Wow.
I suddenly feel quite honored to be apart of this group of awesome women. It feels like somehow I have passed a test and have been officially inducted into the Infertility Hall of Fame. Seems kind of ironic, doesn't it? Ironic that I am actually happy about it. I mean, honestly, who would will themselves to be in our boat? But at the same time I have to admit that being asked to be an author on this blog makes me feel like I've made it to some kind of major marker point in this marathon. I'm sure I have a long way to go still, but it's nice to be to a point where I can look back and see the bigger picture.
Most of you know me, except for Fiona, but let's make this induction official by spilling the juicy details. Spencer and I met out at BYU-Idaho in 2003 and we have been happily married now for about 4 and a half years. We officially started trying to get pregnant a little bit before our 2nd Anniversary back in September of 2006. I remember that first month being sooo devastated when my period came, late of course. I had no idea I would have to endure that month after month after month only to find out in February of 2008 that we have been dealt the male-factor infertility card.
We were living in Virginia at the time and had initiated visits to a referred infertility doctor, which that's another post in and of itself, but suffice it to say it added additional emotional scarring to my already wounded heart. A couple of months later in April we felt impressed to just up and leave Virginia and move to Georgia (where I am from and my family still resides). So we did! We didn't make that decision lightly...obviously, Spencer was quitting his job to go somewhere he didn't currently have one. And unfortunately, we also left behind the blessing of insurance that covered IVF, our one hope. All I could do was pray and trust in what I knew I was being asked to do by Heavenly Father. We are settled now and Spencer has a good job and we were so excited to get to buy our first house! It somehow felt like a step toward our goal of expanding our family to finally have a place to call home. But alas, no insurance benefits toward anything to do with infertility. And honestly, as we've prayed about it all, we never have felt impressed to do anything about it but just wait. So we wait.
Waiting is never the most desirable option when you want something so bad it hurts. But like every trial in our lives, I have learned so much from it. I am 10x more patient than I ever imagined I could be...not just patient with life, but patient with other people, sympathetic to all kinds of life situations and heartache, patient with myself and my own imperfections...I've learned to accept when I just can't quite measure up and to call upon the Savior for help. I've definitely learned what it truly means to turn something over to Him and to trust Him. I have somehow, through this constant crushing desire for a baby, been crammed with an exploding amount of love for children. Not just love, but again patience...And that's necessary when you teach thirteen 5 year-olds in Primary {LoVe it!}. I've learned to be grateful for this time I've been given all to myself. It really has been a blessing to me. I've realized that I am unique and special...we all are...because of this situation we have been put in. We have not been put on the typical timeline that happens to most people in our LDS culture. We have been set aside as examples through our trials. I want to be found faithful to what I know to be true no matter what is thrown my way, just as Job of the Old Testament was. I'm grateful to you, my fellow Hall of Famers, because you have been my examples. Yes...I am definitely proud to now have my name up in that top right hand corner list next to yours!
Friday, March 6, 2009
It Gets Worse
I was already upset over proposed legislation in Georgia to limit the number of embryos that can be transferred per IVF cycle. Now, having done a little more research (including reading the actual bill itself) I am beyond horrified.
The bill calls for limits on number of embryos transferred (two for a woman under the age of forty), but it doesn't stop there. It limits the number of eggs that can even be fertilized per cycle to the number of embryos to be transferred; in other words, only two eggs can be fertilized per cycle because only two embryos can be transferred!
The terror this strikes in my little heart is beyond expression.
There are so many problems with this. For starters, as anyone who has ever done IVF knows, number of eggs does not equal number of embryos. Not all eggs fertilize, and not all resulting embryos survive to even be transferred. If the number of embryos that could be made was limited, this would severely impact chances of a pregnancy.
This would also eliminate cryopreservation as an option. If only two eggs can be fertilized per cycle, obviously there would be no embryos left over for later use. This sounds like something out of a horror film. As someone who has done two fresh embryo transfers and one frozen embryo transfer I can say that the frozen embryo transfer was about a million times easier - no painful ovarian stimulation, no surgery, no recovery. To tell someone that she will not have the option of doing IVF again without starting at the beginning and having needles jammed into her ovaries, when she might have been able to have embryos frozen originally, is criminal. And expensive. To repeat the whole process would be another $10,000+ (often not covered by insurance), while using frozen embryos would be a fraction of that cost.
