Going Back a Year...

Emotion is so hard to capture outside a moment. I knew that when I decided not to write about the treatments in real time. I just couldn't. Once we made the decision to try one last time, to give IVF one shot, I just went silent. It was too emotional, too hard to put it all out there, too hard to even put it in "print" privately. It was all I could do to just walk it out and put my heart and hopes in God's hands.

It was a year ago today I took the home pregnancy test...or at least I think. I remember taking the test when I got back from Greatdaddy's funeral.  David was still in Oklahoma, flying back the next day. I had to get back for work on Monday. Two lines were visible immediately, not like the barely-there-had-to-imagine-line I got with Ethan. I wasn't scared with Ethan. I was immediately over-the-moon happy. I felt happy this time, too, but also strangely disbelieving and the fear was already creeping in.

In the IVF preparation class, the nurses advised us not to take a home test because you are scheduled for a more accurate blood test 2 weeks after the transfer, anyway, and they try to encourage couples to minimize the emotions...your body is high on hormones that might skew the test anyway. But there was no way in hell I was going to wait for a phone call after a blood test...I was grasping for anything that would make the process feel more normal again.

I had been doing injections and blood work and ultrasounds for weeks. Many days I had to be at the hospital by 7:00 am for a blood test and ultrasound before work at 8.  The injections were broken down into one week of suppressing drugs (one injection a day), 2 weeks of stimulating hormones (two injections a day), and one shot for the LH surge that would get the eggs ready to release--a hormonal and emotional roller coaster ride to say the least. The tears well in my eyes even to recall these small details. In fact, I've read many an infertility blog and I never could understand how women put every detail...day 1:_____, day 2____...this many eggs retrieved, this many mature, this many fertilized, and transferred...my heart was too fragile for a play-by-play.  Still is.

I remember laughing one morning at the memory of being scared of needles as a child, "Wow, look at me now, giving myself a shot in my stomach!" I'll never forget the day of the egg retrieval...the horrible pain I was in for the next 24 hours, on heavy pain killers just to try to take the edge off enough to sleep through the recovery. It's not painful for everyone. You're put under for the actual procedure, but I had bleeding into the lining of my abdomen and I was in quite a bit of pain from the moment I woke. I remember joking with David in that super sterile environment, with nurses coming and going, that some people (actually, most people) get pregnant having SEX.
What a novel idea.

But even as I joked about the craziness of baby making in an IVF department, it still hurt. It hurt to be reminded that while others were upset when they accidentally got pregnant, we had come to THIS place...this far to try to make our dreams come true and pursue the creation of family we believed God wanted us to have. The whole process felt like the antithesis of intimacy. So many people and drugs involved in a miracle that is still ultimately in God's hands. We did love each other through it, loved and supported each other in ways that don't happen in the privacy of a bedroom. And you know, it was intimacy... intimacy of the heart and not the body.

...and though it may sound like we had faith, hope, and love, neither one of us thought it would work, but we believed we were supposed to do it anyway.

Dear Girl Without Voting Rights...With No Rights-This is for you precious angel.

I sat on the couch tonight with one of my twins in my lap, flipping through the channels, trying to avoid the last of the political ads before election day tomorrow. Elizabeth Warren promises to fight for equal pay for women and Senator Brown assures us he is on the side of women for their rights to choose. I'm so sick and tired of all the ads. I stumble through more channels and land on BBC World....and now I'm ruined. The story is short but so gruesome; I can't get it out of my head.

They interview the murderers. I've never witnessed humans so callus. There is no sign of remorse, no emotion on their faces. The father, in cuffs and chains, does weep when his younger children come running to him with tears streaming down their faces. What is going through his mind as he comforts the siblings of the daughter he has just killed? A 16 year old daughter killed at the hands of her cruel father and heartless mother...in the name of honor. Yes, by now, I know that we've all heard about these "honor killings," but tonight I'm beyond disturbed. 

