Infertility.

A reader of my blog requested (a while back) that I do a post on the emotional part of infertility and how I managed to get through it.  I haven't had the time to compile this post (it isn't an easy one to write), but thanks to our recent snowmageddon, I've had some extra time.  This post is full of raw emotion and pure honesty, and will probably seem all over the place.  I was hesitant to post some of it at first, but this is my blog and these types of posts are my way of getting my feelings out and working through them.

First, I don't feel as though I have "beat" infertility.  Yes, we are currently pregnant.  But in my mind, I see it more as getting over one speed bump.. I guess.  Winning one inning, or one game out of a full season.  I will always be infertile.  We will always be a couple that has to fight this unfair battle.  The minute our little boy comes into this world, we will immediately go back to being infertile.  I have not beat it.  It will always be a part of me.  After many months of struggling, I have learned to accept that.  However, I have also decided that I will not let it define me.

Our journey has not been an easy one.  If you have been an avid follower, you know our story from start to the present.  If you are a newbie, here is a quick re-cap.  We were told IVF was our only option from the beginning.  While this totally sucks, I was also glad that we were able to just bring out the big guns from the start and not have to suffer through multiple failed IUI attempts.  Our first fresh cycle (last spring) resulted in a singleton pregnancy.  At our 8 week ultrasound, we learned that the baby no longer had a heart beat.  I had a D&C the following day.  Our second cycle (a frozen cycle) took place over the summer.  We transferred two perfect embryos.  The cycle was a complete failure.  Our third cycle took place in September/October.  We transferred another two perfect embryos, and this cycle resulted in a singleton pregnancy.  We are currently about to hit our half way mark with this pregnancy and are beyond thankful and grateful.

These cycles were all filled with both physical and emotional pain.  

On the physical side, I was terrified of needles walking into this.  At this point, you can stab me with a 2 inch long syringe and I'm not going to flinch.  However, the blood work still gets me.  Apparently I can't see my own blood.  My body was covered in bruises.  I still have two numb spots above my butt from the PIO shots.  I have no idea if I will ever regain feeling in this area, but I don't care.  The veins in my elbows have so much scar tissue that they need to "pop" through the tissue to get to my actual vein.  The sting from the Lovenox (blood thinner) shots was intense every single night.  The bloat and pain from OHSS was not an easy feat, either.  It's more uncomfortable than anything, but it isn't a walk in the park.  

The physical pain is nothing compared the emotional side/pain of infertility.

Infertility just plain hurts.  No way of hiding that fact.  You feel that everyone around you is pregnant.  And they got pregnant at the drop of a hat the first month they tried.  You feel like a failure as a woman because you can't do the one thing you are put on this earth to do.  You feel like you are wasting your time and money.. and a lot of both.  You feel like you are never going to get past it.  You feel like it is never going to end.  And the struggle really never does end.

The original question was, how did I work through this?  

At first I kept it all in.  I hid the fact that we were dealing with infertility and going through IVF from everyone except family and very close friends.  I was a closed book.  I quickly learned that this was not the way to go.  Keeping things in is not healthy.  I made my blog public.  I slowly shared with people who asked the never ending question, "When are you going to have kids?".  I connected with some amazing women online who were/are walking down the same path.  My support system grew day by day.  It was one of the best things I could have done.  Without these people (especially my online friends, who I may never meet in person) I would not be where I am today.  They gave (and still give) me the strength and courage to wake up every day and fight this battle.  We send cards and care packages to each other, and let me tell you, they will brighten any crappy day!

I cried.  I am not an emotional person.  I rarely cry.  I do not wear my heart on my sleeve.  But after the first few weeks of our first cycle, I cried.  Yes, the insane amounts of hormones I was injecting into my body daily may have had a slight impact on this.  But I still did it.  And it was a relief.  Matt would ask what was wrong.  I didn't have an answer.  I just needed to cry.  And I felt better after I did.

I got a journal.  Writing has been my saving grace.  I still write almost daily.  I have a journal where I just write what I am feeling.  I also have a journal that one of my friends, Chelsea, gave me to write letters to my future baby.  I write to him.  I have found that writing anything helps.  When I look back as some of my entries I laugh.  When I look at others I wonder what the heck I was thinking.  But one thing is for sure.  It helped me at the time and that is all that matters.

I read.  I read books about infertility.  My favorite (to date) is Every Drunken Teenager, Why Not Me?  It's got a mix of humor, faith, and raw emotion while one woman shares her path down the walk of infertility.  I have read this book three times since March.  I have read a few others as well.  I also read blogs.  It helps me to see the journey other women have been on and after awhile, their success stories helped me as well.  They gave me hope.  The hope I needed to make it through the day.  To this day, I still have about twenty blogs that I diligently follow.  I love keeping up with these girls.

I strengthened my faith.  I have always been a Christian.  I have always gone to church while growing up.  I have always prayed.  I just upped the ante on these things.  We found a local church to attend, and go as often as we can.  I changed the way I prayed.  I began reading daily devotionals.  I made myself remember (daily) that everything happens for a reason and it will all happen in God's time according to His plan.  I gave all of my fears and anxiety to God.  Now, I still have some of those feelings in the back of my mind, but I know that I cannot change how anything happens.  It will be how He wants it to be, and I have accepted that fact.

I accepted the fact that some people stay and some people do not.  Not everyone is going to care about your struggles.  Not everyone is going to acknowledge the hardships you are going through.  Even some family members.  At first, this really bothered me and I worked to keep these relationships.  Then I realized that not everyone is meant to stay in your life forever.  And I let them go.  Right or wrong, I stopped fighting for my relationship with them.  I had myself, my husband, and my future child/children to worry about.  And that is where I shifted all of my strength to.  I focused on us and our future and let the negativity (and the negative people) go.  It worked for me.

And now, I have slightly shifted my "fight" even more.  I am focusing on and fighting for my son.  My (our) world revolves around him.  We now make decisions based on him.  If we don't think something is in our best interest because of him, we are not going to do it.  Plain and simple.  He is my (and our) world.  And he deserves the world.  I don't know if I will ever have the opportunity to experience pregnancy again in the future, or have another child.  So 100% of my focus is on this pregnancy and my son.  Not everyone understands that and likes that fact, and quite honestly, I do not care.  In my opinion, you don't have room to judge someone and their decisions until you walk even a minute in their shoes.  Especially if you are one of those people I referred to in the previous paragraph.

Every story is different.  But, I can tell you that the battle is not easy.  It hurts both physically and emotionally.  Probably more than anything you've ever experienced.  But every second, every once of pain, every penny of those tens of thousands of dollars spent, and every emotion experienced will be 110% worth it in the end when you see that little heart beat on the screen for the first time.  And again when you see your child wiggling around on that same ultrasound screen.  And when you feel he or she kick you for the first time.  And I can only imagine the overwhelming joy and appreciation for the battle the first time you get to hold your sweet baby in your arms for the first time.  I know I am looking forward to it more than anything.