Birth

Yesterday my friend, who was 3 weeks ahead of me in pregnancy, gave birth to a boy. A beautiful son.

Hearing her birth story and holding her son made me grieve anew the loss of our son. Our son was due to be born on February 9th. Our sons would have grown up together, played together, hopefully prayed together.

I'm so glad for her and her husband. I'm thankful to God that he kept them all safe and healthy when she was in labour. I'm so glad that I had the strength and enough love for them to visit them in the hospital.

But I hurt. So much. My heart aches for my lost child, for the lost opportunity to parent, for what could have been.

I hurt for what may happen next, the vast, horrible unknown of it all.

Meh...

Yesterdays doctor's appointment did not go as expected. Essentially he scoffed at the MTHFR and homocysteine diagnosis, saying that it makes no difference to a woman's ability to conceive or give birth to healthy children, and suggested that the doctor who made the diagnosis gets excited by blood test results that she shouldn't be excited by.

When he said this, so bluntly, I felt the world collapse from under me and I couldn't stop crying. I realised how much hope I was putting in this diagnosis being the answer to all our problems. As you can tell from my last post, I was expecting that we would have a clear direction after yesterdays appointment; a decision of whether we would stop or continue IVF.

So the appointment didn't turn out like either DH or I expected. It did not give us the direction we are so obviously craving. The doctor did send me for blood tests to recheck my homocysteine level (I have no idea why) and suggested that is might be a marker for something else wrong in my body. He seems to be thinking there might be something wrong with my kidneys. At this point I was feeling a little incredulous. I mean, who cares about my kidneys when my entire reproductive system isn't working!!? DH explained to me (putting his medical hat on for a moment) that the kidney's regulate hormones and have a great deal to do with fertility.

So. I'll get blood results back on Thursday or Friday and I have a couple of tests/ultrasounds I'll need to get to in between Christmas, New Year and holidays.

We're not completely decided as to whether we will continue IVF in 2011. I feel so very fragile emotionally and I feel I won't be able to bear another loss. Also, I can't help wondering if the feeling I had back in my early 20s that I'll never be a mother should be heeded. I know feelings can be just feelings, but I want to hear God's call on my life and I plan to spend the holiday break praying and listening to God.

Knowing

Can I know? I mean really know in the deep recesses of my mind and soul that I will never bear children?

When I was about 10 years old I told my Nanna that I felt like I knew things, knew them before they happened and wasn't surprised when they did happen. She told me that she believed the women in our family have such a gift of knowing. I was 10 so I took this as fact and didn't ask about it further. She died when I was 16 and I never talked to her about it again.

From childhood I knew that I would die at 20. This isn't as morbid as it sounds. It was one of those thoughts in the back of my mind. A statement similar to "I am going to school today" in its weight and yet not as immediately obvious as to its truth. I was convinced it was true. Yet it didn't impact me greatly, I was young and I still planned and dreamed for my adult life. The thing is, I did die when I was 20. Not a physical death, but a spiritual one. A month before Easter in the year I was 20 years old I was given the gift of faith, and as such counted myself "dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus" (Romans 6:11). In scriptural words my old sinful self died and I was born again (John 3:3, 1Peter 1:23).

During high school I became convinced that I would lose my first child. Again it was a calm knowing, a quiet fact, one that didn't bother me as much as impending exams, hormones, friends and boys. Since that time I have miscarried my first child, and numerous others.

In the weeks following my conversion to Christ I had a strong knowing sense that I would never have children. I talked about it with my Mum and she shared she had always feared that would be true for her too, and yet it obviously wasn't and she told me not to worry. At the time I wasn't worried about it. Again it was simply a fact, a deep stirring in my heart with no immediate implications as I wasn't in a relationship and had no plans for marriage.