The good Senator is trying to prevent destruction of embryos, championing his cause as pro-life. Well, Senator, you can bite me. I am staunchly pro-life, and believe that embryos are the beginning of life. But telling me I can't create more embryos to use at a later time because of the possibility they might end up destroyed? That's ridiculous!
Yes, some embryos do end up being destroyed - but any embryo that is healthy and growing is either used or preserved. Only embryos with problems are destroyed, because they would not survive or not result in a pregnancy anyway (a process the human body takes care of in a natural pregnancy through miscarriage or the embryo not implanting in the first place). I know that some parents choose to destroy their remaining embryos once they feel their family is complete, but that is not cause to stop the creation of extra embryos altogether.
The bill also states that embryos created through the IVF process are the property of no one, and deserve to be protected. Excuse me, but my embryos = my property, and I will do with them as I see fit.
I do hesitate to say that the government should stay out of all reproductive issues because I believe abortion should be regulated, and only allowed in very rare situations, but in this case, the government should back off.
This is not a pro-life cause. It is an anti-life cause. Fewer women will become mothers if this legislation passes. And that's a situation where a lot of people lose.
The bill calls for limits on number of embryos transferred (two for a woman under the age of forty), but it doesn't stop there. It limits the number of eggs that can even be fertilized per cycle to the number of embryos to be transferred; in other words, only two eggs can be fertilized per cycle because only two embryos can be transferred!
The terror this strikes in my little heart is beyond expression.
There are so many problems with this. For starters, as anyone who has ever done IVF knows, number of eggs does not equal number of embryos. Not all eggs fertilize, and not all resulting embryos survive to even be transferred. If the number of embryos that could be made was limited, this would severely impact chances of a pregnancy.
This would also eliminate cryopreservation as an option. If only two eggs can be fertilized per cycle, obviously there would be no embryos left over for later use. This sounds like something out of a horror film. As someone who has done two fresh embryo transfers and one frozen embryo transfer I can say that the frozen embryo transfer was about a million times easier - no painful ovarian stimulation, no surgery, no recovery. To tell someone that she will not have the option of doing IVF again without starting at the beginning and having needles jammed into her ovaries, when she might have been able to have embryos frozen originally, is criminal. And expensive. To repeat the whole process would be another $10,000+ (often not covered by insurance), while using frozen embryos would be a fraction of that cost.
The good Senator is trying to prevent destruction of embryos, championing his cause as pro-life. Well, Senator, you can bite me. I am staunchly pro-life, and believe that embryos are the beginning of life. But telling me I can't create more embryos to use at a later time because of the possibility they might end up destroyed? That's ridiculous!
Yes, some embryos do end up being destroyed - but any embryo that is healthy and growing is either used or preserved. Only embryos with problems are destroyed, because they would not survive or not result in a pregnancy anyway (a process the human body takes care of in a natural pregnancy through miscarriage or the embryo not implanting in the first place). I know that some parents choose to destroy their remaining embryos once they feel their family is complete, but that is not cause to stop the creation of extra embryos altogether.
The bill also states that embryos created through the IVF process are the property of no one, and deserve to be protected. Excuse me, but my embryos = my property, and I will do with them as I see fit.
I do hesitate to say that the government should stay out of all reproductive issues because I believe abortion should be regulated, and only allowed in very rare situations, but in this case, the government should back off.
This is not a pro-life cause. It is an anti-life cause. Fewer women will become mothers if this legislation passes. And that's a situation where a lot of people lose.
yep...THAT time of the month
Well, Bonnie, now that you've threatened future death to this poor blog, I feel strangely impelled to post... haha!
I got my period yesterday. Yippee. Now, after "welcoming" it back 7 months after Bran and Nuala were born (isn't that soon? especially when nursing twins?? it seemed too soon to me. Heck, anytime would be too soon...), I didn't really think much of it, except to bemoan the annoyance. You all remember how it WAS...back before we knew how difficult/impossible it would be to have children the good old-fashioned fun way...every period in the timeframe between giddily and nervously deciding to start trying, and then getting the news from the doc that, "Hey! There's a REASON you aren't blissfully blossoming into mommyhood!" was met with disappointment, frustration, and, quite often, tears. And most likely loads of chocolate. At least in my case and I'm pretty sure in Bonnie's case, too... And don't even get me started on when it would have the nerve to be late. Sheesh.
