Infertility Doesn’t Rest

In the midst of COVID, political unrest, injustice, racial tension, and the possibilities surround the return to school, I made it a point to not release any blog posts. I did not want stories about my life to clog up the feed of what is important and good. I still am looking to keep my blog posts brief and infrequent because the quest for justice and peace does not rest: God does not rest.

That being said, I do feel like I owe some of you an update. A lot has happened since my last post regarding our infertility journey and I wanted to make this as quick and to the point as possible.

One thing I know is that my sisters and brothers battling infertility have probably felt more alone during quarantine than ever. Having to stay inside without children we so desire to fill our homes is haunting… the silence is haunting. I am the queen of distracting myself from my own feelings and the access to distractions decreased dramatically (Netflix is not as distracting as you would think.) Even when I do find something to do or try out or read, my mind comes back around to childlessness.

What has seemed like an eternity of waiting has truly been about five months of not really having a plan other than hurry up and wait. But my friends, it seems there is a glimmer of hope on the horizon:

My endocrinologist released me from his care after managing my insulin resistance and bring my A1-C to a normal level. I will stay on metformin indefinitely.
The management of my A1-C in addition to a new journey of a gluten-free diet has helped me lost a little bit of weight and for my periods to become somewhat regular, helping regulate my PCOS.
My husband’s urologist is pleased with his increase in sperm count and motility and recommended IUI to our fertility specialist. He will remain on Clomid for the time being.
Our fertility specialist left the practice and we did not find out until scheduling another appointment.
Our new infertility doctor is very sweet and is moving us forward with IUI (inter-utero insemination).
I started my period on day 36 of my cycle (I said SOMEWHAT regular) this past week, launching our journey into IUI.

The next couple weeks will be a rollercoaster. I started taking Letrozole (a hormone to spark ovulation induction) yesterday and will take it until Tuesday night. Wednesday morning I go in for an ultrasound to check on my ovaries and uterine lining. If the eggs/follicles are large enough and there is an appropriate number of them ready, I will start FSH injections at home to induce ovulation, releasing the eggs from my ovaries. Then, Lord willing, I will undergo the IUI procedure, which involves insemination using a catheter bypassing my cervix and increasing chances of fertilization.

The IUI procedure and journey seems like a lot less invasive of a procedure than IVF and much cheaper, making it a very feasible option for us. I am still not clear on all of the details, as this is brand new for us. We are so very excited for these prospects and pray for a baby in the next year. We know that like all infertility patients, this may not go as planned and it seems almost foolish to have any sort of hope or optimism, but our hope is in Jesus Christ first. We know that God’s plan for us may look nothing like what we think it will look like, but we continue to pray for God to align our hearts and desires with His plan, not our own. So far, he has not taken away our desire for children, and I have hope he might be on to something.

Sunrise on the water, Nags Head, North Carolina

Bad Dreams

During this quarantine, I thought it best to not blog since infertility is just not a big deal right now. We are all facing unemployment, financial stress, emotional stress, fear, draining energy (regardless of if you’re introverted or extroverted), and so much more. I thought that my struggles would just not seem that big of a deal in comparison, and they sure are not.

This isolation has had me thinking a LOT though. I’ve been in my own head much more and away from the classroom which made me feel like I had a purposeful task to do each day. It also was a distraction from my own thoughts. Virtual learning for chorus is just not the same and is not going to look like chorus for awhile. I’m ok with that for now… not thrilled about it, but I’m ok and I am hoping that my being ok helps my students to “be ok.”

I was doing ok not verbally processing my thoughts and feelings on this platform for awhile. I am journaling every day, reading my Bible every day, staying connected with friends via Zoom (which is a whole topic on its own), talking to my husband more often about how I am feeling and how sometimes there is no reason why, and I’ve continued counseling via Skype. I felt like I was doing “ok.”

