans we have for ourselves.

THANKS TO…

Nick and I been blessed with the support of each other and our God. (“A cord of three strands is not easily broken.” Ecclesiastes 4:12) And also our loving family and friends, which have oftentimes simply, but so importantly been our silent-prayer-warriors.

Whether you’ve offered practical advice, said words of encouragement, written notes/emails/texts, whispered prayers, or dried our tears, you are deeply appreciated. You have blessed us with your support and we are forever grateful.

You know who you are…we love you!

I WANT YOU TO UNDERSTAND ME…

These writings are my infertility story. There are many people going through infertility, who are aching inside, digging for answers, and desperately reaching out for support. They are longing for love, support, sensitivity, understanding, and just a shoulder to cry on. There may be parts of my story you don’t care to or necessarily want to hear. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. But I’m not afraid or ashamed either.

I want to share my journey with you, not because I want you to feel sorry for me, but because I want you to understand me. Although, I must admit that honestly I don’t often quite even understand myself. But I do know that it’s easy enough to feel sorry for yourself. So, please don’t feel sorry for me. Instead – uplift and empower me to never give up and to keep believing that miracles do happen.

Fortunately, I’ve come to peace with the fact that I don’t know everything and might never truly understand the answers to all life’s questions. I know that life is a continual process of learning and growing. My prayer is that you can take my infertility story and apply it to any struggle in your life.

Ultimately, I hope that by my story, others might see the work of God displayed in my life and know that He is there for them as well. I know God will use this adversity to bring honor to His name and I hope it can reveal God’s power and greatness to everyone who comes across it.

MY STORY…

This story is deeply personal. You may think it’s “just a story” and I guess it is just that – a story. But…it’s my story. It’s my struggle… my journey, that never in my wildest dreams, did I imagine would be such a huge chapter of my life story. I’m no different than any other individuals dealing with complications in their lives. And I’m not claiming that my struggles are worse or more painful than anyone else’s. I just know that this is something I’ve experienced that’s ripped my heart in ways I never knew possible.

I’ve always believed that sharing life experiences is important in helping others to accept, cope, and to keep moving on. We need to encourage, support, and inspire others. And my prayer is that by these writings, someone – even if just one person – will be able to cope…with whatever their story is.