Quick Question(s)

I have had a lot of thoughts on my mind recently. As the name of this blog suggests, I am going to verbally process (through typing). I know a lot of what I am about to say is dumb and many of you will have thoughts and things to say, but know that I am not seeking advice or pity. I just need to get this out:

I have struggled a lot with what is in line with God’s plan and our having children. I end up asking myself many questions, many of which conflict with each other:

What if it’s God’s plan for us not to have kids?
How will we know whether it is or not?
Are we not trusting in God enough if we go to see the doctor?
Aren’t doctors God’s will?
At what point will we know if we’re just being stubborn?
Is it wise to spend money on medical bills for something that may never happen?
How do I know if I am not trusting the Lord?
What the heck is wrong with me?

My husband has been very helpful in allowing me to ask these questions out loud so that they don’t seem so ridiculous and we can talk through and pray about them. But one thing lingers. The greatest internal struggle that I am harboring the most is this: What is the balance between trusting in the natural human body and God’s sovereignty versus utilizing modern medicine, which was created by God? How I wish there was a meter that could show me what my heart is truly placing trust in.

Soon, it will be time to go back to school. Assuming I do not get pregnant this month, the next steps involve a higher dose of ovulation hormones paired with direct injections of another hormone.

My. Poor. Students.

Knowing what the lower dosage of just one hormone did to my mood and emotions, I can only imagine what the next steps will be like. If you are a coworker of mine, I apologize in advance (although many of you that know me well enough know that I do not have any trouble saying “I’m sorry”). Know that I will continue to do my best at work and put my students first always, but also know that if you hear the kids saying things about me going crazy, there is at least a reason this time.

I am So Glad You Were Born!

I am a big fan of birthdays. I love to celebrate my friends and family, I love to celebrate my own birthday, I even love making a big deal out of my dog’s birthday (which we just picked a day and guessed an age since her paperwork had two different birthdays on them). It’s almost always fun to celebrate and in my opinion, it’s really cool to celebrate and honor someone where we can gather together and say, “I am so glad you were born and that you are here.”

My husband threw me a birthday party this past weekend that was perfect. It was small, low-key, and he made hot wings: everything a girl could want. He put aside his dislike of socializing to make sure that I had a great time socializing. I am so grateful for him.

On another note and a fertility update, I went to the doctor this past week for an ultrasound to check out my ovaries again to see if the Letrozole did its job in stimulating ovulation. My appointment was a few days past the normal peak ovulation time, but according the the ultrasound, I still hadn’t ovulated but did still have two large follicles looking like I could still ovulate this cycle. I’ll keep taking ovulation prediction tests for the next week or so to look out for late ovulation. My doctor said it is not likely, but it is possible. If you read my last post, you read that I had a period on my own without the help of a Progesterone boost. I had been really hopeful thinking that maybe I finally ovulated. It’s possible, though, that I did not ovulate and that it was something of a “fake out.” Regardless, I am trying to be optimistic about the possibility of me ovulating this month.

I turned 27 this weekend, which I know is still pretty young. I’m the second youngest teacher in my building and most of the people I know with kids are older than me. Still, I had a few moments of sadness this past week thinking about how when I was in my late teens, my “plan” (I know, plans are silly) was to have all my kids before I turned 30. I’m not sure why that was my goal, but it was. I know I am going to get a flood of responses from friends and family saying they didn’t have their first until their late 30s and that I am still young. I hear it a lot and I know that it is true, but it doesn’t dampen my desire to have a little one in my arms now. I remembered my “plan” this week and started to become really discouraged, thinking about how so many people I know have tried for kids for 5 or 8 or 10 years before they had their little ones. I am getting close to missing my “target.” (Please read with a hint of humor)

Many of you have responded to me pretty frequently about how long you or your friends were trying before they had their little ones or just decided to give up. My heart hurts for those people because I know it was not easy and it involved a lot of ups and downs, so much heartbreak and stress, emotionally and financially. I know it’s hard, and it’s been a much shorter journey for us so far, but it still hurts, and it has felt like we have been trying for an eternity some days.