I'm disturbed that this is our world and while I can exercise my rights as a free, educated woman tomorrow and go to the polls and vote, my vote won't stop these crimes from happening. In my country we aren't trying to insure women have access to education, we just want them to have access to contraceptives. And the right to vote? Well, women gained that years ago. We're on to bigger and better things. We aren't concerned about women being killed by their families, we're just trying to maintain a woman's right to kill her own babies. Am I insensitive, naive, not explaining the whole story? Oh, I'm just getting started. While untold numbers of women are beaten and killed around the world every day, we sit. 

              

          And we dance around the topic. 

We ignore their suffering, their entrapment in a culture where the men dictate it all and there is no escape for the women. 

And I just want to scream. I want to scream and cry at the total injustice, at the utter lack of respect for women...no, "respect" doesn't even encapsulate it...

I can't fathom loathing life so much that you would commit something so cruel. The mother's words chill me to the core and wring in my ears over and over as I wash my organic, carefully-balanced snack for my son's preschool class tomorrow. 

You know what she said? 

The murderous mother said, "It was her destiny to die this way"...with no tremor in her voice...no tears in her eyes. 

I take a break from washing the fruit and I nurse one of my twins back to sleep, his soft warm skin, the innocence of a babe...he pulls off my breast and smiles up at me. 

                                                            And I'm crushed. 

Utterly crushed at the thought of this other mother, around the world from me, pouring acid on the head of her firstborn. Her firstborn, the one she should have shared a magical bond with, a love so deep that nothing could ever come between it...and she burned that precious skin. 

What was the girl's "crime"? She didn't run away with a boy and get pregnant out of wedlock. She didn't do drugs and no filthy language spewed from her mouth. No, her parents were too scared of these greater sins and thought best to preempt something so rebellious. So they killed her when she merely glanced at a young man as he approached their house. A glance...a look over her shoulder but in clear view of parents just waiting for her to "slip."

Her father began beating her, her mother ran to get the acid. Why in the world do these people keep acid on hand? For such a time as this.
She pleaded with her parents that it was an accident and as her father beat her, she promised that she would never do it again. The mother insured her promise by pouring the acid over her head.

There are things that compel me to write, things that haunt me until I purge my being from the thoughts and questions that won't stop.

I haven't blogged in a year...scared to offend. Scared to be vulnerable. But this girl rattles me...how can I ignore the horrible agony in which she died? I won't. Not this time. I will repeat her story and I'll feel sick all over again. She deserves our attention, not our indifference.

And she deserves it from conservatives and liberals, democrats, republicans, independents and whoever else has a voice....she deserved it all. Oh, God, help me do her some sort of justice by repeating her story. And God you know I can only hope now that the life she stepped into is a paradise so wonderful that it erases the 16 years of torture she stepped out of.

I'm not scared of offending; I'm already offended.
I'm so offended that these killings go on. This family weren't radical terrorists, living in a training camp, plotting evil schemes. They were hidden away in a small village. In fact, that's what they did to their daughter, they hid her away and refused to seek medical help for her...they let her slowly burn for hours before she died. I can't stand this.

I can't stomach it.

Yes, her parents and OUR indifference, just offended me out of my silence.



* Editor's "reflections"*
I wrote my initial post in a wave of intense emotion after hearing about this young girl's death in light of my own freedoms as a woman about to vote in the U.S. As a VERY busy mom of twins, I also wrote quickly and with little editing.  My desire, in this post, is to raise awareness of women's rights globally while being thankful and responsible with our rights as American women.  My heart breaks all over again for this girl....trapped in that family and in that culture...in all that. I mean no offense to those loving souls in any culture; I do intend to offend our hearts into action when human rights are violated in any "setting."