But then I had a dream last night; a borderline nightmare. (Readers proceed with caution, it gets dark and gruesome fast). I think last night was the worst dream I could have. I had a dream that I finally tested positive for pregnancy, and I had a little bump. In the dream, I could feel how overwhelmingly excited I was, I started crying. I couldn’t have been more than four months pregnant when I start cramping severely, so I go to the hospital with my grandparents and mom, my dad and stepmom followed behind. They’re trying to find a room for me at the hospital but I have to pee so I go to the restroom to find I’ve started miscarrying. At first I thought it was light spotting but then I start bleeding everywhere and I can’t stop it. I call for help and a nurse casually says, it’s gonna be fine, the twins will be alright (first time I find out I’m pregnant with twins). My mom and stepmom help me get cleaned up and to the hospital bed but by the time the doctor comes in, it’s too late. I delivered two tiny, dead babies on a table. In my dream, I could feel the physical pain of cramping and contracting, and the emotional pain that seemed nothing short of destructive. I woke up around 3:00am and just felt destroyed and shattered.

I do not think that all dreams mean something, more often that not it is probably my subconscious feeding on my fears. I have had some nausea and symptoms of pregnancy during quarantine I generally have very vivid dreams and remember them easily. One of my sisters and I shared a room all our lives until I went to college and we used to share our dreams with each other as soon as we woke up and I think that’s why I got so good at remembering my dreams. I had a lot of reoccurring dreams as a kid that I remember like true memories. This is a moment though where I wish I could forget it. It has been haunting me all day and I’m fearful that one day it could be true because it has been true for so many women. So many mothers have felt the joy of finding out they are pregnant only to have that joy ripped away from them, a feeling I literally can only imagine in my dreams.

Two things have been tearing up my heart on social media right now: 10 All of the pregnancy announcements (Spring is in the air, yall) and 2) parents complaining about being stuck in their house with their kids all the time. Don’t get me wrong, I cannot even imagine how crazy some of you parents are right now and how this isolation is destroying you. I am NOT judging yall. I know this is all new uncharted territory and dare I say, “uncertain times.” I am longing to be a part of it. When you joke that you want someone to borrow your kids for a little bit and I say I’ll do it, I am not joking. When you say you need someone else to teach your kid what their teacher sent them packets for and I say I will help, I am sincere. I want so badly to be rudely interrupted during a Zoom meeting or for some messy disaster to take place while I try to have five minutes of peace. I want a kid bored out of their mind asking me to play every few minutes. I have definitely been blessed to have all this time with my husband and my dog, but I cannot help but think about how much of a blessing it would be to have a small baby right now, enjoying all of this time with little ones.

In my counseling sessions, we have been talking about lament and how it’s different than complaining. I found that I was feeling guilty about asking God to give me children because I was worried I was complaining too much, asking for something that I could learn to be ok not having (it would be devastating, but I can be resilient). Then we started to dive into lament and how it’s a form of worship. I can bring my requests to God in a way that is worshipful. I wrote a few laments to try and process, and I’m going to end with one:

Oh loving and comforting Father, you hold me in your hand like a small creature.
Yet you do not fill my womb, you leave my prayers unanswered.
Please, Lord, knit life together inside my body, bring a small person into this world using me. End my sadness and suffering and let me worship you through motherhood.
For you are worthy of praise and children are your miracle. Thank you for your protection and for bringing me peace.
Lament #3

more waiting…

The longer we have to wait, the harder it gets. It’s also getting more difficult to process what I am feeling, hence the lack of frequent posts. I’m angry a lot, sad even more often. It’s been over two years since we’ve starting trying to get pregnant and thirteen months since we started seeking treatment.

I had my follow-up appointment with the endocrinologist and I am back to having a normal A1C, meaning I am not pre-diabetic anymore. Because my body reacted so well to the Metformin, I am being kept on it to hopefully keep some of the PCOS symptoms at bay. The better my body processes insulin, the more likely my body will make the other hormones at normal levels. The better my body does at making the correct amount of the correct hormones, the more likely it is that I will ovulate semi-regularly. I go back for a follow-up appointment and blood work in three months.

