Up Springs Hope

Guest Post: Cristen Powers

It was the Friday before Mother’s Day. It was also the two-year anniversary of my and Jared’s struggle to grow our family. It had been twenty-four failed attempts for a baby, dozens of blank pregnancy tests, and month after month of hope destroyed with a period. I was lying down on the couch, watching real housewives (I know, I know), when my phone began to buzz with texts. It was my little sister, Sarah. The conversation began with small talk, but my heart began to race because I could feel this conversation heading in a totally new direction. I looked down at my phone and a paragraph had been typed, and I knew. I knew before I read it. My little sister was fixing to tell me she was pregnant. My throat began to swell and tears began to fill my eyes. I read it at least five times. Surely this isn’t true. Surely my sister, who is two and a half years younger than I am and who I had no idea was even trying to get pregnant, is not going to be a mom…before ME. She and her husband were planning on announcing it to the whole family on Sunday to celebrate Mother’s Day, but she graciously chose to tell me first. She knew our struggle. She knew I wanted to desperately to be a mom. I immediately ran outside and called my dear friend, Kim. I don’t remember what I said, but I do remember I could barely say it. I was sobbing uncontrollably. I love my sister. I really was happy for her, and I had no doubts that she would be a great mom. I knew I would love her baby, but my heart was broken. It was my turn. I was supposed to be first. I don’t remember what Kim said either, but I remember silence on the phone. What could she say to help? It wouldn’t have mattered what words she chose.

I walked back inside my house, trying to catch my breath, and my husband, Jared, came walking down the hall.

“What’s wrong?!?” He anxiously asked as my cheeks were red and eyes swollen.

Very simply I said, “Sarah’s pregnant.”

In the most gracious and compassionate response, he sweetly said, “Awe… That’s awesome for them!”

Awesome?!? Really?!? That’s the best you can come up with, I thought. Why on earth is he not upset about this?!? How does this news not affect him the way it has me? Am I crazy for feeling this way? I’m going to spend the next nine months watching her belly grow, being present when finding out if it’s a girl or boy, and participating in choosing a name for her baby. How am I going to get through it? That was almost a year ago. Needless to say, that Mother’s Day was the worst day in our now three-year battle with infertility. I have the most precious, beautiful two-month-old niece that I wouldn’t trade for anything in this world…even my own baby.

But every time I look at her, hold her, and kiss her adorable chubby cheeks, a piece of my heart aches. The following July, my mom, older sister Beth, and my niece and nephew were all at my house. My mom and I were going to begin a fun day of canning fresh veggies from my garden. I walked out of the kitchen with my niece for a few minutes, and when we walked back in, I found Beth and mom huddled over the sink…both bawling their eyes out. I immediately began to panic.

“What is wrong?!?” I asked.

No response.

My voice rose. “Someone tell me what is going on.”

After a long pause, Beth looked up at me with tears streaming down her cheeks. “I think I’m pregnant.”

“What?!? Pregnant? Were you late?”

“No. ”

“Well why on earth do you think you’re pregnant?”

“Because I had three positive tests.”

My world began to spin. God thinks He’s funny now. Both of my sisters are pregnant. Beth will be the first to tell you that this was a crazy, very unplanned surprise. If you know her, she probably has told you. Lol.

We all three stood in the kitchen and cried. I cried for the weight of unfairness of it all and for the idea that Beth has her third miracle coming, and all she could do was cry. I love Beth. We are very different, but she is one of the best mothers I know. She has the patience of Job with her children, and they are two of my favorite human beings on the planet. Maybe, I began to hope, all three of us will be pregnant together! How amazing would that be?!? Well, that didn’t happen. Beth is due any day, and my womb is still empty. Every time I log onto Facebook, a new pregnancy or delivery is announced. I have friends who have had two children in the timeframe that we have never gotten pregnant. In one day, I had two clients announce pregnancies to me. I have several very close friends who are pregnant right now. It’s always hard to hear the news that brings them so much joy…but that reminds me of my empty arms and aching heart.

