Our Journey to Parenthood

Over the past month I have felt a push to write about a major part of my life. Something that only our closest family and friends know about. I don’t know why I need to write this. Maybe for some peace for myself. Maybe to read in the future so that I can remember how far we’ve come. Maybe it has nothing to do with me, maybe it is for someone else to see that they are not alone.

I am posting this because unfortunately people feel like they have to be so hush hush about it. Kristofer and I have been dealing with infertility for almost 2.5 years. Whenever someone asks when we will have a child of our own, our knee jerk reaction is to respond “oh, whenever God blesses us.” Why can’t we come out and say that we are trying, but have had some complications? Is it the fear of pity, empty encouragement, or the difficulty in sharing our heartache?

I've had people say “oh just stop trying and it will happen”, and countless other statements like it. For the record, these encouragements won't make a difference for us and they don't bring comfort. However, in talking about our problems, I have come across other couples who are dealing with infertility as well. Unfortunately, there are more out there than you think. It is sad that we don’t talk about it more and there isn’t more of a support system. I hope this will change. Thankfully, God has placed a few women in my life who are walking the same path as us. It has been very encouraging and relieving to be able to say to someone "this sucks and I am miserable" and they know exactly what I’m talking about. They know. They are in the same shoes I am. It can be a breath of fresh air. This is not to say that someone who has not dealt with infertility cannot be encouraging or a breath of fresh air, because that is not the case. I have had plenty of friends with their kids all around them comfort me and love on me.

I guess what I am trying to say is, we shouldn’t be ashamed of our medical problems. We are not the only ones dealing with these things and if we speak up about it, we may be able to help someone or find someone who can help and encourage us personally.

This has been our journey to parenthood so far.

To date, Kristofer and I have been trying to have a child for almost two and a half years. We started trying at the beginning of March 2012 - just a month and a half after we got married.

Growing up, I always had a strong desire to be a wife and a mother. My dream had come true; I was finally a wife at the young age of 26 (a few days shy of turning 27). Now it was time for us to work on becoming parents. I had always imagined that I would already be surrounded by my own children at this point in my life. Instead, my life continues to be surrounded by other people's children. I guess that is partially my own doing being a nanny and all.

Still, we were ready for the role of becoming parents. Well, at least I was. Kristofer was a bit reluctant at first, but he trusted my desires and in my faith that he would be a fantastic father. As the days, months and years have dragged on, Kristofer is ready to have a family. The only thing holding us back from our dreams is me.

In April 2013, I had my yearly check up with my gynecologist. The year prior I had mentioned that we were starting to try. My doctor advised me to give it 18 months and if we still had no luck we would start to investigate. After 12 months I was ready to find out what the problem was.

I have always been irregular in my cycles, but as I grew older they started to spread out even more. I averaged 2-3 periods a year. After talking with my doctor and looking at my symptoms (irregular periods, overweight, infertility) my doctor ordered for me to have an abdominal and transvaginal ultrasound. He suspected that I had PCOS. I immediately scheduled my ultrasound - I needed answers and prayed PCOS wasn’t the case.

I remember going to the ultrasound. I was nervous with an extremely full bladder. Turns out my bladder was actually too full and I had to empty it in order for the technician to get the proper abdominal scans - I was thankful for that. As I laid there on the table I tried to gauge the technician's expressions. Has she found something bad? Why is she lingering in that one area? Of course, I was unable to read her. Instead I lay there on my back and with my arms under my head looking at the ceiling. Praying. Praying for an answer. Praying for an easy fix. Praying for my future child.

I left my appointment and went back to work (my nanny job). Now, I wait. A few days later I got the call from my doctor while I was working. I only had my 2-year old that day, my 5-year old was off at school. We were alone and thankfully my 2-year old was focused on his toys. I sit in the corner of the room where it is a little more quiet so I can hear every word the doctor says. It is confirmed, I have PCOS. My heart breaks. I know this is not an "end of the world"-diagnosis, but this was devastating news for a woman who has been dreaming of being a mother since she was 15. I put my 2-year old down for his scheduled nap, I called Kristofer and wept. I then pulled myself together the best I could - I had to get through the rest of my work day. I remember that day was filled with mini breakdowns. My sweet 2-year old would come and hug me and ask me to play with him. Of course, I proceeded to play with him and his tonka trucks for the rest of the afternoon.

My doctor referred me to an infertility specialist. This was now May and I called the specialist's office, but they couldn’t get me in for an appointment until the end of October. I was crushed. Yet another obstacle that I was not prepared for. I called my doctor feeling lost and alone. He offered to help get me through some infertility treatments until I felt it was time to see a specialist.

In May I started Provera. We had to induce a period so I could actually have an opportunity to ovulate, something vital to creating a baby, yet something uncommon for me due to my PCOS. After I started my cycle I started taking Clomid. The first month I was hopeful; I was praying and begging God to allow me to get pregnant. I felt like this was my first real opportunity to conceive after a year of trying. I was so full of hope. I was taking ovulation tests daily. Then I finally got my little smiley face indicating I was ovulating. Every twinge, every weird feeling during that two-week wait, I hoped it was a result of a baby growing inside of me. Finally, it was time to test. Negative. My heart was crushed once again. This went on for 4 more months.