Logically, I know a lot of things:

1. I am still very young
2. There is still hope
3. We have not been trying that long
4. At least I am seeing a doctor and am on a plan
5. I am loved and have a wonderful husband, family, dog, job, home, etc.
6. God’s plan is the most important and it’s possible that me having kids is not in the plan, and that is okay
7. My identity is not in my ability to have kids
8. I am loved

I could recite these truths to myself all day long and still feel like crap some days. That is a part of being human. Other days though, I know these things and believe them strongly. Taking different hormones does not help my emotional state either. I know what is good and what is true. While I sit here and write this, I am pretty bummed out. Yesterday, I was feeling great and confident that my life is wonderful the way it is. It could go either way on any given day.

If you are in the same boat as me and you are trying to have a baby, know that you are heavy on my heart today and I am saying a special and specific prayer for you today, and I hope you feel better tomorrow. If you don’t, I understand.

Also for the Dudes

It is summer. It is HOT. It is a great time to go to the beach or to read a book in the air conditioning. As much as I love summer time and the break from teaching, the heat can make me a little irritable. I am terrible at caring myself as a human being and do not drink enough water as it is, so when I end up in the sweltering heat, I get headaches from mild dehydration and they NEVER GO AWAY so I get grumpy. However, it is still one of the most valuable times I have, especially in this season of our lives where my husband’s job changes hours and I get to see him all day long on Fridays. We get to travel a little bit and have the beautiful opportunities to see our families. It’s down time that I treasure and will not take for granted.

One of the most helpful parts about the infertility journey we have been on has been my husband. He lets me cry, yell, and makes me laugh by running around wrestling with the dog. This month has given us a sliver of hope. I started my period ON MY OWN (without Progesterone pills) and it was terrible and painful and exciting and exhausting. I curled up on the couch for an entire day because my body was figuratively giving me the middle finger. This means, however, that I ovulated at some point. It was way past even the extended window, so I did not know. My doctor even told me to stop taking ovulation prediction tests past a certain point to avoid emotional turmoil and disappointment. It also means that we missed conceiving, which is extremely disheartening. It will not break us though.

In writing this, I realized that I have been talking a lot about “girl stuff” that could very well make a lot of men (and women) uncomfortable. I want to say publicly that I understand, but I am only a little bit sorry, particularly to the men. My husband had one brother so he was not completely submerged with the constant conversations about periods and tampons and shaving and boobs hurting that was the estrogen-ridden fort that was my upbringing. He has had a lot of questions and has learned a lot about the female body ever since we got married and do you know what makes him the absolute best? He has NEVER made me feel gross or kept me at a distance. He has humbled himself to a level where he has been willing to learn and to ask questions with a lot of patience.

It is my hope that everyone is willing to learn about the disaster that is the female reproductive system. You do not have to be a woman trying to get pregnant to read about this. In fact, I hope it helps you sympathize with some of your friends and family. You could be a father, a brother, a sister, an uncle, an aunt, grandparent, friend, or coworker; I hope you find one thing to learn about. It is ok to ask questions. Clearly, there is a time and place to have these conversations, but to really help your friends, ask the hard questions and ask how they are doing. There is still a weird air around talking about uteruses and fallopian tubes and how the whole thing works. I believe it would be easier to have those conversations if we all learned a little bit more.

I have a strong faith in the Lord and that this season in our life is for our sanctification, but I have had moments where I am angry and I start to question what God’s hand is in all of this. I get mad, sad, and disappointed all of the time and I want to scream at the sky and throw things. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, it is ok to have emotions. I am blessed to be surrounded by a community of family and friends that will take the time to be mad and sad with me when I need it. I am also blessed by those same people knowing me well enough to say, “You’re being dumb. Shut up.” Then I look around and think about all of the good in my life and I tell myself “you’re being a little dumb, shut up.” Then I apologize to the sky for yelling at it.