It Will Be Worth It All

Been thinking a lot lately about how much a woman will go through for the love of a child. I have friends who stayed sick during the entire 9 months of pregnancy and friends who were on bed rest for 9 months. Just when I want to feel sorry for myself about all the injections, ultrasounds, and blood work...just when I want to feel completely overwhelmed, I remember what this is all about. Even if I didn't want this for myself or for David; I want to give the gift of a sibling to Ethan. And for Ethan, and for the child that we will love so much someday, I'll do anything and persevere through anything. By the grace of God, I will walk through this challenging season with courage and with hope and I'll keep my heart set on what really matters. There are things in life worth making great sacrifices for and I can think of nothing greater than a child. So on my hard days, this little blog is going to be my cheerleader....reminding me that I can do this because someday, it will all be worth it. Even if we never have another child, I will know that I tried my best to bring life into this world and love the lives that are already here.

...

And time keeps moving...
I feel so overwhelmed and exhausted with working full-time and trying to keep everything running in my home. I'm on the path to getting everything organized so that I can better manage my time at home--a place for everything and everything in its place makes a world of difference when you don't have time to straighten up!

They say doing infertility treatment is a full-time job and I can see why some women have to quit their jobs to make it work.  I guess this fall will be a crazy juggling act for me. I've still decided not to talk about everything in "real" time. People have sent me private messages and asked how everything is going and I do welcome that. I just don't feel like making the whole process public. I do appreciate everyone's well wishes and prayers. It's been a long road and we still have a long road ahead of us.

At least I feel more resigned to our current situation. I can't say that I love it, but I'm at peace with my life. I know that God has only the best in mind for our family and I'm working to trust Him for our future. No matter what the circumstances, we all our faced with our trials of faith. I told David tonight that I wish I could make myself feel how I'm supposed to feel. I wish that when I needed to be content, I could just snap a finger and FEEL it and when I needed to be hopeful, I would be FILLED with hope. I do know I can pray and ask God to give me the emotional responses I need. It is also a choice and not always something I will be able to feel. So, I'm choosing to hope but I'm not feeling it right now. I'm choosing to have faith that whatever happens, it will be okay...definitely not feeling that one. And I'm trying to believe that all the details will work out even though I can't see how! I'm being stretched and I've never enjoyed stretching. I have learned that I'm better equipped for the hard stuff in life when God has done some pruning of my heart and soul.

I feel very sensitive these days....feel incredibly angry at those who dispose of babies. I read an article last week about a mother who suffocated her twin boys immediately after delivering them at home. All I could do was weep....but I wasn't just sad; I was so angry at the brokenness in this world. Some people have thanked me for so delicately handling this topic of infertility. These days, I don't feel very gracious. I walk by Planned Parenthood volunteers and just want to puke on their shoes...the thoughts that run through my head are not very nice. I don't want to be bitter but I simply have zero tolerance for killing babies....zero tolerance for parents abandoning parenting. I hope with more time, I will find a more compassionate way to deal with these issues. All my heart feels right now is the sadness of wanting another child and the disbelief that others could throw away such a miracle. Meanwhile, Ethan keeps asking for a baby...the other night he asked if we could go buy baby toys for a baby brother. :)

Returning to My Blog

When you haven't blogged in so long that you can't remember your log in information, that's not a good sign! Honestly, I have had a very challenging summer and haven't felt like writing about it. I wish I could journal through all the ups and downs but it's hard for me to write when I'm struggling.

Overall, I'm still much more at peace and settled than I've been in years. I'm very thankful for the child I have and for my dear husband and our life in Boston. After months of grueling job searching, I finally got hired in the Brookline Public School district. My job is working as a 1:1 Special Education Aide and due to very strict confidentiality laws, I will not be blogging much about my work. I'm very thankful for the job as we're finally finding ways to live on a very tight budget but make it here.

We enrolled Ethan in a Jewish preschool and he's very excited about his first day on Monday. Friday he went with David for a short session and he was asked to make the first song request....of course it would be his favorite bedtime song, "Jesus Loves Me." At least all the parents laughed and the teacher handled it brilliantly by affirming Ethan and saying, "I don't know that song but you can sing it to me later!" Ethan was satisfied with the answer and went on to request a different one. We're thankful for the opportunity to expose him more broadly to Jewish culture and traditions and even some Hebrew. And since we share the same values as our friends at this Temple, we're very thankful to be able to send him there.