During this most recent IVF cycle I knew I would get pregnant. I've never known before, never had that deep confidence that I would conceive. I've hoped, prayed, and misinterpreted symptoms, but never known I would be pregnant. I find myself almost unable to explain how I knew (and how I didn't know it wouldn't continue). It seems ridiculous to me, a trained scientist-practitioner, that I would support a theory based on gut instinct without any tangible evidence. Then again, I suppose that is what (a simplified view of) faith is.

So as my DH and I face another IVF cycle I am pondering this question: Do I know that I can't have children?

There is no medical evidence that I won't conceive or bear a child to term.
I do not have a direct revelation from God saying that I won't have children.

And yet I have had a feeling for 10 years that I won't have children, and a growing heart and love for children in need. Years ago my DH and I discovered our love for children, not just our hoped-for own, but all children, in all circumstances. We planned (huh!) to have a couple children of our own and then to foster children in need, to combine our desire for a big family with our heart for struggling and lost families.

I feel terribly confused. I think that the answer won't become apparent until it's the right time, but I could do with some guidance.

Irony

Last night I ovulated.

For me this is a pretty normal occurrence. It's all part of my "normal" infertility existence. This time I felt it when I ovulated. This is not my usual experience, but it has happened before.

When I felt it, I felt something else too. It's hard to explain.

It's something like sadness but with more hope.

It's like a reflection of my past when I considered myself fertile, and yet now I know I am not.

It's feeling normal and functional, but not expecting anything to come from it.

It aches in me and yet at the same time it lightens me and reminds me to hope.



I will to continue to trust in the Lord. For he knows the plans he has for me, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)

There is no irony there. Just clear-cut truths.

Themes

Each year, around this time, a theme for the following year comes to me. Usually it's a different theme for each year, something to focus on, to ask God for, and to grow in. The first year of my knowing God the theme was Relationship as I sought to know him better. The first year of my marriage the theme was Submission as I sought to not overpower my husband with my (often argumentative) point of view. Not surprisingly the past couple of years, as we've attempted to conceive a child, the theme has been one of Patience.

When I first believed in God someone said to me to be careful what I ask him for, because the answer to my prayer may be different than the one I expected. This advice has often been accurate. During the year where I sought relationship with God I was newly and unusually single and longed for a boyfriend. I believe God kept me single for 3 years so I could strengthen my relationship with Him. Although somewhat frustrated with this at the time, God's wisdom prevailed and I maintained a strong faith as well as marrying a man with a similarly strong faith.

When I thought we were having trouble conceiving, 6 months into trying and approaching the new year, I asked God to teach me patience and trust over the coming year. Well God decided that I needed to continue that lesson of patience into the following year and this year's theme has continued the same. I am pleased to say, that under God I have developed patience beyond which I could have ever imagined two years ago.

This brings me to my theme for 2010. Yesterday I read in my Bible:

^"2Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, ³because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. ⁴Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.... ¹²Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him." James 1

My theme for next year is Perseverance. May God bless me with the wisdom, maturity, and faith that I require to run this race called life. May God uphold me in faith so that no matter what 2010 holds I will be confident in the promises my God has made.

An unhealthy dose of fear

I just can't stop crying. I don't want to go out. I just want to hide away and not think about anything.

When I think I start to get scared.

I'm scared at the strength of my grief. I'm scared that the only mothering I'll ever get to do is grieving my lost children. I'm scared I'll never hold my children in my arms. I'm scared I'll lose all my friends. I'm scared to go out in case I lose the plot/feel angry at families with children/break something and/or scream. I'm scared that people might see this side of me. I'm scared of having nothing to do, of having no goals during the next two months break from TTC. I'm scared of how much I'll scream at people when they say, "Count your blessings", or "It wasn't to be" or "maybe next time". I'm scared that there will be no end to this horrible, painful, insidious time of infertility.

I'm scared that I'm not myself. I'm scared that I won't be the self that I have dreamed of since I was 10 years old, I'm scared I won't be able to call myself "Mother".