My husband finally has his urologist appointment last week. There is no obvious physical or hormonal reason for his low sperm count and motility. He is being put on Clomid (which is the hormone that turned me into a cranky, raging…lady) to hopefully increase his numbers. The good news is, men do not have the same side effects as women on Clomid. He will most likely have no negative side effects, unlike me, who got hot flashes, gained weight, and had intense mood swings. He will return for another analysis in three months and a follow-up appointment after that.

So, based on both of our appointments, the major prescription is patience. The side effects are irritability, roller-coaster emotions, doubt, depression, over-thinking, and the decrease in optimism (at least for me). To be transparent, I have not been doing well recently. I find myself on the brink of tears often, whether at school or home watching TV, more and more things remind me of our childlessness.

A friend recently asked me what stage of the grieving process I thought I was in. I told her that I only realized last week that I had to grieve and I’m still determining what that looks like and what exactly I am grieving. I’ve been going to counseling again recently and my counselor said about the same thing, that I need to allow myself to grieve and to be okay with doing it. I kept trying to power through the sadness and just be sad, waiting for it to be over, but it’s not going away. Something must be done.

I am still formulating my answer to what stage I am in, and I am still unsure what this process will look like, but knowing that there will be a process is giving me a little more hope and a reason to process. I know I can label it grief, and that has been helping.

It’s Been Awhile…

The past month or so has been very difficult for me, so of course I bottled up my feelings and stopped writing so I didn’t have to deal with it. Lately though, it’s been bubbling over and apparently I should probably deal with it.

I feel like I have been surrounded by good news with none to deliver for myself. Don’t get me wrong, I love Love and I love babies, so seeing other people announce with great pride and joy that they are pregnant, I rejoice with them. It hurts my heart, but due to my lack, not their gain. I never want anyone to think that their joy should be hidden from me or that it hurts me. I just happen to see all of the announcements and my lack of pregnancy is what stings. My heart has been heavy lately, and it seems to be getting worse.

I thought it would get easier once I had a rough month and then moved on, but it seems like I am falling deeper and deeper into a sadness and I feel more and more physically empty. I feel a space inside my abdomen that is void of life and where I long a life to be. I am a little bit sad all of the time. I am having a more difficult time pushing thoughts to the back of my mind, I am constantly thinking about wanting to be a mom. My students are constant reminders of children, even when they’re being doofuses. I long to have doofuses of my own to be confused by.

I am blessed immensely, despite my sadness. My marriage gets stronger and so does my faith and trust in the Lord, I know that others going through what I am going through cannot say the same. I can’t explain it, but it can only be God’s infinite grace and goodness that has kept my faith strong. I am grateful for my Savior and have not felt anger toward Him. I am grateful for my husband, for
his prayers and honesty, for his love and comfort. It’s been an excellent season for my faith and my marriage, despite everything else.

But the everything else is still overwhelming. We are coming up on the two year mark of when we starting “trying” to get pregnant. Two years of getting my hopes up just to be crushed. Two years of waiting every day for a period to start. Two years of off and on I could go back and count how many periods I have had naturally, but to spare all my insanity, I am going to guess about 7 times. I have probably had a NATURAL period about seven times in the past 24 months.

One of the positive things that has happened is that I had a period naturally this month! It was a little traumatic starting at school without a warning (I felt like a middle-school girl), and it lasted for 12 days, BUT it means that my body did something right. I may not have ovulated, but generally
a normal period means that I ovulated at some point, and that glimmer of hope brings me joy.

