Friday, April 8, 2011

Breaking My Silence

All day long I've felt frozen in time while the world kept moving around me. I wish my insides were frozen. I wish my biological clock would stop ticking and just wait for our entire life to catch up with it! Today was opening day for the Red Sox. I nervously ate my breakfast and coffee, took Ethan to my friend's house and then excitedly walked 20 minutes down Brookline Ave. to the Brigham Women's Hospital. I could hear the excitement in the stadium behind me, but my mind was not on a ballgame. I called my Mom who was already at work; then called my dad to ask him to pray. I choked back the tears telling him that I couldn't believe I was about to have my first appointment. I've been waiting for this day for 3 years. I've been waiting for insurance for 8 months since we got back to the States. I've been waiting....like clockwork, I wait every 28 days.

I've also been waiting to share my story and secretly planning never to break my silence, to only go down this path with a very small group of people in the know. But something inside me resist everything about keeping this part of my life private. I will change the names of friends and doctors but I won't change mine. I will walk this out in naked humility.  It has formed my character in the last 6 years and will forever be a part of my life whether I like it or not. It is a topic that most women shy away from discussing, much like the topic of breast cancer 50 years ago. Now women come out in droves to show their support of those fighting cancer and we all proudly sport pink ribbons for the cause. Not with this topic. This topic is still shrouded in shame, especially in religious communities. And I'm tired. I'm tired of women feeling ashamed for something they have very little, to zero, control over and I'm tired of feeling alone. I'm not "coming out of this closet of infertility" today because I need to feel supported or because I need an audience. I'm sharing my story to bring hope and awareness to a topic that is often misunderstood and almost always kept private.  Sure, you're handed names of social workers, support groups, websites and mental health classes...but only once you're so deep in that you've probably learned to cope on your own anyway.  Maybe you had a sympathetic girlfriend or mom or husband, but maybe you didn't. For all those sisters out there that wish to remain silent, I understand.

The topic of creating a family is a private matter, but the medical condition of infertility needs some light shined on it! I'm not asking you to speak. I'm just hoping that through my experience you will feel the courage to share what you need to share, when you need to share it, with the people that you love. I hope that as one woman throws off the cloak of silence, others will feel the freedom of sharing our common sorrows and joys. In the past, I've tried to reach out to those who I thought would understand and was misunderstood instead.  This blog will open me up to all kinds of criticism and judgment. I've protected my fragile, broken heart for years now. I'm no longer afraid. This is my story. I make no apologies. The decisions my husband I  will make are our own. Each person knows their own pain and each person has their own story. I'm not asking for opinions, I'm not hoping for support. I'm just sharing my journey and facing my fears.

I've found that there are so many moments that are surreal. I can tell you the moment I found out I was pregnant with Ethan (the very day I had an appointment to pursue treatment), the moment my best friend told me she was expecting her second (we had our first together), the moment I watched that precious life come into the world, the moment I started injections when Ethan was 2 1/2 years old, the moment I was told there was no more to do, that the next step was IVF, and then the moment today when the doctor said, "Have you heard of premature ovarian failure?"

You may not know me, but for those that do, you know that all I've ever wanted is to be a mom. I didn't want a polished career, shoot, I didn't even think I needed a husband. But I knew I needed, and desired more than anything on earth, to be a mom. God graciously gave me a husband so perfectly suited for me, and a child that I think is pretty near perfection too. And then He gave me reproductive organs that stopped working in my 20s. And I don't know why. David and I both talked about how many kids we wanted when we got married and we both had always thought 8 was the perfect number. We laughed that we shared that number in common.

Today I cry. I cry that the 8 kids I've always dreamed of are no where in sight . Please understand that God has been so good to me. I will share ALL of His goodness…. how I've learned to truly live for each and every wonderful moment of this life, how deeply grateful I am for my husband and child and my very life. I will share how I've learned to hope and learned to surrender it all. I will talk about waiting well and God renewing strength as we wait. But today is my 24 hours to feel overwhelmed with grief and frustrated with my body and our situation. Today is a crying day. I'll laugh about hanging upside down, and about fertility treatment scenes in movies where "turkey basting" is discussed, and the times I've laid on a table with my legs up in stirrups and chatted away with a girlfriend on the phone like artificial insemination was a walk in the park and something I could surely multi-task through. I've laughed, but not today.

Today, I was told that my insurance will cover $5000 of the treatment that I need, but we'll have to pay at least $10,500 out-of-pocket…and that's just for one cycle, one chance at pregnancy. Today the doctor told me I don't have 10 years to wait. I don't have time to relax and just see if a miracle happens. I don't have time for my husband to reach his earning potential so we can afford to treat my medical condition. I turned 30 last month and some would argue I look like I'm still 20, but my blood work, my insides look like I'm 40. Today I'm totally overwhelmed. Tomorrow I'll be thankful for the amazing care I'm receiving, for insurance that will cover even a part of fertility treatment, and most of all for the miracle I have in my 3 year old son. But today, I will cry. Today I will cry when he tells me, "I think she needs a friend" (referring to his new pet fish). He wants a friend. Every night he tells me that he needs a friend in his room. And we pray and tonight we will pray. We will pray for a miracle and we will pray for the wisdom to use the medical resources in the way that God desires. And I will cry.

10 comments:

  1. i love you!!!!!! let me know if there is anything i can do! Sorry it hurts so bad!

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  2. God bless you, Kaitlin. Thank you for having the courage to break your silence.

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  3. There is no shame in this. Only courage for your honesty and hope. I will send all of my hope, and positive thoughts your way today as well. - Hollie Mahadeo

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  4. Kaitlin- I pray for your miracle with you. I think your breaking your silence will be only encouragement for those who also struggle with this and who are still waiting for even a first child.

    The LORD will use your breaking of silence for His glory for sure.

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  5. You've always been bold and brave in the limited times that I've known you, Kaitlin. You are a wonderful person :)

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  6. This is very brave Kaitlin! I still pray for you and will until you need a bigger house and a church van to drive around in! May God's blessings and peace surround you in the decisions that lie ahead, and may God grant you the strength to perservere. Praying and hoping with you in this journey.

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  7. My love and prayers go out to you and your family.

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  8. Kaitlin, I have no words for how I feel for you and your family. My mom went through the same thing, and while I can't understand, I pray for your strength to keep trying.

    I can't imagine a better family for a young soul. I hope your story inspires others to share their pain and lessen it.

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  9. Thanks for sharing...I appreciate your courage and join you in prayer.

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  10. Thank you for your sharing your story, I am nearing 50 and not a day goes by that the pain has become less. I was truly blessed by being able to adopt 2 step children. Although I truly love them with all my heart, I will sadly never know the joys of child bearing. I only know that because An Awesome Father looked down and had other plans I never birthed a child. My heart is heavy for you and others I do not know and some very sweet lady's I do know. Some who will never have known that experience of being with child. Or like youself not being able to fulfill that desire of multiple children. I am encouraged by your blogs, I tell my 2 now grown children. "You were not born under my heart but in it." I will now be asking God for Him to give you the desires of you and your husband, and you son. I have been blessed with my grandchildren And thank him everyday. I also know this is a real pain of heart, pride, and as I sit here and am flooded with tears it still hurts.

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