I’ve been dabbling in photography so I’m going to start uploading random pictures I take

Fwd: Great Advice

This week has been pretty awesome mentally. I have spent a lot of time praying and reading my bible, going for walks outside, tending to the garden, hanging out with my husband, seeing some of my family, and getting a lot of projects done around the house. I’ve felt myself starting to slip into over-thinking life, and this week I’ve been able to flip those thoughts into positive ones. Physically, I have been a MESS with weird things being sore and hurting and not being able to get up in the mornings, but it’s easier than having my brain fall into mush.

For those following my journey, this week has been uneventful in the infertility realm. I never tested positive for ovulation which was to be expected since the follicles in my ovary did not mature enough. I will wait about another week before calling my doctor and getting prescribed Progesterone again to bring on another period and then Letrozole again, accompanied with a few ultrasounds. Yay.

For this week’s post, I wanted to share a few pieces of advice that I have gotten following my first blog. When I first posted it, I got a lot of encouragement and kind words. If you know me, you know that I do not do well to receive “niceness.” I quickly responded to many of you and I just want you all to know: I do appreciate it and I love you for reaching out to me. I may not be good at responding to emotional words in the moment, but be assured, I cherish your words. After a few days, I started to get some advice from women who are going through or have gone through what I am currently. These words were more practical and I wanted to share them with you:

IT IS OK TO BE MAD

One of the first face-to-face conversations I had after my first post was with a coworker who has experienced difficulties far beyond mine in terms of pregnancy. She pulled me aside and we had an awesome conversation about how it just sucks and sometimes there is nothing anyone can do to console you. Letting the emotions out is healthy. Anger, sadness, confusion… they are all valid emotions and if you didn’t feel them, it would be considered weird. This advice has helped me combat the never-helpful words of “just don’t think about it.” Feeling and processing different emotions helps you to grow as a human in empathy and sympathy. Allow the feelings to shape you into a stronger (yet softer) woman.

DO NOT BE AFRAID TO ASK YOUR DOCTOR QUESTIONS

Two of my friends messaged me about their struggles with pregnancy and discovering a lot of physical issues that manifested in the worst ways while carrying their babies. They had no clue that they had the conditions until after they were pregnant, making the entire nine months a season of uncertainty and fear for their health and the lives of their babies. Both ladies said that a few blood tests could reveal so much about themselves so that they could face pregnancy prepared. The journey these ladies faced would make you weep. They both have wonderful, beautiful, adventurous babies and they wouldn’t trade them for the world.

All of this being said, your doctor is there for a reason. It is ok to ask questions. In fact, not only is it ok, but it’s the doctors job to help you! This crazy, over-apologetic lady always ends up feeling bad for requesting someone to do their job. Learn about your genetics, learn about your parents’ health, get blood tests, request information. No question is too dumb if it’s going to help you get pregnant. I wish that I had asked more questions sooner. Initially I was told to try to get pregnant naturally for a year with no medication before seeking treatment. Part of me is glad I allowed my body to reset, but there is still a small part that wishes I sought help sooner.

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO APOLOGIZE

Many of the stories I heard from others following my journey immediately told me that I needed to stop saying “sorry.” This is something I struggle with in all aspects of my life. I say sorry at home, at work, to my family, to inanimate objects when I bump into them… it’s a problem. After reading everyone’s stories about infertility, I noticed that no one apologized for sharing their story, something I constantly feel the urge to do. Women have reached out to me and men have reached out to my husband. Not a single person has apologized because there is absolutely NO NEED TO! If you ever feel the need to apologize, stop and ask yourself, “what am I apologizing for?”

I am grateful for all of the advice and comfort that my husband and I have been given. This week has given me hope even though I am not pregnant and I am just waiting. It’s given me hope because I am surrounded by amazing humans who are loving and supporting. Friends and family are actively praying for us and sending us sweet cards and messages. God is revealing to us every day how blessed we are and how great our life is. That does not mean we are going to stop trying and that we will not have bad days, but weeks like this help our heart to heal a little bit.

Gross Gardening Analogy

First of all, I wanted to thank every single person who read my last post. The flood of positive comments, texts, and PMs have been overwhelmingly uplifting. I knew I wasn’t alone, but the personal messages brought so much warmth to my heart. I started this to find a sense of community, and a community I found. Thank you.