During this time we had Kristofer tested. We needed to see if there were any other reasons that could be preventing us from having a child. He was healthy, meaning it seemed to be all on me. It’s awful to admit, but there was a very small part of me that had hoped there would be something slightly wrong with him. Then it wouldn’t solely be me that was preventing him from being a father - it would be a group effort. Instead, I felt guilty. I felt damaged. I would be lying if I said I didn’t still feel that way from time to time.

We decided that it was time to fork over the money and go see an infertility specialist. Our consult was on November 27, 2013, the day before Thanksgiving. I spent $300 to have a doctor tell me I was overweight, which I already knew and was in part due to the PCOS. I had hoped that he would tell me that I would be pregnant by the end of the year, but instead I heard “you’re fat, you should stop trying to have a baby, and I won’t help you until you lose weight.” Again, I was crushed. My self esteem was already low and now it was shot. The doctor set up a plan for Kristofer and I. I would lose some weight and in February we would test to see if my fallopian tubes were clear. If all was good, we would start the process for IUI in April.

I remember walking out to the car with Kristofer after my appointment. It was a cloudy and rainy day; a perfect day for how I felt. I remember walking through the waiting room, doing my best to hold it together. The moment we arrived at the car I lost it, falling into Kristofer’s arms. I no longer cared who was around, I no longer cared if people saw me crying. I was crushed, broken hearted, but thankful to be in the arms of my love.

Kristofer got in his car and headed to work. I got in my car and headed home. I sobbed. I know, not the safest thing for driving, but I needed to get home. I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. I remember calculating the timeframe until I would have a child as I was driving home. It was then that I realized I would not have a child until 2015... if I was lucky. That meant another year, another Mother’s Day, another Father’s Day, another year that we would not be parents. More heartbreak. I decided to try my best and enjoy my holiday weekend with my family. Baking and cooking, shopping and eating junk. Come Sunday, I would make my decision about what I would do.

On December 1 I made a lifestyle change and started really watching what I ate, counting every calorie I put in my body. I even started working out, although that didn’t last long. I did however manage to stay committed to losing weight. After all, I now had a fantastic motivation: my sweet precious future child. To this date I have lost 43 pounds. I still have a ways to go until I reach my goal weight, but there has been progress. I’m even going to the gym five days a week.

While talking with Kristofer, we (I) decided that I would focus on my weight loss. After all, being overweight and pregnant puts me at a higher risk for gestational diabetes. That alone is too big of a risk considering PCOS can be a stepping stone to diabetes, something that I do not want to endure. I also started using essential oils, praying that the natural way would help.

On June 24, 2014 I had my yearly check-up. This time with a new gynecologist, as mine had recently retired. I went to my doctor's appointment and told him everything that had gone on. We made a plan. We would induce a period because I hadn’t had one since January, and then I would have another transvaginal ultrasound on day 3 of my cycle, followed by a hysterosalpingogram (HSG) on day 9 of my cycle to check my fallopian tubes. After all these tests and assuming the results were good, we would start Clomid again at a higher dose on my following cycle. We would then try that for 3-6 months. If we were unsuccessful, we would then start the process for IUI.

I went home from my appointment hopeful. They called in my prescription, but at last I wouldn’t need it. I started my period the very next day all on my own! I give credit to the essential oils. That was a blessing. So I called the doctor and scheduled my ultrasound. That following Friday I went in for my ultrasound. Surprisingly, later that afternoon I got a call saying the doctor received the results. My lining was apparently way too thick. They thought that I may have hyperplasia and I would have to come back in for a biopsy. We scheduled the biopsy for the following Tuesday.

I was nervous going into the office. I had read about the procedure online and that doesn’t always help. The biopsy was painful. I felt like the doctor took a wire-brush and swirled it around my uterus for 10 seconds. The cramping was incredibly painful. Perhaps this was a very small taste of what labor would feel like? Am I sure that’s what I want? Of course I wanted it, because instead of going home with a painful uterus, I would be going home with a painful uterus and a baby in my arms. Maybe one day.

Due to the July 4th weekend I wouldn’t receive the biopsy results until the following Monday. The doctor didn’t really seem to worried about the results, which put me slightly at ease. He even said that I could move forward with the HSG. I called the hospital to schedule my appointment. At first they said they didn’t have anything available. Because I would be on day 9 of my cycle that Thursday, I would be out for this month and would have to wait until next month to have the procedure done. The scheduler heard the disappointment in my voice. He told me to hold. I waited, praying that they would be able to squeeze me in. He picked up the phone and said that he had an opening for 3pm on Thursday, the exact day that I needed to have the test done. I said I’d take it. Thank you God!