I went to the endocrinologist early January to look at elevated DHEA-S (a type of male hormone) and elevated A1C. I was labeled as pre-diabetic and put on metformin, a diabetes drug. I have to take my blood sugar every morning (so far I’ve been “in range” every morning). I’ll have a blood test in three weeks to check my A1C level and then a follow up appointment the week after that. I have been slightly overwhelmed with the diabetic information. The doctor prescribed a glucose monitor without telling me how to use it and when, I don’t know what a normal range is, and I can’t seem to find the right depth of needle to get the right amount of blood for the reader. It’s a lot for me to learn and I have a whole new level of respect for diabetics. I welcome any advice or help.

The elevated hormone levels are all due to the PCOS. I am hopeful that the metformin will regulate my insulin levels which supposedly will cause a reaction that will regulate the DHEA-S. The elevated male hormone is why I gain weight around my gut first. There’s a possibility that the metformin will cause a chain-reaction of me losing weight and ovulating regularly, increasing my chances of pregnancy. There is a wide world of literature on the relationship between metformin and PCOS, which is overwhelming, but promising.

My husband has an appointment to see the urologist at the end of February. It used to be scheduled for the end of January (an appointment we made a couple months previous), but we received a letter in the mail when we returned from our Christmas trip saying the doctor would be out of the office when our first appointment was scheduled for and that we had been rescheduled for nearly a month later. We were pretty upset by the news and the manner in which it was delivered, but we are on a cancellation list and calling to check in on the status.

The medical bills and phone calls with insurance have been a lot to deal with, but we have been blessed by family and friends, both financially and emotionally. Luckily, the people on the phone and online messaging have also been pleasant, making it a lot easier (especially for someone who gets an elevated heart rate ordering a pizza on the phone).

We are blessed, and I am still sad. The two feelings can coexist, and we pray that one day we have a child. It won’t be the cure for sadness, I know that, but it would be the cure for that particular sadness.

Thank you to anyone who reads these, especially those who are going through or have gone through the same thing we are. It is encouraging to be reminded that I am not alone.

A picture I took of my sister’s backyard one morning.

I Thought It Would Get Easier

When we started to realize that getting pregnant was going to be a lot more difficult than we initially thought, I thought that as time passed, it would get easier. But here we are, approaching two years since we started trying to get pregnant and I feel my heart being crushed more and more with each passing day; it’s getting harder.

At the beginning of November, we had our first appointment at the Jones Institute to discuss what our next steps would be. After a ridiculously expensive set of more blood tests for both of us, we were called and sent off to more specialists. My husband was told to make an appointment with a urologist and for me to make an appointment with an endocrinologist. After many phone calls and nagging for information, we finally both have appointments set, me at the beginning of January and him at the end. More waiting around. Every time we go to an appointment, it feels like we take one step forward and two steps back. My heart gets crushed, starts to heal again, being filled with hope, only to be crushed even harder.

I’ve had this phrase stuck in my head: I was knit together in my mother’s womb. The more I meditate on that and how glorious it is, I have found that I desire that. I want so badly for God to work within my physical body, to put a life together in my womb. I was created to bring life and I love that about me, I identify with my biological ability to procreate. When I was younger, I was told by so many in my life that one day I would make a great mother. Friends of my parents seeing how I was with my baby siblings would say how I was a mini-mom. People in a high-school bible study affirmed my abilities to care and my desire to be a mom. My friends in high school and college joked and called me mom all the time because of how I cared for others in their sickness and distress. If I was going to make such a great mom, why won’t my body work the way it is supposed to in order to make that happen?

Recently, my head and my heart have been arguing. I have a very logical side and a very emotional side that are never in balance, constantly at war with each other for ownership of my thoughts and actions. I know that I am promised nothing, deserving of nothing. Yet by God’s grace I am given much. I have a loving and godly husband, a house, a job, clothes, shoes, a big and loving family, and even a sweet dog who I can care for and baby. God does not promise children to us, but many are blessed with the precious gift of children. The emotional side of me keeps thinking that I probably will just have to wait longer, that’s my journey. God must be teaching me patience by making me wait and go to all of these different doctors. But what if that is not my journey? What if God will not give us children? What if that is completely God’s plan for my husband and I? That can’t be… it hurts too much.