As a follow-up:

I went to the doctor the day after I wrote my last post for another ultrasound appointment. I thought it would be good news. We were looking for the follicles in my ovaries to be more developed and prepared for ovulation. Unfortunately, they were too small. None of the ovulation tests I have taken this month have been positive. It’s made me angry at my body, but also more motivated to keep working out and to keep praying and writing. Our family has been absolutely INCREDIBLE in their support and help to us. My husband and I would not be able to keep ourselves optimistic if it was not for the emotional and financial support from our families. Thank you.

As we’ve received all of these messages and stories from others who have experienced the same or similar things as us, it’s put me in a mental position to be quicker to pray for others before myself. I just want everyone to be happy! Is that so much to ask?

While I sit at home this summer, it has been very easy to get caught up in the abyss of my mind. I keep finding myself thinking about school and about kids. To keep out of my mind, I get to work on some summer projects. I knocked out half of my summer to-do list in the first few days.

One of the things that I habitually check on in the summer is my garden. Last year, my husband helped me build a garden in our back yard and it turned into the most productive cucumber garden. I planted more than cucumbers, but let me warn you, cucumber plants CAN and WILL take over. This year, I tried to only plant a few cucumber plants and it has been a little more manageable. We also have tomatoes, corn, onions, and sunflowers growing. I also have (for the first time) successfully planted and grown herbs in pots on the porch.

All of the plants that have successfully grown blow my mind. Have you ever seen the size of a cucumber seed? It’s little. So so little. Especially compared to the plant that grows from it. All of the DNA required to grow an entire plant is contained in the shell of a tiny seed. How could such a small thing contain the roots and stems and leaves and flowers and fruits?? It is nothing short of a miracle.

The teeny tiny eggs inside of me are being jerks right now. The soil is good, the water is good, the sunlight is good. So why won’t they grow? I know the biological answer: they’re not maturing. It has to do with the hormone imbalance. Regardless, it makes me angry and sad.

Right now, all I can do it pray for the eggs to do what they are supposed to and to take care of the soil, water, and sunlight needed. The end product is very worth it, even if I have to get a plant from the nursery.

Infertility and Me

I am a verbal processor, through and through. I need to say things out loud or they do not make any sense. Often that means saying them out loud to myself so that I can hear the words and feel them leaving my face. Recently a friend of mine reminded me of how helpful verbal processing can be for emotional processing and suggest I write my journey down.

A journey can mean just about anything these days, but currently, mine is one that many women are going through, have gone through, and will go through. I am sharing now so that those who feel or have felt what my heart is feeling can be reminded of what I constantly need a reminder of – you are not alone. Infertility sucks.

Infertility can mean many different things to each individual woman. I am going to share my specific journey so that those who can identify with some of it can feel a comfort and sense of community that can prove to be extremely therapeutic. I am going to be very blunt and use no modesty, so continue with caution.

My journey started in college. I started to have periods with an insane amount of pain and a very heavy flow. My cramps kept me in bed, sending me to the toilet over and over for several days. I was so irregular; I would go between having pads and tampons with me wherever I went to not having any at all in any place. I would have two to three periods within one month and then not have another for five to six months. All of this was strange to me. I started having periods when I was nine years old (yes, nine) and was very regular and had minimal cramping. To start being so irregular made me feel like something was not quite right.

After not having a period after seven months (and having a zero percent chance of being pregnant), I finally went to the doctor. They ordered an ultrasound and found a large cyst on one of my ovaries. Even though it was only one, I was diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) and endometriosis. The best course of action: birth control pills. Initially, I was not fond of the idea of taking birth control. My mother had a stroke in her thirties and the only real lead doctors had on a cause was the birth control she was on. Needless to say, I was not leaping with joy at the idea of taking birth control myself, especially since there was no need to control birth as I was practicing abstinence. I decided after a few months and a nasty period and bout of cramps, this was my best option. A follow-up ultrasound after another bad period showed that the cyst had burst and dissipated.