A strange gift

I'm not sure how I do it. It's a gift. I seem to have a sense when a friend of mine is pregnant. Today I guessed the 5th out of 5. I wonder if it's God protecting my heart by giving my head forewarning? At least today I had the sense to email my friend and ask her directly, rather than waiting to be told in person when I see her on Saturday. That way I could have my little cry and plead with God in private and I can show her joy on the weekend.

If only the gift extended to knowing when I'll be pregnant...

Change in plans

We met with our FS last night and have decided to give one round of IVF a go before the end of the year. So now I start injecting on CD2! I just have to wait until AF gets here. I'm normally a 28-day cycle girl, but it's now three days late, which is unusual for me. I doubt it's a miracle and I'm pregnant, probably just the last of the strange hormones abating since the last IUI.

DH and I are doing a modified version of IVF, where we only fertilize the number of eggs we are willing to transfer (i.e. we will not freeze embryos). Our FS will try to freeze surplus eggs so we don't have to go through a full IVF cycle each time.

I'm glad we're giving another cycle a go this year, I was having difficulty thinking we'd have to wait 4 months before trying again.

We're still waiting on chromosomal test results, but our FS thinks these will be fine.

We're off interstate for a couple of days in an hour or so. Unfortunately a number of DH's relatives are very sick, and probably dying, so we're going to visit them. We're also fitting a visit in with a friend who I used to be very close with but have since fallen out with since going through IF together and then her pregnancy. Her daughter is now 4 months old and I haven't met her yet. It's going to be a big week.

Test Results

Our FS rang this afternoon with some of the results from my recent BTs. She had ordered:

• ANA
• AP THROMBOPLASTIN
• LUPA
• VIT D
• CARDLP
• MTHFR FVL PGM
• Sperm Ab
• HCG

I only know this from the bill I received last week, I have little idea what any of them mean and I've refused to ask Dr Google until I was told that any of them were positive. Evidently most of them are "normal" or close to normal, with one needing repeating. Of all things, I have a Vitamin D deficiency. Damn you pale skin and hot Australian sun!

In hindsight it's probably a good thing that the results were normal, DH has certainly said so. I can see this now, but initially, all I could think was that my results were "normal" again and that no-one can tell me what is wrong and how to fix it. How can I be so normal and yet so absolutely infertile?! I broke down and cried uncontrollably for an hour. I'm so scared that I'll never be a mother. Why can't the doctors work out what is happening and fix it so we can get pregnant?!

So now it looks like I'll start swallowing yet another vitamin tablet and make an appointment for IVF in February (it can't be earlier because our clinic closes over Christmas and DH has a big exam for work in early Feb). I'm going to go have a drink and eat some chocolate.

I don't have "Infertile" stamped on my forehead! Yay!

I went to speak to my auntie yesterday, to tell her about our IF situation and ask her to support my Mum. She was great about it! I started by telling her, "DH and I have been trying to have a baby" at which she started smiling. I quickly added, "For 2 1/2 years", and she immediately looked so sad (I'm so lucky to be so loved by my family). She was amazing. She didn't ask any questions but took everything I said at face value. She didn't placate me with empty encouragements, but seemed like she understood what it is to experience pain and suffering and offered DH and I her support. She also said the best thing. She said she hadn't even thought that we would be trying to have kids. She seemed upset about why she wouldn't have realised. I told her it was the best thing I'd heard in ages. Sometimes I feel like my infertility is advertised in a sign with flashing lights above my head. It feels so obvious to me, so I was glad to know it isn't always obvious to others.

Later that night I went to a friend's housewarming party. I met a woman who is starting her honours project in pig reproduction next year. Yep, that's right. Pig reproduction. Without being asked (believe me I would never ask!) she went into (way too much) detail about pig eja.cula.tion, the improvement of pig embryos, and diets to improve the quality of pig oocytes. I know I'm comfortable (for the most part) talking about reproduction and reproductive organs etc, but talking about it with pigs to a complete stranger!? At first I was a little horrified, but then I remembered that I don't wear a sign saying "I'm infertile" around my neck, so I had a little giggle about it and then gently changed the topic to more suitable "we've just met" conversation!

