Bittersweet

There have been times when I have wondered “why me?”  This is not a pity party I throw for myself.  I wouldn’t trade my challenges with anyone. I know that they were given to me for a reason. The emphasis is on the matter of “why” more than the fact that it’s “me.”  

This disease is diagnosed as unexplained.  Meaning everything is working properly; but yet it’s not working at all.  There is nothing that can be fixed. Today, we are all pretty accustomed to getting what we want.  This is the hardest work; to accept that there is no one I can call; no specialist or technician I can hire to show up and make the repair(s) that may be needed to mend what has been broken.  There is no obvious solution to an “I don’t know.”

Infertility has forced me to look within. I have always had this feeling that it isn’t a medical issue at all.  Somewhere along the way it became more spiritual to me.  I have a feeling that this is something that I have to go through to learn an important lesson.  A lesson that will transcend my existence beyond anything that I can conceive before it is realized (pun INtended).

Every day that I wake up is an opportunity to learn.  Every day, I wake up more aware.  This is preparing me to be a better mother.  Not a better mother in comparison to other mothers; but a better mother than I could have been the day before. Had my wish been granted immediately; I wouldn’t have had as much to offer back then as I do now.  I will have even more to offer tomorrow.

We’ve all had our paths changed along the way.   There are futures that we may have believed in and they fell apart at no fault of our own. Diversions can be interpreted as a failure.  When really, our paths are changed in life because even though we thought we knew what was best for us; we were wrong.  We must open our eyes to the possibility that lies beyond the disappointment, rather than wallow in our sorrows until we get what we want.  To sacrifice your joy for what is unknown would be the saddest part of it all.  There may be moments of frustration, but more than anything, when I am old and gray and I look back on my life I want to be able to say that I have truly lived.  I will not die inside of disappointment.   I will seize every experience and opportunity that comes my way. 

On the matter of the “me” in that question; I believe this challenge was given to me because deep down inside I know what to do with it.  I just have to dig deep enough to discover it.  It is possible to take the bitter and turn it sweet. All you have to do is believe.  

 

 

 

 

 

A Bullet and A Target

How can it be possible to feel both gratitude and loss all at once? Is it reasonable to admit that you feel the freedom left by an absence but you would trade in that freedom happily any day? Or is this a cop-out because it was never your choice to begin with?

Why don't we move forward another way like most of the others? Why don't we pursue adoption? Why won't I sacrifice more in order to make this a reality?

Maybe it's the little voice. I just have not let go of the glimmer of hope that one of these days this is going to happen for us. If it does, I swear I am going to buy the drug store out of pregnancy tests. I will lock myself in the bathroom and take one after the other just to watch that second line appear again and again!

Maybe it's the stubborn, rebellious inner teenager that says' "NO! You can't make me!"

If I thought I felt degraded at the doctor’s office, I had a reality check coming to me when we started to navigate the waters of the foster care system. The task at hand this time was to convince strangers that ours would be a wonderful environment for a child.

We asked our friends to take time out of their days to meet with case workers to attest to the stability of our character. There were background checks, finger prints, 12 weeks of classes; 4 hours, one night each week. We learned about all of the reasons people abuse their children. We were told it was important to have compassion for the birth families. Of course we were being put under a microscope. We ARE being entrusted with someone's children after all. Yes, that someone may have starved and beaten their child scarring them emotionally and physically for the rest of their lives yet, they still deserve respect and compassion.   

I remember sitting in those classes and feeling my blood boil. Week after week we heard examples and cases of abuse and were coached to believe it is best to subject a child to more of the same as the birth parent is allowed to re-enter their lives again and again to see if they can pass the test.

This is probably the biggest reason I am not cut out to be a foster-mother. In my mind; THEY ALREADY FAILED. I don't agree that a birth parent should be given an endless number of chances to get their shit together when a child's LIFE is at stake. I know it hurts a child to be separated from their birth family, even an abusive one; but I don't buy into the theory that the perpetrator should be treated as a victim. I will not sympathize with people who abuse their children. I don't believe their circumstance excuses their behavior.

That may make me sound cold but I am so tired of our modern day mind set. Accountability seems to have been lost and replaced with entitlement. Maybe if more parents feared REAL loss fewer kids would be abused. If we raise the stakes; can we raise the standard?

We sat down with a case worker to complete our "home study." We hashed out our entire life stories; the good, the bad and the ugly. To me this felt like begging someone to grant me something that so many took for granted and that so many abused. Once again, I found myself burning up with resentment. I resented every single second of it.

As a disclaimer, I must add that I do understand why the system is in place. I just don't feel it's effective. While my home was inspected for general safety & condition no one had any concern with our outbuildings. Wasn't there a case a few years back where foster parents were keeping kids in cages in the garage? And this isn't even on their two page itemized check list? Thanks to this process we now have a smoke detector installed in our home every 300 sq. ft. or so. I am not exaggerating. When I burn toast, the whole mountain knows it.

Our wood stove and small pond were both items we were lectured about. While our garage could have looked like a scene from a horror film and they'd never know. They didn't even care.