Fast forward several years: I married my best friend and we had the same ideas about when to have kids and how many we wanted (I may want a couple more than he does). We decided to start trying to have kids so I stopped taking the birth control. I did not have a period for over six months after stopping. A tiny glimmer of hope would creep into my mind that maybe, just maybe, I got pregnant on the first try. Silly me.

I finally had a very painful, very heavy period that was different than anything I had experienced. My GP said I most likely had an early miscarriage. What a heart break. I might have finally conceived and I didn’t even know it. Part of me wishes deeply that I did not know. If I had life in me that is no longer there, there is a part of me missing that I will never get back.

We tried to get pregnant on our own for a year before we decided to see a doctor. I went for an annual visit and after discussing the symptoms, the doctor called for blood tests. The verdict: I had a very interesting cocktail of off-balance hormones. They sent me off to an in-house fertility specialist, a doctor that I would end up seeing very often. I was told (again) that I have PCOS even though I did not actually have any cysts on my ovaries – very confusing information. My hormone imbalance and anovulation had a direct relationship with the PCOS. The final verdict: I don’t ovulate, or at least not very often. I was also told that I had a low level of AMH, a hormone that indicates how many eggs I have left.

At this point, I had not had a period in about three months. I was given progesterone pills to take for eight days to bring on a period and when I had the period and it ended, I was given Clomid for five days, a prescription drug to stimulate ovulation. We did this for two months while I took ovulation tests every day without a single positive test. For those who have done ovulation tests or will do them, use a bigger cup than a little Dixie cup. I can not tell you how often I get pee on my hands and all down my legs. (I wash my hands every time, promise.)

Clomid can have many side effects – mine were fatigue and irritability. My poor husband. I knew I was not quite myself when I snapped at him for asking me to do something extremely reasonable: put the chicken (that he grilled and that he cut up for our lunch salads for the week) in a tupperware and in the fridge. Apparently, I did not like the way that he said “maybe you could put away the chicken while I take a shower.” My crazy brain wanted him to ask more directly and maybe while also on his knees and presenting me with chocolate and a beer and tiara.

Two months of Progesterone and Clomid with nothing to show for it. During the second month, I was brought in for an ultrasound during the middle of my “cycle” and they found a large cyst on my left ovary. They said it could be me getting ready to ovulate or it could just be a cyst. We continued on to the rest of the month and did not get pregnant. I did not have a period on my own so I must not have ovulated. More progesterone.

My doctor ordered a hyterosalpingogram (HSG). For those who do not know what that is, it sucks. They insert a catheter in your cervix and inject dye into your uterus while you are under an x-ray. My body did NOT like having the catheter inserted. I started to cramp something terrible. Using the x-ray and the contrast dye, they look for irregularities in uterus shape and to check if the fallopian tubes are open by looking for the dye to flow through. My uterus is retroverted (it leans backward) but otherwise looked great and one of my tubes is open. The other tube was slightly blocked until the doctor pushed more dye through to open up the tube. By pushing more dye in, my muscles contracted even more. I can only guess that the pain I felt was something like childbirth. I almost passed out after the procedure from the pain. I sat there, pantsless and covered in lube, blood, and dye, unable to move without wanting to puke. Nurses came in to take my blood pressure and try to keep me awake as I went from feeling nauseous to sleepy. It took several minutes before I felt strong enough to get dressed and cleaned up. Afterwards, I took an antibiotic to make sure I did not get an infection. That antibiotic made my stomach churn every day I was on it. The whole procedure resulted in us having to pay over $1,250 after insurance paid their portion.

I was given Progesterone again (which makes me very, very sleepy) but this time for five days instead of the previously prescribed eight. I waited two weeks for a period and nothing. Finally I called and they prescribed eight days of progesterone, again. I was exhausted. At the very beginning of my cycle, I was brought it for yet another ultrasound to get a sort of “base line” on my ovaries. It appears as if I have two follicles on my left ovary and two tiny ones on the right. I was prescribed Clomid again, but my pharmacy called the doctor back saying that my insurance did not cover it. After some research, I found that the manufacturers don’t make Clomid anymore and that some pharmacies will make it in-house. Nevertheless, they called my doctor and so I was prescribed five days of Letrozole, a different ovulation stimulant. Letrozole made me very depressed half of the time and crazy energetic other times. It did seem a little more encouraging when I started to look into the difference between Letrozole and Clomid. I will go back this week to get another ultrasound to check on the progression of the follicles in my ovaries, if there is any progress. This is my third cycle of hormone therapy.