This past fall, after two and a half years of going in circles with my local OB, I went to a specialist in Nashville. I finally had a laparoscopic procedure done to check for endometriosis and to see if I had any blockages in my fallopian tubes. By this point, we knew something was wrong. I had horrible ovulation pain, and we hadn’t gotten pregnant after what felt like years and years. I prayed for answers. I prayed for direction. I prayed for God to reveal causes for our infertility. The thought of not knowing our unexplained infertility was too great to bear. He answered me. LOUD and CLEAR. I still feel nauseous when I think back to the moment my mom shared the news with me…

Stage 4 endometriosis (the worst).

One fully blocked tube.

Severe damage from an infection years ago.

Hysterectomy in five years.

I’m 32. I’m healthy. I’ve always taken care of doctor’s appointments and my annual exams. How could my local OB roll her eyes six months prior, telling me that I did not have endometriosis? How could she have missed this after tons of blood work and ultra sounds in three years?!? How could I have wasted so much precious time? How could I have to have a hysterectomy? Every woman in my family has great reproductive genes. Why God, why?

Well, the truth is, God may never answer my “whys.” He may never bless my womb with children. I may never get to experience pregnancy, breast feeding, crying at two a.m., or Mother’s Day. I may never get to use the boy and girl names I have had tucked in my heart since my husband and I were dating. But what God has shown me through these last three years is something I would have never learned without going through this extremely difficult journey. In a recent sermon, my pastor said, “There are just some things God can only do with you when you’re broken.” Wow. Truth.

He is teaching me to trust. He is teaching me patience…to wait on His time. He is showing me that I am not in control. I can plan all day long, and I can paint this perfect picture of what my life should be, but it’s not the picture He’s painting. During this trial,

there have been days my faith was failing and my heart couldn’t stand any more hurt. Almost always on those days, I have received random acts of kindness by other women who have once stood in my shoes. Women I barely know promising to pray for me. Women who know the heartache and pain of barrenness. I have received random texts and emails from our church family with encouraging scripture. I have received precious words from my husband. After my surgery, we received meals from our dear friends and family. I even have had a client pray over me on the spot after sharing with her my story.

What God has shown me through all of this is His love. He has broken me to remold me. He has taken my messy mistakes, my bad choices (that have in part led to our infertility), my sinful past… and He nailed it to the cross. He is my redemption. My sweet friend, Rebecca, who also has gone down the infertility road, listened to me after crying and saying, “Is this punishment for the person I used to be? Is this God saying, ‘Cristen, you should’ve listened. But you deliberately chose to rebel against Me when you knew better?’”

And Rebecca so sweetly answered, “Of course not. That sin is forgiven. And forgotten. As far as the east is from the west. God is working all of this for the good of those who love him… So if He says all things are worked together for good… That’s including your sin.”

Jesus has already written my story. It’s a story filled with heartache (that scripture promises us we will face), but it’s also filled with sweet, sweet music. My song He’s written for me. I have five…almost six…beautiful, healthy, happy nieces and nephews who I adore. I have a husband, who may hurt differently, but who is still right here beside me. I get to walk through this struggle with him. I have parents who are pretty much the best in the world. I have wonderful friends who have prayed for us and who have cried with me. Brokenness is so hard, but it is so good. God has brought me so close to Him in the hardest time of my life. He has shown His love for me through new mercies that come in the morning and grace that fills my broken heart. I praise God for my brokenness. I praise God for the work He has done in my life, and I pray I am able to help others the way I have been helped. I pray for all the women I know and have never met struggling with infertility. It’s a club I hope you don’t ever have to be a part of, but if you have become a member, I love you. You are not forgotten. You are not alone. God loves you so much, and He holds your future in the palm of His righteous hand. No blocked tube or stage 4 endometriosis or past mistakes are surprising to Him. He already knows what life is going to bring. He knew me in my mother’s womb. He knew two months ago, my world would be rocked when I heard all the things wrong with me… but it was no surprise to Him. We have a hope that is so much greater than pink positive tests… His name is Jesus. In Him, we always have hope. A sweet family friend, who went through this struggle years ago and now has 3 beautiful kids, said to me, “I got to a point where I stopped begging God… And I started BELIEVING him.”