The system... I just couldn't work with it. I wish I had it in me to grovel happily for the chance to give a child in need a safe and loving home. I wanted to jump through their hoops and pass the exam. I know all the reasons why I SHOULD feel compassion toward drug addicts who abuse their children repeatedly. But, I don't feel it and I never will.

We completed the process of being certified to foster children. After getting through all of that we were still excited at the possibility of providing a safe home to a child in need. It just turned into another dead end. I see these experiences we had as a sign. We were putting our whole selves into the process and the only thing we were getting back was grief. Every interaction turned into its own little disaster.

Was this the weak way out? Did I "give up?" Some may say that. It felt more like giving in. I cried "uncle" because I could see this system was too big, too much for lil' ol' me to create any positive change. I see each battle lost as a sign that I am not in fact on the right path.

The same part of me that still has hope for "someday" is even a little thankful that "someday" hasn't arrived just yet. Kind of like how I don't want Christmas to come because then it will be over. It's a missing piece; a mystery left yet to be discovered. Even after 12 years of failure I can't stop thinking that my day might still be coming.

Listen to me... I just can't help it. I will never stop putting myself between the bullet and the target.

White Coats

Doctors.  I guess I have to admit up front that I have ALWAYS had a "thing" about doctors.  My parents have told me as a child I had a deeply embedded fear of those white coats.  There were many visits I had to be physically restrained. 

It has proven to be a sign of what was to come in my future.  I STILL have a deeply embedded fear of those white coats. 

When we began talking to the doctors about starting a family I was pretty young.  We married young.  I guess I can't really blame them for not taking me seriously. I WAS young. But, I had read that a woman's most fertile years were before she was 23.  I was 22-ish.  The year that had already passed by was a huge red flag to me.  To be so young and not even have a "scare" seemed unbelievable already.  They did tests. All was "normal" aside from the glaring fact that my reproductive system was definitely not working. It wasn't reproducing! This took us through the first couple of years. 

I remember feeling scared.  In retrospect; I just knew inside this was going to be a long road.  About three years "in" we started seeing specialists. My primary doctor finally agreed that this might need to be addressed more thoroughly.  Only, I had no idea what seeing a specialist REALLY meant at the time. 

Do you know what the medical solution to this disease is?  Pregnancy.  The treatment?  Hormones. Do you know what hormones do to a person? I think they are improperly named.  They should be called "Raging Bitch Serum." Seriously, it would be more appropriate. 

When you are in the grips of this you will do anything that someone tells you will increase your chances of success.  And I did.  I didn't stop to think back then. These things were items you checked off the list.  If this lighter hormone doesn't work then you move on to the big boys.  The ones you have to mix and inject yourself. Before you know it you are carrying a cooler filled with fertility drugs and a sharps container; instead of beer and chips to your friends bar-b-q (it's very important to stay on schedule with your shots).

Doctors are trained to use synthetic drugs in response to symptoms and when they exhaust that effort they shrug their shoulders, look you directly in the eye and tell you to "travel."  Now, I LOVE to travel... but I have never resented a person in a white coat SO much. 

Wait, no... that is not true.  Just after my 30th birthday I "re-cycled."  My GYN had moved out of town so I needed a new doctor anyway.  At this point, I had experienced fertility procedures, discovered yoga and acupuncture. I had read A LOT. I was pretty convinced our modern medical system left a lot to be desired. 

But, I wanted to talk to the doctor about doing basic lab work.  I had read that your body changes it's chemistry every 7 years. My basic exams were at least 8 years old. What would it hurt?  He agreed to those tests reluctantly and then explained to me that statistically; being married 10 years it was probably best if we didn't have children.  He told me that it had been too long.

MARRIED TOO LONG!!?? Alright, now I've heard it all.  I had thought of many reasons why this wasn't happening.  I don't know why, but married too long just never occurred to me!?!?! 

This white coat was insisting that we were too set in our ways at this point to be able to successfully "integrate a child into our lifestyle."  REALLY?!? I've got to give him credit. At least he was thinking outside of the box.

One week I had a half dozen doctor's appointments! It felt like waking up every other day to go have your "annual" exam. Ladies, you know what I mean by "annual."  It was a lot of white coats for this girl!  Their "treatments" failed. Their drugs turned me into a hormonal waste case.  I was miserable and I was making everyone around me miserable.  It occurred to me at the end of the fifth failed IUI that the only time I was so low was when we were going through these treatments.  When we were just living ~ I was happy; I was enjoying my time.  It ended right then and there for me. We had checked it off the list.

I always keep this in the back of my mind. Whatever I am doing, I'd better be enjoying my time. I have learned the importance to truly living in the moment. I don't want to waste one second being miserable ever again.  I give a lot of credit to the couples out there who can go endure even more of the process than we did.  They persevere and they are successful.

I think it is simply what is meant to be.

Hope In The Face of Absence

I’ve learned a few things about myself along the way.  I need a creative outlet or I get grumpy.   Yoga keeps me centered.  Running & kickboxing help me blow off steam. Piano quiets my brain.  