Getting hired means I have to go back to the drawing board on choosing insurance companies and make a decision by this Monday. I will hopefully be going forward with treatment (IVF) this fall but I also don't feel like blogging about those details. I think I'll try to journal my experience privately to share more publicly later. I just know it's going to be very emotionally and physically draining for me and I don't need an audience anticipating pregnancy with me. I've even chosen not to share with our families. It's hard. Infertility takes some of the joy out of the anticipation of trying and the surprises that follow.

My biggest fear at this point, is coming this far and waiting this long, and then even IVF not working for us. All in all, I trust God's plan and purposes for our family. I feel loved and I feel blessed even though I haven't gotten everything I wanted in this life. I've been given far more than most people in this world, so I really can't complain. I'm just learning to accept that my heart will always ache for more children and  I will probably always have keen radar for pregnant bellies and newborns. It's hard to believe that Ethan is approaching 4 years old and we still have no idea when, if ever, he will have a sibling. This is all I can write without a stream of tears tonight.

That Is a Friend Indeed

"The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of confusion or despair, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing…not healing…not curing…that is a friend indeed.”
-Henri Nouwen

A while back I ran across another blogger and thought her tips for increasing our sensitivities to infertile friends was very helpful. Check out her full blog here.

"Tips for infertility or going through treatments:

• Ask your friend how they are doing.  They may or may not want to talk about it, but either way, they will appreciate you asking and thinking of them.  Many times people going through infertility feel forgotten.
• When you ask your friend how they are doing, don’t pry.  Nothing is worse than feeling like someone just wants “gossip” instead of truly supporting you.
• When your friend opens up to you, you just have to listen.  They don’t want an answer or a solution from you. Don’t give unsolicited advice.  They just want to get their feelings out or update you on what’s going on.
• Please do not share empty platitudes with your friend.  “Everything will be ok.”  “Third times the charm.”  “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.”  “It was God’s plan.”
• If you don’t know what to say, just listen.  If you want to say something, then something along the lines of “I can’t imagine the pain you’re going through.” or “Life is just unfair and I’m sorry this is happening to you.”  usually work best."

All the insensitive comments I've gotten over the years, have been far out-weighed by all the encouragement from wonderful, supporting friends who have walked with me through my darkest moments. Contrary to what most people might think, I've noticed that some of the sweetest words have come from women who have no trouble getting pregnant and are my age with 4 kids! I guess it's proof that no matter what your struggle is, the ability to be a good friend is more about being able to empathize than in having the exact same experience.

I have to give a shout out to my fertile Bestie here...you know who you are! She has LISTENED a million times, or more accurately, every month when my period comes-unwanted. She has hugged me and comforted me and tried her best to understand me. I don't know how I would have survived this struggle without her and she's not a fellow support group member or someone who has gone through what I'm going through. She's just a REALLY good friend. We had our boys a month apart and I remember exactly where I was standing in a cabin in Torch Lake, MI when she called to tell me she was pregnant with her second. At that point, even though I had already been trying for almost a year, I was very hopeful that I would get pregnant soon after her wonderful news. Nine months later, I held her hand (or more like her leg-hahahaha) while her beautiful daughter came into the world. And over a year later, I'm still watching her children grow via Facebook and the webcam. (tears in my eyes as I type this and think about them)

From an outsiders view, and from what I read in my infertility coping skills books...it's an unlikely source of emotional support, BUT it's been my rock and one of the biggest reasons I've held onto hope. She comes from a Jewish heritage where children are so significant and she understands my desires because she shares them too. She and I both want to bring life and light into the world and nurture it until it shines brightly. She and I freak out together about fertility treatments and then she very calmly helps me logically and rationally talk through my options and plans again, and again, and again. (A husband can grow very weary of these conversations so it's good to have a girlfriend back up!)  She reminds me of how God has been faithful and how He has provided and opened doors for me in ways I tend to overlook or dismiss. I'm sure she's sick and tired of hearing me moan and groan but she never lets on that she is. I have a feeling she will cry tears of joy when that wonderful day arrives for me...because she's ached with me all along the way.