I got a sparrow tattoo on my foot this summer from Matthew 10:29…as a reminder that on the worst of days, God loves me. He knows the number of hairs on my head. If He is present for every sparrow that falls, then how much more is His love for me? I believe He has so much in store for my life. I believe He has a wonderful, rich love story written for me.

I also believe this promise for all of my fellow club members.

Isaiah 54:1

“Sing, barren woman, you who never bore a child; burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor; because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband,” says the LORD.

About the Author Cristen Powers is married to her favorite beef cake husband of four years, Jared. Their roots are planted on a Kentucky farm where they live with their 4 beloved dogs.  She is a hair stylist, space decorator and Jesus lover with an infectious laugh.  She loves gardening, crafting, and all things DIY.  Current remodel:  uterus. Current craft:  fashioning human babies.  Up Springs Hope is a piece of that journey and she hopes you have been encouraged to persevere, rejoice, and above all, trust.  We will hear from her again as God turns her whys into answers and heartache into redemption. Thank you for sharing your story with us!

 

Read more on infertility in my category here.

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Photo Credit:  Joel Ham Photography

And the Lord Said Let There Be….

BABIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The Lord has blessed us with another child! We were so surprised! I didn’t know exactly when my cycle would fall so I had already taken 2 negative tests too early that week and I was positive I wasn’t pregnant. I’ve even been feeling pretty good, actually, which would have led me to believe I wasn’t pregnant.

Well, this time during my pregnancy test purchasing addictions, I bought one lone loser cheapo test…a cardinal sin of my testing buying snobbery. I had already used my good fancy tests and when I woke up this Saturday, I didn’t want to just throw the cheap one away and even though I knew I wasn’t pregnant, I decided to pee on it anyways. It was one of those plus sign tests which is another thing I never did: the plus signs. My heart ached to see 2 pink lines for 2 years so I stick with the joy of paralell pink lines.

I pulled Eden out of the bed and went to the bathroom. The test started working and the horizontal test bar of the plus sign showed up. Then I started noticing that a the pink test color on the screen started to make an outline of a white vertical line because the pink filled in around it. I thought, “That is probably happnening because it’s outlining where the pink line would appear if I was pregnant.” I put the test down. I left.

A few minutes later I went in to throw the test away and gasp, a pink plus sign! Forgive me cheap test! You are a hero of pee pee every where.

Immediatley my stomach turned and my hands started shaking. Also, my face started smiling. We tried for 2 years before and this time, only 3 months!!! I felt the joy of feeling normal.

I ran into our room where Lance was sleeping. I turned on the light and he immediately said, “No! We aren’t going to do this!!” He doesn’t like being woken up with light blasts.

I leaned into his face with a shaking test in my hands, “Happy 7th anniversary!”

“What is that?”

“A POSITIVE PREGNANCY TEST!!!!”

Disbelief and joy for us both.

This baby will be due just a few days before Eden was born. I’m like a wild animal. I birth all my young in the spring.

So far (knock on a plastic pregnancy test), I’ve been feeling waaaayyyyyy better than when I was pregnant with Eden. I had my levels tested because that actually worried me but all is well. I know it’s super early and some people like to wait to announce but I’m more of a pee and tell person myself. For me, it multiplies the joy to share it and the way I am, you’ll know if I’m pregnant, and you’ll know if I were to ever miscarry. Even if I didn’t announce my pregnancy, I would write on here about miscarriage just like I did infertility. I wear ALL my hearts on my sleeve and I’m comfortable doing that. I say hearts because I have a whole lots of feelings in these bones. So bascially, you’ll know what’s going on with me either way. I want to just revel in the joy of the Lord giving us a baby and not just giving us a baby, but sparing us of infertility for number 2.  I trust the Lord with this baby just like I did with Mrs. Eden.