I am unsure if these are discoveries of self or simply coping mechanisms that I have used to blanket the fire. 

I have been given opportunities to explore & thrive.  Have I seized them or survived them?

Inside is this voice that whispers… it’s never enough.  Moment to moment; I expect too much.  I envy those that feel a calm in life’s pace. They live out their days cursing their own fate and yet their dreams all come true.  While I am here, still waiting for you.

This isn’t the kind of waiting most are used to.  Waiting in the line at the grocery store, waiting for your friend who is late for your lunch date, the doctor’s office; this waiting has its own misery but you know that eventually you will get your turn.  You may feel bored or annoyed but your faith is not tested.  This is much different.  This kind of waiting feels like you are looking down a deep dark tunnel in the path that is your life. There is no light beaming in from the other side.  You have no idea what to expect. You don’t even know the chances of coming out alive on the other side. You have two choices.  You can give up your faith, turn around and keep living just as you are without risking the darkness or you conger up all the hope that you can muster and you take your first step into that deep dark tunnel.  There is no reason to hope. No one has encouraged you that passing thru this tunnel will bring your dreams to reality.  That deep dark tunnel in my life represents my feelings regarding my fertility.

Hope. It’s easy at first. But it is the hardest thing to hold on to.  To keep hope alive you must be willing to risk constant disappointment.  When you can’t stand any more disappointment you move toward acceptance.  Just when you thought you found your own way around that tunnel it sneaks up on you… well, what can you hope for now?   Hope drives us.  It keeps us believing that there is something more for us out there. To me this feels like accepting that this is all my life will ever be.  I will never get the chance to see my own creation. I will never be able to see my husband hold our child. That hurts.

To fully accept your fate takes a courage so deep and faith so strong that you are able to truly let go. No more hoping and wishing. No more “maybe’s” and “some days. “ No more “hey, you never know.”  There are these stories that your friends tell you constantly. They think they are helping but really it’s just torture.  They say “oh, I knew someone who got pregnant right when they adopted!” or my personal favorite “I have friends that didn’t get pregnant for 10 years.”  That one is my favorite because I figured that would be us.  And here we are; we will be married for 12 years this September.

There is a new theory exposed every day it seems.  Could it be RX drugs, toxins or GMO’s?  Any one of these things could have taken my fertility away from me without even knowing it.  It leaves me wondering was it the ramen noodles in college? My shampoo? The laundry soap?  It could be ANYTHING! And yet, it could be NOTHING. I am in a constant struggle between hope and letting go. I wonder if one day I will be truly numb to it all.  Maybe that is what letting go is really all about. I’ve told myself that I am done and over it and yet I find myself squirming; back in its grips, anxious with my own reality; wanting my life to move on naturally. 

Maybe hope changes.  Instead of hoping for a certain future; I am hoping I am on the right path. I keep faith in my intuition. I am right exactly where I need to be.

 

 

 

 

Infertile Does Not Equal InCOMPLETE ~

A lot of comfort can be drawn from the written word. In writing there is a release, in the reading there is a connection. So, here I am.

Infertility is a disease. It affects 1 in every 10 couples. It is painful and if you aren't careful it CAN end up tearing you up from the inside out. But it doesn't have to be that way.

Not all of us are meant to be parents. You are not going to believe this... but not ALL women are put here to reproduce. Society has built this up for us as an expectation of our woman-hood. What are we worth as women if we cannot bear children? Well, I happen to think that I am worth a heck of a lot more than the viability of my uterus. I wish all women out there dealing with this issue could see themselves in that light; to see MORE.

There are some things in life that we can choose... our friends, our mates, movies, music and the like. At the heart of it... the reality of infertility is that it takes the choice of reproducing away from us. Sure, we can pursue medical procedures and adoption. There are still choices and options. We cannot "choose" to start a family... like some couples can.

And that is ok. Yes, I said it, It's OK.

It's OK if you can't have a baby. It's OK if the chlomid, hormone shots, IUI's and the IVF's don't work. It's ok if you can't seem to find an adoption match.

You know why?

You are MORE than your ability to reproduce. You STILL have a purpose here on this earth.

I had a very toxic friend who used to say to me "I just don't know how you deal with it; I wouldn't be able to get out of bed in the morning." It was her opinion that life just wouldn't be worth living if her uterus wouldn't cooperate with her. Why was mine worth living unless I could call myself a mother?

See here's the thing. We are not all on the same path. You may be meant to mother... I may not be. I may be meant to be a wife, an aunt, a volunteer, a mentor, a big sister. My life's path is all of these and more.

I used to say that money was the root of all evil, but now I believe that expectations are. Expectations create disappointment. Why can't we be grateful for our own life force? Accept the gifts that we are given upon this earth and make the best of it. We do not always have to bend fate to our will. There are times when acceptance is healing and it's important to be happy in the present moment, in your own circumstance. We are all given our battles for a reason. I truly believe that. Embrace them, accept them....... conquer them. Don't sacrifice today for an unknown tomorrow.

3/22/13