The truth is, I may never have children. I pray for discernment, that my husband and I would know whether all of this waiting and doctor appointments are to build our trust in the Lord or if they are big stop signs from God saying, “Stop! This is not what I have for you.” It is not clear and it may never be.

I find myself looking out over my students in the classroom, me sitting behind the piano and directing, them staring back at me with their big, beautiful eyes. I look at them and I hold back tears. Some of them are parts of loving families that had no problem having children, others with terrible home lives and parents that don’t care. I want to care for a child, to take care of another life. I desire to have my life and sleep interrupted by tiny footsteps and demands for food. It’s getting harder to just wait.

The Text: An Update

We had our appointment.

I think it went really well, and I’m having difficulty processing everything that happened, but I feel good.

For my sanity and to let my brain rest, I am going to tell everyone who reads this by copying and pasting the text I sent my family and a few friends. I promise I care about these posts, but I also know some of you want to know so here it is!

We met with our new doctor and she is very kind and thorough! She is not wanting to jump to IVF yet, she said she wants to make sure she has tried everything else before going down that road. She was glad we had done so much already! She took a lot of blood from both Josh and I and is going to do hormone testing. The PCOS diagnosis stands, but she is calling it Irregular Menses for now while she gets more hormone testing done. Knowing that I was able to ovulate once with hormone therapy, she wants to try upping the dosage of Clomid and do injections. We are not going to do that yet until Josh’s hormone testing comes back. He is also being referred to a urologist to get an answer about whether his lack of good concentration and motility of sperm is due to a hormonal problem or a physical obstruction. At this point, we are kind of waiting until his appointment and the outcome of that. If the urologist says we are good to go with a little bit of hormone therapy for Josh, we will just focus on giving us both hormones. If there is something physical they can do for Josh (like if there’s a cyst or vein problem) they will handle that and see if it can help us and then just do hormones for me. If they can only do a little bit for Josh, we will try IUI (which is In-Utero Insemination, or as I casually and grossly call it, the turkey baster) after giving me hormones to start ovulation. If they can’t get me to ovulate, we will look at IVF. She answered almost all of my questions and worries about creating embryos and how I don’t want to discard any successful embryos and she said the process will probably allow for me to have 2-3 successful embryos after extracting 8-12 eggs. My AMH level is low for my age still which shows that I do not have a lot of eggs left, so she is very glad that we are addressing this now as opposed to a few years from now when I would have far less eggs. Overall, it was a good appointment, but now we will be waiting some more as we wait for an appointment to be scheduled for Josh at the urologist. Pray for a cancellation so they can get him in sooner! I am a little overwhelmed with all of the information, but I feel good about it!
My text to family

Again, I am excited about the possibilities! I also am happy to talk to anyone about this in person or over text. I love answering questions!

Thank you all for your concern and love. I will keep blogging as more things happen!

Waiting…waiting…waiting…

It has been 60 days since my last doctors visit regarding fertility and 45 days since my last period. 45 days since I found out I wasn’t pregnant after my first positive ovulation test since I starting taking OPTs (ovulation predictor tests). Over two months ago I scheduled my first appointment with the Jones Institute in Newport News, and it is finally almost here. Our first appointment is this Friday, and time is moving slower than it ever has before.

When I was in middle school, my seventh grade English teacher always said, “It’s all relative. Everything is relative, especially time.” I knew what it meant, but only in the past two months have I really felt the weight of those words. The past two months have felt like a year. I ask my husband almost every day if we can start the adoption process because I am sick of waiting around and doing nothing. It feels like every day is a day I’m wasting not trying to get pregnant.

Every story, book, and blog post I have read about other women struggling with infertility have all said that the worst part about all of it is the waiting and the weeks in between. Are they sanctifying weeks? Sure, but they still suck.