We are having a baby, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Somebody do the dougie up in hur’ cause I’m feeling so excited.

I’m so happy I’m going to smile unicorns.

The Baby Chase by Holly Finn

My dad gave me this article that was in Wall Street Journal this weekend.  I don’t enjoy reading but I loved this article.  I believe it was an excerpt from the author Holly Finn’s novel called The Baby Chase.  In this article, Holly talks about her infertility and treatments and the unseen faces of the process:  the women who aren’t successfully getting pregnant no matter what they try.  Also, she talks about her infertility in the light of waiting too long to have children, leaving her struggling in her 40’s to concieve her first child. 

She is an AWESOME writer and it is very interesting.  I encourage all you scalywags to read it. 

Go ahead.  You know you want to.  Click here.

The Lines That Changed Our Lives

So here’s the dish.  I know a lot of you having  losing sleep racking your brains with how I told Lance the big news and how I found out I was pregnant.  I really want to help you be less anxious so I’m going to share it with you now.  Please enjoy.

Monday morning:  I got out of bed after a long night of sleep and felt like I had been hit by a mac truck.  I’d definetly never felt that way before but I only thought of it in passing moments during the day.  When you have been trying to have a baby for so long…eventually…you don’t take any symptom seriously.  Later that day I felt dizzy but hey, I do that all time with migraines and allergies.

Tuesday night:  I felt like my body had been running marathons along with rock climbing and kick boxing  and like I had been doing killer dance moves all day, even though I’d mainly been sitting.  I went to bed with a smile and thought to myself, “You are pregnant”, but again, I wasn’t fully buying the idea.  I wasn’t even supposed to start my period for 3 days.

That night I peed 3 times like a champion race horse in mass amounts.  Hmmmm…weird.  7:30 in the morning, I awake again to be a race horse.  I think to myself, “There are 2 tests in the bathroom.”  Then I think to myself, “You’ll be disappointed and you always regret taking early tests.”  5 minutes later I’m on the toilet, test in hand, fearing disappointment.  The control line shows up on the test like always and I thought, “See, I told you!  Doing what they always do when they are negative!”  Then to my disbelief I see a faint line appear.  I grabbed my face, gasped, and sobbed out loud.  I immediately stopped.  Was I seeing this?  I held the thing sideways, tilted it, stared holes through it, did whatever I could to disprove myself.  But the line got darker and darker and I held my face and cried out loud.  And cried.  Looked at the test…and cried.  I ran to the bathroom mirror and said, “I’m PREGNANT!  YOU ARE PREGNANT!  I’M PREGNANT!”  I took pictures of myself with the test, pictures of the test, and laughed and cried.

I thought, “I can’t tell anyone before I tell Lance.”  Next thought, “Who can I tell?”  So I called the Fertility Center as soon as they opened and told them I needed an appointment.  The receptionist said, “Date of birth, Dr. Name…”  I blurted out, “I’m pregnant. I’m so excited!”  Telling the receptionist wasn’t as thrilling as I had hoped so to make a long story short, I told two doctors, three co-workers, an 8 year old client who asked me if Lance would be mad I was pregnant, and my entire family all while Lance sat at work having no idea he was going to be a father.  I had NO self-control and enjoyed every second of it!  I found out at 7:30 am and Lance wouldn’t be home until 5!  What’s a girl to do?!

Here’s why I waited to tell him though.

When Lance and I were engaged, I gave him a scrapbook that chronicled our whole relationship.  I mean it had pictures from 6th grade until college, notes, tickets, name tags from church  camps, stories typed out of all of our memories…everything!  I had the idea 2 years ago when we first started trying to conceive to use the scrapbook for the announcement and I didn’t want to do it over the phone, I wanted to give him a BIG planned surprise the way I dreamed I would.

At 5 o’clock, Lance walks through the door.  I’m sitting on the couch with the scrapbook in my hand, heard pounding out of my chest so loudly that I fear he can hear it. I ask him, “Will you sit with me and look at our scrapbook?”  I thought he would at least say, “Let me take off my work clothes..”, but he didn’t.  He sat right down.