So some people may have guessed that we are having difficulty falling pregnant (a pastor at our church, not even our pastor!; the children's ministry worker; my boss) but it seems like it's not obvious to everyone. Whew!

Catching up

Finally I'm back on the computer! My DH is gearing up for a big exam in a few months time and has been living in our study for the past 4 days, meaning that I can't access the computer until late at night when I'm too tired to post or read blogs. Today and the next couple of days he's at work and then he's doing full-time study until February. I'm going to have to get good at night time computer work.

There's not much to report on the infertility front. Other than blood tests (results in a week) and trying to organise a uterine blood flow US not much has been happening. I must say that I do like not injecting hormones into my belly. I have been much more even-tempered and relaxed about life. In saying that, I've never really been either of those things, but there has been a vast improvement! The other day I ovulated naturally and right-on-time. Partly I'm thankful that my cycles are so regular, but it did get me down that everything feels so "normal" and yet we're not trying to get pregnant this month. On the up side, a bottle of champagne is in the fridge chilling, ready for my birthday celebrations.

Next Tuesday is my 30th birthday. I was planning a party, but realised that I wasn't feeling up to it. I'm not enjoying big social events at the moment, but also I had a couple of "tongue-in-cheek" comments about "Oooh, 30...must be time for, you know...[babies]" A whole party of people suggesting that? No thank you. So instead I'm doing a week of smaller celebrations. A vintage movie outing with two best friends, lunch with Mum and sister, dinner with DH, dinner with friends, lunch with in-laws. I've been promised french champagne and spoiling - so I'm looking forward to it! :)

My Mum asked whether she could confide in my auntie (her SIL) about our infertility, as she has no-one to talk to about it, other than me and my sister. Her sister has become a grandma twice within the last six months and isn't all that sensitive to my Mum. She doesn't know about us, but even if she did, I don't think it would help. So, I have arranged to meet tomorrow with my other auntie (my Dad's sister) to tell her about our IF. It's difficult to be so private. Because we live in a smallish town, my auntie is friends with one of my "helpers" at a childrens group I coordinate at church, who I don't want to know about our IF. DH thought that if I speak to her directly she might be more sensitive to our information and not pass it on to anyone. I think we feel extra cautious because I told my boss before I left work and asked her not to tell anyone, but she passed on the information to two other managers who may not feel so protective about it. I'm worried I'll go back to work next year and everyone will know.

Wow, that was a lot of blah. Sorry. It's all out now and I'll be back to concise and topical blog posts tomorrow.... :)

From grief to champagne

Well the plan was to grieve for two days and then get back on with life. Six days later and I'm back to feeling ok again. The strength of my grief took me by surprise. The variation of emotions and thoughts over 5 days of immense sadness are too many to recount easily. It is safe to say that I thought we were at the end of our TTC journey, that I would never birth or mother a child, and that I was filled with sorrow.

Thanks to the mercy of God, a wonderful husband, and a fantastic FS we have a plan.

Last night we saw the FS to review the IUIs and plan the next step. I told her about the positive HPTs I have had for 2 IUI cycles (I refused to POAS for the 2nd cycle) and she thought that it couldn't be due to the Pregnyl because of the time line. Because I have now had 3 positive pregnancy tests this year (following the removal of endometriosis) she suggested that our problem is not fertilization, but is instead implantation. I can't believe it. I can get "pregnant" but my body aborts the embryo before it can implant. How can I want something so much and yet my very body thwarts me in achieving it??

So now the plan is to undergo more tests. Blood tests to determine something-or-other (might have to ask DH to recall that one) and chromosomal issues; scans to check uterine blood flow. Our next step depends on the outcome of these tests. Best case scenario is medication (clexane and aspirin) and then another IUI in December. I'm not sure what the worst case scenario is. Maybe we won't be able to have children at all. At least we'll know then and can move on in some way. I feel surprisingly at peace about it all.