As Friday approaches, I jump quickly back and forth between different feelings. There is a lot of excitement between my husband and I about taking the next steps. Every person I have talked to about the Jones Institute has said amazing things or said that they heard from someone else how they got pregnant going there. I am excited to get my questions asked and hopefully answered. At the same time, I’m so worried about what answers I am going to get, that I would almost rather not ask at all. Do not even get me started on the fears I have about the financial part of this journey. Is it wise to go into debt? Are my options going to fit into our morals?

Those of you who I see often know how busy I am in and outside of work. I have added responsibilities at work, I have a student teacher right now, my only free night during the week is Tuesday (and even then I always have a meeting after school), and the rest of the nights I have something to do. They are all wonderful things, and I love all of it. I am just trying to paint a picture of how busy I am.

Usually, when we are busy, time goes a little faster, jumping from one thing to the next. But even in this incredibly busy time, when I always have something to do, some task to achieve or an ever-lengthening to-do list, I can not help but feel that time is dragging on. I want Friday to be now. I want pregnancy to be tomorrow. I want to be a mother yesterday.

If you’ve read my posts before, you know that I know the “correct” answers and I know what is true. You know that I’m just venting and processing my feelings. So please, pray for me and my husband, and if anyone has the power to speed my relative time, please do so.

Overwhelmed, but OK

So far, this school year has been very busy. I bit off more than I can chew, so I spit some out and am focusing on what I have left and what is important. October has been the first month that I have not been on hormones and I think my body freaked out going through a type of withdrawal, which led to an emotional rollercoaster and feeling physically awful.

In September, I went for my last cycle of hormones at the doctor I was seeing previously and for the first time ever, it looked like I was going to ovulate. In my last post, I explained a little more in detail what this looked like and, as I explained in my last post, I was incredibly hopeful and excited.

One of the worst things that I’ve been told over and over the past month or so is “at least you know you CAN ovulate.” That’s great, and it’s true, but all I feel is that I’ve lost something that could have been… someONE that could have been. Is that irrational? Probably. But boy does my heart hurt. I feel like my heart is slowly getting fainter and fainter. BUT, If you have said this to me recently, know that I am not mad at you or upset, and I probably forgot that you specifically said it to me. I appreciate and honor your joy and optimism! Please know that I love and appreciate you.

I read this in a book recently, and it sums up how I feel about being sad. The author can say it much better than I can:

“Grief is not the opposite of faith. Mourning is not the opposite of hope. I believe that well-meaning Christians can try to hurry us out of our mourning because we make them uncomfortable. The Bible does not say to cheer up the bereaved, but rather to ‘mourn with those who mourn.’ Christ does not say we grieve because we are deficient in faith, but rather, ‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted [not rushed]’ (Matthew 5:4).”
Jennifer Saake, Hannah’s Hope

I know in my head what is rational and I knew that our chances were low, but I still let my heart get excited and not one person can say anything to heal the hurt I have inside. I’m overwhelmingly blessed by my husband that has continued to check on me and just let me be there with him. He is always there for me, and he always points me back to the Lord for comfort.

Even though I’ve been at an emotional low recently, I have been in a spiritual high. I’ve felt nothing but joy and excitement for others having babies and getting pregnant. There has not been one ounce of bitterness. A close friend of mine had her baby a couple weeks ago and the moment I saw that sweet baby, all I could think of was how much of a miracle babies are. So many things have to go right to get pregnant in the first place and then so many things have to go right for nine months straight for there to be a baby at the end. I saw that baby and just got so excited for her parents and that she was here in the world with us. I love that baby so so much.

I’ve had many friends announce their pregnancies this month and several of them are people who have been experiencing trouble getting pregnant themselves, so I’ve been rejoicing with them. Their joy does not add to my sadness. I’ve said it before, and I meant it then, but this time I truly feel joy for them and in my own heart as well. Pregnancy is so cool; I really, REALLY want it for myself.