He flipped through the pages one at a time and I was a total mess and totally distracted.  Then he turned the page and saw something he hadn’t ever seen before, randomly placed in the book, right after high school homecoming pictures, was a new scrapbook layout.  And this one said, “The first time you heard, “We’re pregnant!”  In the middle of the page were the pictures I took earlier when I just tested positive: one of me holding the test smiling & a picture of the test stick.

He paused and stared at the page and said…”What?”

Moments of silence passed and then it hit him…

“SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!”

He turned to me and I was silently crying.  He grabbed me and hugged me so tightly and cried too.  Quickly, he pulled back, face grinning wall to wall and yelled, “NO WAY!  I DON’T BELIEVE IT! YOU’RE PREGNANT?!!!!!”  I pulled the test out from between the couch cushions just in case he had any doubts.  He laughed, jumped up and danced, yelled…he did it all.  I couldn’t have asked for a better response or a happier husband. Well, maybe I could’ve.  At one point soon after the announcement he got really excited and said, “Is that why your cheeks are getting fat?”  I looked at him sarcastically and silently and then he said, “No seriously!!!  Is that a side effect?”   Poor Lance.  So excited his commonsense went out the door. Fat cheeks or not, we were both elated.

So that’s how the story goes in a nutshell.

Each day I feel a little worse but I lay on the couch with my body aching and my stomach churning and I soak up every ache and yawn.  It’s the constant reminder that I have this baby growing inside of me.  It’s the reminder of everything I’ve wanted for the past 2 years.

I would say that I’m in shock and I suppose in some ways I am, but I have yearned for this for so long that I simply feel like I’ve slipped naturally into the role.  I feel so absolutely overjoyed and content that I’m calm and settled.

Very few times in life do things meet your expectations.  Then again, sometimes they are everything you ever hoped for. Today, I’m in the middle of everything hoped and I praise the Lord for this 1/25th of an inch blessing beating in my womb.  I’m humbled, thankful, and blessed as I type the words that felt like they’d never be written from my hands.  Thank you Jesus!  I can’t wait to meet you baby =0)

Toilet Tears

I unwrapped it. Held in my hand and peed all over it. Inhale.

My minds drifts to all the times I’ve done this and to how many days have passed since I’ve taken the first one. During this time, I’ve cried. I’ve laughed. I given up and believed again. I’ve been disappointed and hopeful. I’ve been frustrated at careless comments people have made. I’ve taken three tests for one cycle and then had to take one again even after my period started because, “Hey, this happens to people!” I’ve been embarassed to hope. I cried when I heard you were pregnant. I felt sincere jealousy of others for the first time in my life. I was disgusted with myself. Sitting on the phone crying to my best friend has happened more than once. Trying not to cry while talking to others? Too many to count.

I have felt so pregnant that I would’ve bet the house on it. I have passed fertility tests with flying colors. Eggs have been in places they shouldn’t. Computers have dictated my sex life. I’ve laughed while laying huge pillows under my pelvis and then been sad that I felt like I had to. Facebook statuses became my enemy. I have typed every possible symptom I have felt during the two week wait into ask.com. If I farted too loud I’d probably type “loud farting while pregnant in the first two weeks”. I have figured every possible due date I could’ve had on the online baby predictor calendars. Everytime I would hear someone else that had gotten pregnant, I could always determine how far along they were because I knew when I had to get pregnant to have a September, October baby, and so on. I’ve spent hundreds of dollars on tests. I’ve felt like the “boy who cried wolf” every month. I had an omish guy diagnose my fertility correctly just by looking at my eyes two years before the doctors figured it out. I let my doctor convince me he was wrong.

I’ve watched the Easter baskets come and go on the shelves, turning into stockings, two times, and wondered when I’d need a basket or stocking to fill. I’ve gotten great news. I’ve come to terms with it, all to lose those terms again. I’ve been angry. I’ve prayed and prayed. I had cameras and lasers go in through my belly button and places where the sun don’t shine. I’ve taken pregnancy tests during the wee hours of the morning and the late, late hours of the night so I could get the news in secret so I could surprise Lance later just in case this was our month.