At least after finding out we'd need loads of help to actually get pregnant, my hopes didn't get as high each month. Of course, they still crashed and burned, no matter the height, and, sure, it was a monthly reminder of our infertility, but whatever. At least it was just a fall from a 20-story building, not the Eiffel Tower.
But after N&B came along, the emotional pain of the monthly "not pregnant" indicator faded. Not faded. Flat-out disappeared. Small babies seem to satisfy the aching desire for small babies. Weird, huh? Once they hit about 18 months or so, though, I started taking notice of my monthly visitor. Still not despairingly so, but a small voice inside me would say, "hmmm, wouldn't it be so cool IF..." and a teeny little part of me would get my hopes up that this would be the month that our miracle of surprise pregnancy would come. And I never expected that to happen, and I wasn't sad or disappointed when my period would finally arrive, but there was always that little, quiet hope.
We had been semi-planning to do a cycle of IVF this month, in which case I would have called the doc yesterday, with the arrival of my dear, dear friend (said oh-so-sarcastically) and arranged to begin. Wow. BUT, we aren't. We have to get some other things in order, and my husband will be out of town for a bit this month, and the in-laws are visiting, so we're holding off. In April, hubby will be gone for a big chunk, and honestly, everything that IVF entails, plus having two 2-year olds, will just go much better if he's around. So May. Lookin' at May, here.
But starting all this up again just made that little hope that rustles around each month all that more...rustly. I couldn't help but think: surely THIS is the time for our surprise to happen! That's what you hear about! The couple about to embark on a cycle, or begin the adoption process, and WHAM! Pregnant!
Dang it.
Do you think that little hope ever goes away? Do you think fertile women experience that, as well? I mean, I know every woman trying to get pregnant (even the ones with 8 kids already who always test positive EARLY on their first month of trying) will be counting the days until she should start, and harboring the hope that the timing this month was spot-on, but do you think that women who have no trouble getting pregnant but aren't actually trying to do so in that particular cycle approach their impending period due-date with that tiny little seed of hope? Is it just something that's inborn? I think so.
Thinking back to the time before we knew about our infertility and before we were trying to get pregnant, even though I didn't necessarily want to be pregnant, I remember thinking -- not thinking, it wasn't that conscious or acknowledged -- just feeling a little twinge of excitement, sometimes terrified excitement, but yes, excitement at the possibility that there could be a little life burrowing into mine.
That's the word: Possibility...potential. That's what each new period represents. Not necessarily just the possibility lost, but the next one coming up, too.
So, pass the tampons, the circle of (in)fertility begins anew.
(Apologies for the rambly nature of this post...I'll use the "it's that time of the month" excuse, please.)
I got my period yesterday. Yippee. Now, after "welcoming" it back 7 months after Bran and Nuala were born (isn't that soon? especially when nursing twins?? it seemed too soon to me. Heck, anytime would be too soon...), I didn't really think much of it, except to bemoan the annoyance. You all remember how it WAS...back before we knew how difficult/impossible it would be to have children the good old-fashioned fun way...every period in the timeframe between giddily and nervously deciding to start trying, and then getting the news from the doc that, "Hey! There's a REASON you aren't blissfully blossoming into mommyhood!" was met with disappointment, frustration, and, quite often, tears. And most likely loads of chocolate. At least in my case and I'm pretty sure in Bonnie's case, too... And don't even get me started on when it would have the nerve to be late. Sheesh.
At least after finding out we'd need loads of help to actually get pregnant, my hopes didn't get as high each month. Of course, they still crashed and burned, no matter the height, and, sure, it was a monthly reminder of our infertility, but whatever. At least it was just a fall from a 20-story building, not the Eiffel Tower.
But after N&B came along, the emotional pain of the monthly "not pregnant" indicator faded. Not faded. Flat-out disappeared. Small babies seem to satisfy the aching desire for small babies. Weird, huh? Once they hit about 18 months or so, though, I started taking notice of my monthly visitor. Still not despairingly so, but a small voice inside me would say, "hmmm, wouldn't it be so cool IF..." and a teeny little part of me would get my hopes up that this would be the month that our miracle of surprise pregnancy would come. And I never expected that to happen, and I wasn't sad or disappointed when my period would finally arrive, but there was always that little, quiet hope.