That Thursday I was anxious and nervous - terrified of what they would find. I prayed. I put on my calming essential oils and went to my appointment. The technician was a lovely woman who instantly made me feel comfortable and helped me relax. She kept the conversation going as we waited for the doctor who would perform the HSG (not my gyn), which helped calm my nerves. She explained every step of the procedure. Even though I had already read every detail online, it was good to hear everything again. For the fourth time in a little over a week I lay on a table with a drape over my legs. Exposed and vulnerable, all for the sake of having a child of my own.

There were all sorts of emotions that went over me as I lay on that table. Fear, hope, sorrow, desperation. I heard the doctor and the technician talking. I heard a mention of “ok, I see that one, but I don’t see anything there.” My heart sank, tears began to roll down my cheeks. There was something wrong. My heart was breaking yet again. The doctor then pushed more fluids followed by, “there it goes.” A moment of relief. The procedure was done and I continued to lay there. The doctor came and stood by my head and said that it will take him a day or two to review the results. He was concerned with my left tube but it did begin to flow and the right tube flowed fine. I was still a bit confused, but after he left the technician assured me that all was well. Both of my tubes were open and good. Tears of joy began to stream down my face. Relief rolled over me. I felt myself finally relax, I could finally breath again. I was fine. There were no added obstacles in our way.

I got dressed and headed out of the hospital, excited to call Kristofer and tell him the good news. He was in a meeting, so unfortunately I had to wait for him to call me back. As I was halfway home, he called. I told him the good news: both of my tubes were open. We both cried tears of joy. We praised God that our prayers had been answered. We were so thankful, so joyful, and so happy. When Kristofer got home from work that evening, we just held each other. We were both so happy. We went about our long holiday weekend happy and relieved. I was actually able to relax.

Monday came along and I called the doctor's office in order to find out my biopsy results. The front desk girl told me they were negative (after getting permission from the nurse to share the news). Fantastic! I don’t have cancer or any precancerous cells. Praise God. The front desk girl mentioned my HSG results, whereas I quickly told her that I already knew that both of my tubes were opened and we were all good. She said the nurse would be calling me later to give me more details. I didn’t think anything of it.

About an hour later I received the call from the nurse (my doctor was on vacation). She started by saying that my biopsy was negative. She then asked “who told you that your tubes were open?” My heart sank. At that moment I knew what she was about to say. I was given the wrong information, the technician was wrong and should never had said anything. Both of my tubes are in fact blocked.

Heartbreak. Devastation. Anger. Fear. Sadness. So much sadness. How could this happen? Why did this happen? Why were Kristofer and I allowed to have such joy and celebration, all to have it taken away? The nurse continues talking. I realize that I am way too emotional and that I need to start taking notes about what she is saying. I have two options. I can do laparoscopic surgery in hopes that the doctor can clear the blockage and clean up any possible endometriosis, or we can just move straight to IVF.

IVF. I.V.F. My heart sinks. How will we ever afford IVF? How long will it take for us to get the money together to even have the procedure done? Will it even work the first time? Will I ever carry a child?

On July 24 my doctor performed a laparoscopy and a D&C to clean out my thick lining. I was so nervous going into surgery. When I first opened my eyes after surgery it took a few seconds for me to realize where I was and what just happened. I remember being so tired, but forcing myself to open my eyes so I could wake up and find out the results. My doctor eventually came over to my bedside. Since I was still in phase one of recovery, Kristofer was not allowed to be back with me.

My doctor started out by saying he had good news and bad news. He said everything looked healthy and that my uterus looked good. The bad news is that he was unable to clear the blockage in my tubes. Unable to control my emotions, I lost it. Aside from a miracle by God, IVF is now our only option for having a biological child. The nurses quickly gathered around me to offer comfort and tissues as another nurse ran to fetch Kristofer. I will never forget that moment when Kristofer came to my side. Such heartbreak, such love.

This is truly an emotional roller-coaster ride that I never asked to get on and one that I would love to get off. It is not easy. It is not easy seeing others around you become pregnant, have their baby, and then get pregnant again. All while I’m still here childless. My arms are empty. There is a piece of me that is missing. My sweet baby. The one that I dream about. Curly brown hair, bright blue eyes, curled eyelashes like daddy. I know God will give us our child eventually. It is the in between that hurts. It is hard, it is ugly, but I know that it will be worth it in the end. I have to remind myself that no matter how many steps we take backwards, no matter how many times we get knocked down, we must get up and continue walking forward and fight.

We are now on the path for IVF. We are not sure when we will be able to start the process or how long it will take us to gather the money in order to pay for the procedure. Only time will tell.

I constantly have to remind myself to remain faithful and hopeful. In my moments of weakness, my God carries me. In my moments of sorrow He comforts me. This is our life and this is our story... so far.

I recently came across the verse below and it struck home:

"Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

This is God's will for me and for us. We must rejoice and pray. We must give thanks because this is His will for our lives! Whether we like it or not, God has a plan. He knows what He is doing and we are clinging to that truth.