I became a scholar on conception and a novice at patience. I named my babies…okay so I did that 4 years ago. I looked at pictures of a live birth and thought, no thank you. I’ve talked to people that I never would’ve gotten the chance to bond with if not for this process. I’ve followed the stories of others in my position and when I heard you got finally got pregnant yourself I told person after person about it even though you were a stranger to them. I couldn’t believe it was finally happening for someone just like me and I felt the joy and relief for you. I’ve had the way I was going to surprise Lance with the big news hidden in our house for over a year and a half now, just in case. I’ve sat alone in a doctor’s office a week and day late for my period almost crying as I sat there because the possibility that this blessing would be mine to have was overwhelming. I started my period 2 hours later. I’ve prayed for you little baby. I’ve prayed for me, future parent. I’ve pictured a little child in a car seat years from now that I can see through my rearview mirror and I imagine thinking, “Oh how I loved you and labored for you before you were even mine to have.” My soul has yearned and desperately waited on the Lord.

And as I sat there on the cold, familiar toliet with the test in my hand, the past 2 years floated through my mind. I stared at the stark white stick that had mocked me too many times and I waited for any trace of life on its screen. And as one line gave way to two, questions gave way to answers.  Face buried in my hands crying,  finally….finally… Exhale.

25 and Prayin’

Alright so I ovulated this week. Okay, so I’ve ovulated about 25 times, literally, since I’ve started this whole process but one of those eggs has to be a winner. You know, a regular prize winning golden egg like the ones in the Wonka Factory.

Lance and I have our 5 year wedding anniversary Friday and we’re hoping for a nice late anniversary gift. 5 years of marriage and not so much as a fetus to show for it! What is this relationship coming to? =0)

Actually, I have felt pretty confident about this month but everytime after the egg has been put on the market ,I start to think, “What if I didn’t do enough or did something wrong?” I was feeling okay about it all until we got a call from another couple who is pretty much in our same situation and they brought up using Robitussin. If you don’t know why you would take Robitussin while trying to conceive, I’m not going to tell you. Just goggle your little fingers away.

They were telling a story about how the month their friends got pregnant after 5 years of infertility, was month they  used Robitussion. Of course everyone has a story of what they did “that month”. Who knows if it actually had anything to do with their conception. Ridiculous right? Why should another one of those stories ruffle my feathers? Speaking of feathers…it did. I ran to my fridge and reached for the eggs. Eggs? Foreshadowing? Hopefully.

The story reminded me that I only used eggs and Robitussin before I found out that I had endometriosis. Why did I stop? Dear girl, get ahold of yourself and some eggs and come to your senses!!!!

It was 11 pm at night and Lance was working on his sermon. I delivered the good news, egg in hand. Then it hit me, this egg is too cold. It’s supposed to be room temperature. Hmmmm, time is a ticking and it’s late so what I can do? Ironically, like a mother hen, the only thing I could think to do was sit on it on the couch. I wasn’t trying to be a chicken but I really think they are on to something with whole sitting on the egg idea. I wrapped mine in a washcloth just in case my crushing 105 pound body would shatter my baby egg. AND, I wasn’t in a roost so no laughing. There were many differences between me and the mother hens.

The egg warmed and so it was finished.

We’ll see if now I have my story to drive trying to conceive couples nuerotic with: a washcloth, egg, and couch roost. As they laugh I’ll jiggle my baby in their face and yell, “WORKED FOR ME!” Man, some people are so judgemental.

Worst Advice

It’s hard to know what to say to someone who is unsuccessfully trying to have a baby. All of the below things are said by sweet people who mean well and in the words of Tupac, “I ain’t made at cha'”. But  let me help you out.  Don’t say this:

1- You need to quit worrying about it.