If this cycle does not work, we will do one more month of ovulation stimulant hormones. The next step, or at least what I have been told, involves a different type of hormone, a follicle-stimulating hormone or FSH. I would take it orally or eventually as injections. The chance for twins and triplets increase once I move to injections. After that, we have to decide between three options: In-vitro fertilization (expensive), adoption (expensive), or we give up (heart-breaking). IVF on average costs $12,000 (per each attempt) and is not successful every time. If we went the adoption route, adopting in-state is also about $12,000. To reduce some financial stress, we could consider foster-to-adopt which would take a very long time and there’s the possibility that we do not end up with a child at the end of the process.

If you haven’t already guessed, taking different hormones can alter your emotional and physical state drastically. I go through bouts of anger and irritability, my weight fluctuated for awhile and then I just keep gaining weight, I get very sad very often, and I am constantly tired. The hormone imbalance caused me to gain weight and the doctor’s orders for combating the weight gain is to work harder to lose weight. Putting the hormones aside, this has been one of the most emotionally draining chapters in my life. The ups and downs of hope and disappointment have all but destroyed my optimism. I’ve struggled with depression and sadness before, but going through this is a whole new level. My brain knows what is true, but my heart cannot help but seek the darkest corners.

My husband is seven years older than me. He waited for a long time for a wife and kids. Our dating was the most fun time in my life and I still cannot believe he asked me to marry him. I was so excited to have kids with him. He wanted them, I wanted them, he wanted to be a father, I wanted to be a mother. When I first started realizing that getting pregnant was going to be more than just having lots of sex (which I naively thought would be the key), I kept falling into a dark place in my mind. How awful for my husband to wait for a wife and when he finally gets one, she’s broken and can’t give him the kids he wants. All of the doctor visits, prescriptions, mood swings, financial kick to the face, and the sick days, my husband loved me the same every day. He cared for me and checked on me. He’s taught me to rely on the Lord more and to look on the bright side whenever there was a glimmer of sunshine. He has been my rock and I am grateful for him. So in my mind, this man does not deserve to deal with any of this crap and it made me feel even worse. I am a burden.

I know that I am just one of literally millions of women that struggle with getting pregnant or keeping a pregnancy. I know that my year and a half of struggle is a drop in the bucket to women who struggle for five, ten, fifteen years to get pregnant. We’re surrounded by accidental teen pregnancy and extremely fertile couples who get pregnant just by looking at each other. We envy those who are pregnant and have babies. It does not matter what side you stand on, hearing about someone having an abortion while you sit there without any baby inside you is devastating. Why can’t I have your baby? Why can’t I get pregnant as easily as you?

Then there’s being in community with those who get pregnant whenever they decide. They just “decided it was time for another” and before you know it, they have their ideal number of children. I don’t know what water they’re drinking, but I want some. In the same community, you’re surrounded with those who have been trying for years and have miscarried. How can I even begin to feel like I have the same struggles as they? I have not felt the same heart-break as they have.

The weirdest person to deal with is the pregnant women who feel like they have to hide their pregnancy from me. Personally, I feel very strongly that women who are pregnant should not feel one ounce of shame for being around those who can’t. Let us celebrate your pregnancy with you. Your joy and excitement does not take away from mine. I am happy to have your support and to talk about your pregnancy. It may sting and I may be jealous, but that’s an issue with my heart, not yours. Let me partake in your joy as you await the arrival of your little one.

I wrote this so that I could share my story and seek community with other women who have experienced even one part of what I’ve experienced. I do not have all of the answers and I am by no means an expert. I’m just verbally processing and hoping that someone is listening. If you want to verbally process with me, I’m here.