We had been semi-planning to do a cycle of IVF this month, in which case I would have called the doc yesterday, with the arrival of my dear, dear friend (said oh-so-sarcastically) and arranged to begin. Wow. BUT, we aren't. We have to get some other things in order, and my husband will be out of town for a bit this month, and the in-laws are visiting, so we're holding off. In April, hubby will be gone for a big chunk, and honestly, everything that IVF entails, plus having two 2-year olds, will just go much better if he's around. So May. Lookin' at May, here.
But starting all this up again just made that little hope that rustles around each month all that more...rustly. I couldn't help but think: surely THIS is the time for our surprise to happen! That's what you hear about! The couple about to embark on a cycle, or begin the adoption process, and WHAM! Pregnant!
Dang it.
Do you think that little hope ever goes away? Do you think fertile women experience that, as well? I mean, I know every woman trying to get pregnant (even the ones with 8 kids already who always test positive EARLY on their first month of trying) will be counting the days until she should start, and harboring the hope that the timing this month was spot-on, but do you think that women who have no trouble getting pregnant but aren't actually trying to do so in that particular cycle approach their impending period due-date with that tiny little seed of hope? Is it just something that's inborn? I think so.
Thinking back to the time before we knew about our infertility and before we were trying to get pregnant, even though I didn't necessarily want to be pregnant, I remember thinking -- not thinking, it wasn't that conscious or acknowledged -- just feeling a little twinge of excitement, sometimes terrified excitement, but yes, excitement at the possibility that there could be a little life burrowing into mine.
That's the word: Possibility...potential. That's what each new period represents. Not necessarily just the possibility lost, but the next one coming up, too.
So, pass the tampons, the circle of (in)fertility begins anew.
(Apologies for the rambly nature of this post...I'll use the "it's that time of the month" excuse, please.)
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Thank You Nadya Suleman
Okay, I consider deleting the blog, and then here I am blogging two days in a row! Ha ha. (I can't help it that there is a whole bunch of infertility stuff in the news lately, thanks to Nadya Suleman).
The latest? Legislation to limit the number of embryos transferred per IVF cycle. In Missouri and Georgia, the proposed legislation is intended to keep women from having more children than they can afford. (And yet the crack addicts can have all the babies they want - go figure).
This really worries me. For one thing, the last thing we want the government involved in is limiting family size. For another, this type of legislation makes no allowances for individual patient circumstances. What about a woman who has had seven failed IVF cycles, and yet still falls in the under 40 age group? Should she be unable to have more than two embryos transferred simply because some clueless lawmaker stuck his interfering little hands into the assisted reproduction business?
In a poll accompanying the article, 68% of respondents say that the government should absolutely step in and regulate the fertility business. Only 28% say no way. I'm willing to bet that nearly 100% of those in favor of limiting embryo transfers have never dealt with infertility and don't know a thing about an IVF cycle. They just hear horror stories like the Octomom and think that sort of thing is happening all over the place.
The fact is that most doctors are not egregiously violating the standards set forth by the American Society for Reproductive Medicine. They may not stick to the "no more than two embryos for a patient under 35" suggestion, but that's because it's a suggestion, and allows doctors to tailor treatment for individual patients. Transferring more than two embryos is not an ethics violation. It means doctors are working with their patients on a case by case basis, trying to get the best outcome, and sometimes that means transferring more than two embryos.
I find it interesting that none of the media is willing to point out that a successful IVF cycle is considered to be one baby. While fertility treatment centers may be satisfied with a twin outcome (and probably so would any infertile person), they hope for and celebrate singletons. That is the goal - one healthy baby. Doctors do not want cases of high order multiples. It's dangerous for their patients and reflects poorly on their judgement. You might say it's bad for business.
But some women need more than two embryos to get to the single baby outcome. Having had two failed IVF cycles myself, I don't want the government telling me I can't have three embryos transferred if that's what my doctor and I decide is best, simply because of my age.
It infuriates me that one stupid, irresponsible person can ruin things for the rest of us. Most IVF patients are responsible people who pay their bills, pay for their fertility treatments, and pay for their children after they are born. And most doctors are doing the best they can to help their patients - and that means they are not transferring more embryos than are absolutely necessary.