This makes me so frustrated that it makes me want to give YOU something not worry about. (Deep breath, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1)

And we’re back. For starters, there is no scientific evidence or otherwise that states that worry throws your cycle off. If that was the case then no one would ever get pregnant EVER because day to day the average person is worrying about something. If worry keeps your body from ovulating then it would almost never happen for any woman. It’s not like your egg goes to release and then thinks, “Wait, was that a regular worry thought or a baby worry thought?!? I can’t decide if I’m supposed to go!!!!”

PLEASE People!!! My gyno says only major life stressors (family member dying, etc.) have the ability to throw your cycle. If worry kept you from conception then no person who has ever had fertility issues would concieve. Can I get an amen from my fellow barren sisters?! Thank you, think I heard one from the blog in the back.

2- Just adopt a baby and then you’ll get pregnant.

Okay, okay a lot of people have told me this advice, as well as all these others. I know it’s all in good fun. No one is actually saying that I should adopt as a magic recipe to get pregnant. However, this phrase becomes kind of like any cliche someone may hear when pregnant. An example for someone who is pregnant with their 2nd plus child, “You know what causes that, right?” It becomes one of those things that you have to generically smile and laugh at.

As a sister of adopted siblilngs, I don’t know how to respond to that anyways. I usually just say something heart felt like, “Yeah I’ve heard of that” or “That’s what they say”.

Here are the facts people, that happens 12.5 percent or LESS of the time which is the actual statistic. Do you know what those odds are? Worse odds than what a couple has of  getting pregnant every month on their own which is 20 percent every month. Just as many infertile couples conceive after deciding to live a child-free life as they do when they adopt.  People think that happens all the time because you only hear the good news. You aren’t hearing about all the thousands times it doesn’t happen which means it seems more frequent because the good is the only thing actually being reported. I can accept that comment as a space filler but this comment gets old super fast.   This coming from someone who has plans to adopt regardless.

3- Well it took my friend 15 years to have a baby and then she did at 65. (Insert other similar stories)

Really?! Only 15 years? Well ring the bells and hallelujah consider me comforted!!! I understand the point of this story is to give comfort that, even when it seems like it’s not going happen, it can. And while that’s very true, it tends to make you feel worse. You don’t want to tell someone exhausted from the journey of infertility, a journey that makes weeks feel like years, that in just 8 plus short years this could be over for you!. What you need is to just take it a day at a time and not focus on possibilities but just get to place where you can accept where you are. Telling someone extreme stories like that is like telling someone with a diease, “My aunt had the same diease for 20 years and then they cut all her legs off and one thumb and now she is better!”  You don’t know if you should be encouraged or just look at your legs and thumb and hold on to them for dear life!  It’s the same with the baby stories.  Feel me?

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Pills, Poop, & Pondering

I don’t understand addiction to pain pills. They are great if you are in pain but at the same time, I feel so spaced out and tired that I could scream. They make me feel awful and good. Also, did you know that they cause constipation? Oh, I sure do.

Last night was terrible! Two hours of screaming in pain on the toilet and all at the hands of dear old constipation. I mean I could not think straight I was hurting so bad. Who knew your bowels could be the devil? I sure am glad Lance loves me because it all came to an end when he ran to Houchens and bought an enema. And then, gave me one. These things are little miracles in squirt bottles. It takes a lot of love to do that for someone. Although it also takes a lot of love and desire to get your stomach cut open and your organs burned with lasers so that you can give you and your spouse a child. It’s worth it though and I did get good news…not complaining. Baby or not I got fixed and that’s superb.

However, sometimes when I’m sitting here paying my baby dues and I look at Lance I think, so let me get this straight: I have had tons of blood work, painstakingly tracked my every fertile day, had dye pushed through my cervix to check my tubes, had surgery to get checked out and fixed followed by a 1-2 week recovery…then I’ll hopefully get pregnant, carry a baby for 9 months, go through labor, and then try to get my body back for a year? And what did Lance have to do, have sex hundreds of times? Wait a second….something seems off.

It’s hard being a woman.

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