I have an appointment scheduled in November to go to the Jones Institute. They will probably do another work up including blood tests and exams, exams on my husband, and talk to us about the next steps. I have been told by my previous doctor that they will probably recommend IVF or IUI. There are a lot of things I have to learn and many questions I have to be answered, but I’m hoping this new chapter of this journey will bring more answers and maybe some more hope.

I’m in a Glass Case of Emotion

It has been a whirlwind in the Hazel household over the past few weeks. I took a small hiatus from this blog while school was getting started. Fellow teachers, you know that overwhelming feeling of non-stop joy and simultaneous fear? I felt it HARD this year and I have had a difficult time getting into the rhythm of school. I still feel an intense exhaustion as I write this. It will definitely get better, but right now it feels like I’ll never know the taste of sweet, sound sleep again.

Part of my blogging hiatus was due to a streak of deep sadness. After not having a period naturally (again), I was prescribed progesterone (again) to bring one on to start another cycle. I was told that this round would most likely involve daily injections of FSH hormone and frequent ultrasounds to make sure things were progressing correctly. Once it began, I dutifully called my doctor to let them know it began and inquired about the next step. The nurse answered and said that I had two options.

1.) I would start the FSH injections like we had talked about or
2.) It would be recommended that I go somewhere else for a second opinion and different, more specialized treatment.

I told them that my husband and I had mentally and financially prepared for the injections so we wanted to go that route. After a ridiculous few days of trying to get a hold of my doctor and not getting called back, I finally got a call saying that my doctor was going to recommend that I go somewhere else. I got two recommendations and a swift “good luck” and then a goodbye.

I was devastated. I felt like the medical professionals that had been giving me hope were giving up on me and passing me along without hesitation. The people being paid to help me decided they did not want to anymore. It wasn’t until my husband got me amped up until I called them back and requested that something be done this month. Why would they start my cycle and then decide to do nothing??

I called the Jones Institute and got the next available appointment, which isn’t until November. In the mean time, the doctor I had been seeing agreed to prescribe me Letrozole one more time and then have me in for an ultrasound before the normal ovulation time.

Before I get to the outcome of this appointment, it’s worth mentioning that during the waiting for my cycle to start, my husband finally decided to get himself tested. We had struggled with whether or not to have him tested to begin with and assumed that since I clearly and undoubtedly had so many issues, we would focus on making sure that I got figured out. He was tested about two and a half weeks ago.

Back to the ultrasound appointment:
It was the Friday of the impending hurricane Dorian and both my and my husband’s school counties cancelled school that day. We spent some time together and even went out on a date for lunch. I was called by the office and was asked if I was able to come in earlier since the doctor was suddenly scheduled for a C-section, so of course I said I would come in earlier. I get there and I’m brought back quickly and get undressed from the waist down for the ultrasound. It’s not until I’m sitting there for a little bit that I’m told that the doctor was called in for a different emergency delivery. I waited in the room and the doctor finally came in and started with some different information… my husband’s test results came back less than stellar. He has a low sperm count and concentration and low normal morphology, among other issues. So even if I did ovulate, the chances for getting pregnant were even lower than we anticipated. The doctor reviewed some options (I’ll likely need IVF to get pregnant) and then did the ultrasound.

I laid back and the lights went out and for the first time since starting this journey, we saw a large follicle ready to go on my left ovary. The doctor immediately sent me out to pick up a prescription for hCG hormone (Pregnyl) to bring back and get shot in the butt (yay) to induce ovulation. I was also prescribed four days of sex (insert coy emoji here).

The next day, it finally happened. I saw a positive ovulation test. It was such a weird feeling to see the two lines actually have the same darkness. The positive test was followed the next morning by some cramping I haven’t experienced in a long time. I was joyfully in incredible pain. The next day I had another positive test and then the following days showed the natural decline of the hormone which is indicative of ovulation. My body is FINALLY doing something it is supposed to!