Getting My Feelings On My Sleeve

Been doing a lot of thinking lately and been bad about blogging. My blog is supposed to be therapeutic for me, as journaling is widely recommended for women dealing with infertility. Problem is, I journal in my head! When I do gush out my feelings, I'm terrified at how they will be taken...my last blog for example. I almost didn't post it when warned that I would get a lot of hateful comments if I wrote about something as controversial as abortion. But I stuck with my gut. If this blog is for me, and this blog is about my feelings and journey with infertility, then I'm going to write about how I feel with someone petitions me for abortion funding. Period.

Here are a few randoms things from my week. I'm starting to realize that I don't exactly fall into the category of secondary infertility which usually means that the first pregnancy was conceived without treatment and "easily." Since I would have been diagnosed with primary infertility after a year of trying to conceive, but I never saw a doctor, and it took me almost two years to get pregnant...in one sense, I've always had a fertility issue. Most women in secondary infertility support groups, went off the pill and got pregnant right away. It wasn't until they tried to conceive a second child, that they ran into issues. I was never on the pill and hopeful for pregnancy every month for a long time.

But I've learned from the books I'm reading, that women who haven't yet had a child, have zero tolerance for women with secondary infertility in their support groups because they would "give their right arm to have one healthy child." Now, this really hasn't been my experience. Some of the most encouraging words have come from friends of mine who are still longing for their first child and they have found a way to sympathize with me and relate to my desire. I'm just glad that I'm joining a large community of infertility bloggers and I don't have to be a voice for any one's particular situation. I can just share my struggles and some women will relate, while others may think I'm nutso and ungrateful.  I'm okay with that. I'm okay with a lot things these days. After you live enough years, not getting what you want, you have one of two choices...be okay with it or not be! I'm choosing to live my life to the fullest right now, no matter what my circumstances...or the opinions of others. And thank God I live in a society where there is still freedom of expression!

I went to a 3 year old's birthday party yesterday and I was amused at one of the dads sharing with my husband and me how much harder it is to have more than one child, but how worthwhile it is. It was like he was trying to encourage us to go for it and not be afraid!  It's funny that in a city like Boston, most people assume we have one child by choice.  AND, most people assume we have plenty of time since I'm only 30 and they didn't decide to start their families till their late 30s, early 40s. If there is one "take home" lesson from this journey, it's never make assumptions...especially about people's family planning! I have been very guilty of this in the past, so I'm not speaking any sort of judgment here.

And speaking of judgements, I may have sounded harsh in the past about the "stupid" things people say to infertile women...BUT I sorta had a mini revelation on this matter just this summer. We were sitting in Israel around a table of food with dearly loved friends when their young daughter looked at me so sweetly and inquisitively and said, "When are you going to have another baby?" I know her mom probably wanted to sink under the table. I, however, needed that question. I needed to see that we all start out innocent in our curiosities and it's only with life experiences and the ensuing maturity, that we learn how to be sensitive with our queries.  Some of us grow up and lack awareness in certain areas, and it's left to the rest of society to gently educate us in our ignorance. At least, wouldn't it be nice if it was a gentle, gracious education? Seeing through the eyes of a child, who meant no discomfort to me, somehow helped me gain a greater perspective on grace. I decided to change my own tone when grown-ups say things that may rub me the wrong way and find a way to gently educate them with a response similar to the one I gave this precious little girl, "We would LOVE more children. Wouldn't that be wonderful?! We are ready when God decides to give us another one!"