So I may be partway through our one month off TTC, or we may need to have more months off. I'm not sure. I'm already enjoying not injecting hormones. I feel like me again. I'm loving that Spring has sprung and my town is basked in glorious sunshine. I love that DH has just woken up from night-shift and I get to hang out with him - he's shockingly funny and cute when he's recovering from night shifts.

It's my 30th birthday in a couple of weeks. Bring on the French champagne.

"In cases such as these, a good memory is unpardonable"

So spoke Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice when she told her sister about her betrothal to Mr Darcy. She had hated him. But she was right, when you're engaged, it's best to forget about that.

It's the same with infertility.

My poor memory serves me well. Without it, I'd probably never get through repeated rounds of fertility treatments. Each cycle I start, surprisingly oblivious to what is to come. I even make statements such as "I won't analyze my symptoms this cycle." Of course I will. That statement was made when I had no symptoms!

On Sunday night I injected my final Pregnyl injection for this cycle. Within an hour I was sobbing. The next day my breasts had increased in size and hurt like blazes. I was constipated. I am nauseous in the mornings. This morning I woke up and almost burst into tears because I had accidentally thrown out the wrong piece of paper. It didn't matter. It had no effect. And yet I was devastated.

My body believes that it's pregnant. I won't know if it is or isn't for another week.

How on earth do I ignore the symptoms!??! How on earth do I reconcile to my brain that it's only my body that feels pregnant, it's only because of the injected hormones that it feels this way!??! What do I do with the hope that surges with my HSG levels??

I forgot that it was like this during the second week of the 2ww last time. And the time before. Yet I can't remember how I got through it last time either.

In cases such as these, a good memory is unpardonable. If I had a good memory, I probably wouldn't have put myself through this again.

Give and Take

Some days I think I'm getting used to "being infertile". Some days I figure that this is my lot in life and I can handle it. Some days I feel like I can handle infertility for even longer, other days I feel like I cannot handle one more second of "hope deferred".

Today I'm continuing with my resolve to not analyze every symptom, I've even convinced myself that I'm not having any! But an analytical mind must be directed somewhere, or else my resolve will break. So today I'm reflecting on the Give and Take nature of infertility.

On first thoughts, infertility has taken more than it has given. It has taken,

• my naivety about conception and how easy it can be
• whole days given over to sadness and grief
• at times, my lightheartedness and joy in life
• my ability to think about anything else unrelated to IF for long periods of time
• my closeness to a best friend who, although she once struggled with IF herself, has had chronic moments of insensitivity when she became pregnant and birthed a child
• my ability to conceive naturally, without intervention
• at times, my hope about becoming a mother
  
• at times, my ability to sympathise with mothers who struggle with their children
• my ability to appear cheerful and happy, when I feel anything but
• my sense of control

But it has given me things too. Infertility has given me,

• an absolute appreciation for life and how precious it is
• increased closeness to my husband
• a continued desire to trust in God for all things
• the ability to give myself sub-cut injections
• an internal view of my reproductive system (I have pictures!)
  
• weight-gain, bloating, headaches, aching breasts.... (but this was supposed to be a positive list!) :)
• the resolve that I do want to be a mother above any other career options
  
• humility as I've had to confide in people what is happening to us (as well as having specialists view parts of me I'd rather they hadn't!)
• gratefulness for medical provisions for infertility and our ability to afford treatment
• an increased heart for children who suffer or are abused, and a joint desire with my husband to foster children
• the knowledge that my husband longs to be a father and that this has increased each day of our struggle
  
• the knowledge that I am loved by family and friends, who even if they are not sure how to care for me, do their very best every day
• irrepressible hope
  

I do hope I don't have to wear the mantle of infertility for much longer. Although I have gained much through the past two years, the burden of IF feels too much to bear at times. I will just have to continue to trust that God knows of our pain, it was He who said,

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life. Proverbs 13:12

He is the gardener, I will trust in Him.