The positive tests were over this past weekend and I am still coming down from an emotional rollercoaster. I fell into such a pit of despair when my doctor told me to go somewhere else and then I couldn’t get an appointment somewhere else for another two months. That is two opportunities for potential pregnancy. Then this past weekend, I could not stop thanking God for allowing my body to do its supposed natural function. I finally felt like I succeeded physically as a woman.

I know very well that I may not get pregnant this time around. I am not getting my hopes up. That may seem overly pessimistic, but I know my heart and I am more than content to rejoice and be grateful that my body did the thing: I ovulated. God allowed for my crazy, dramatic ovaries to release an egg.

I am currently in an evened-out mood and feeling fine. I am tired yet joyful from work and I am tired yet joyful from this journey. We will always welcome prayers for pregnancy, especially since my husband’s results were not good. We need prayers for comfort and for discernment as we think about and navigate the possibility of IVF and what that means. Pray for us, but also rejoice with us.

Back to School

The past few weeks have been insanely difficult. Something about the time alone during the summer has me thinking way too much and being very lonely until my husband gets home. I struggle to find peace and positivity around not having children… It has been really hard. A friend recently shared an article with me (that you should check out) that says almost exactly what I have been feeling and thinking, except the author came out on the other side with children, with her “happy ending.” The writing points out that this season of my life is not to reward me for my so-called patience with children on the other end of this, but rather to mold me more into the image of Jesus. I am not guaranteed children; I am not even guaranteed one more breath.

That does not make me feel better, if I were to be completely honest. Does it make me lean on and depend on God more than ever, and therefore sanctifying me more? Yes. Do I feel like dancing around and jumping for joy? Not always. My sin nature has been taking over my thoughts for sure, but it has also been an exercise to fill my mind with God.

As awful as I have felt over these weeks, I want to put in more effort to put a positive spin on it. I am not going to try to guess what my future (be it with or without my own children) holds, but what I do know is that in a couple weeks, my life is going to be flooded with children for the fifth year in a row. Once school starts, I am going to have more babies to take care of than I often know what to do with. I am grateful to work in a school where the focus is on the children’s well-being first, and one of the topics we discuss often when it comes time for school to start is that our “discipline problem” children are the ones that need school to start the most. Some of our students have had terrible summers and need the structure and love that they will find in our building. Some students had a great summer and are extremely excited to come back and be with their friends and teachers. There are even some students that are eager to learn and cannot wait what projects and topics are in store. We have students that are nervous and anxious about returning, and they need nurturing and care so that they can get the best intellectual, social, emotional, and interpersonal education possible.

I know myself, and I know that I am going to use having these children to take care of as a distraction from my own sadness, and that is not exactly healthy. At the same time, I am getting ready to start another month of hormones at a higher dosage paired with direct injections of another hormone, so yall know that I am going to be a hot mess some days. I need to be aware of what is going on and make sure that I inform myself so that my students do not suffer for my insanity.

Once I get to know my classes, I am pretty open with my students; I like to let them know that I am a human being too. I obviously do not tell them everything, but I enjoy answering their questions. They know I’m married, they know my husband’s name, my dog’s name, that I live in Newport News (which is actually helpful because it reminds them I live far away from them, where they can’t find me). They know a lot about me, but I have been keeping my desire for children out of their sphere of information. Naturally, out of the curious minds of children, I get the questions often:
“Do you have any kids?
Do you want kids?
When will you have kids?”
I often answer these students truthfully, that I have no kids, I would love kids, and that for now, my focus is on teaching them.

I am not a perfect teacher and I never will be. I have a lot more on my plate this year than I initially realized, both in and out of school, and I am going to do all of the jobs to the best of my ability. I am going to try my best not to distract myself on purpose, but also not to let the days pass me by too quickly. I do not want to forget all that I have been going through to try and get pregnant, but I also need to remember that it still may not happen for me, because I am not owed anything. My students deserve my love and attention and my best teaching, and not because they earned it, but because they are worth it, no matter how much they act like doofuses.