The government should keep its little paws off the fertility industry. (If they must interfere they need to at least make allowances for individual patient circumstances). It's not a good thing to have legislators messing with something they do not understand, just because everyone is up in arms over one mentally unstable woman.
Gee, thanks, Nadya. You've been a great help.
The latest? Legislation to limit the number of embryos transferred per IVF cycle. In Missouri and Georgia, the proposed legislation is intended to keep women from having more children than they can afford. (And yet the crack addicts can have all the babies they want - go figure).
This really worries me. For one thing, the last thing we want the government involved in is limiting family size. For another, this type of legislation makes no allowances for individual patient circumstances. What about a woman who has had seven failed IVF cycles, and yet still falls in the under 40 age group? Should she be unable to have more than two embryos transferred simply because some clueless lawmaker stuck his interfering little hands into the assisted reproduction business?
In a poll accompanying the article, 68% of respondents say that the government should absolutely step in and regulate the fertility business. Only 28% say no way. I'm willing to bet that nearly 100% of those in favor of limiting embryo transfers have never dealt with infertility and don't know a thing about an IVF cycle. They just hear horror stories like the Octomom and think that sort of thing is happening all over the place.
The fact is that most doctors are not egregiously violating the standards set forth by the American Society for Reproductive Medicine. They may not stick to the "no more than two embryos for a patient under 35" suggestion, but that's because it's a suggestion, and allows doctors to tailor treatment for individual patients. Transferring more than two embryos is not an ethics violation. It means doctors are working with their patients on a case by case basis, trying to get the best outcome, and sometimes that means transferring more than two embryos.
I find it interesting that none of the media is willing to point out that a successful IVF cycle is considered to be one baby. While fertility treatment centers may be satisfied with a twin outcome (and probably so would any infertile person), they hope for and celebrate singletons. That is the goal - one healthy baby. Doctors do not want cases of high order multiples. It's dangerous for their patients and reflects poorly on their judgement. You might say it's bad for business.
But some women need more than two embryos to get to the single baby outcome. Having had two failed IVF cycles myself, I don't want the government telling me I can't have three embryos transferred if that's what my doctor and I decide is best, simply because of my age.
It infuriates me that one stupid, irresponsible person can ruin things for the rest of us. Most IVF patients are responsible people who pay their bills, pay for their fertility treatments, and pay for their children after they are born. And most doctors are doing the best they can to help their patients - and that means they are not transferring more embryos than are absolutely necessary.
The government should keep its little paws off the fertility industry. (If they must interfere they need to at least make allowances for individual patient circumstances). It's not a good thing to have legislators messing with something they do not understand, just because everyone is up in arms over one mentally unstable woman.
Gee, thanks, Nadya. You've been a great help.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
New Addition!
We have a new author joining our group! I will let her introduce herself, but I know she will be a fun addition to our team. We look forward to your insights on the weird world of infertility, Amy! Welcome!
Stay of Execution
Well, the blog has gotten a reprieve and will not be deleted in the near future. Thanks, everyone for your comments. In honor of the occasion, I will do something shocking and write a new post!
I was reading an article in Newsweek yesterday about a doctor who works to help women through their high-order-multiple pregnancies, and couldn't resist scrolling through the 100+ comments at the end of the article. I must say, I was rather shocked. Not at people disagreeing with infamous "Octomom", Nadya Suleman's, actions (I agree that her behavior was abhorrent, and the doctor who performed the IVF procedure on her should lose his medical license), but at the dozens of people who had horrible things to say about fertility treatment in general. You wouldn't believe the number of people who had nasty things to say.
Some highlights:
"Given the current state of world affairs, and the current economic crisis and the risks of global warming, I think it is terribly selfish for any one to have children and it is tantamount to child abuse to give birth to one child, let alone multiple children."
In case you were wondering if the devil was working overtime at destroying the family... Honestly, child abuse to have a baby? Parenthood is terribly selfish? What?! Being a parent is having the selfishness beat out of you one stroke at a time, day after day. It is impossible to be selfish when you have to put the needs of someone else above yours nearly every minute of every day, especially when that someone is small, helpless, and completely dependent on you for everything.
"Naturally these couples are infertal for a reason, religiously God has rendered them barren for His own reason, morally there is a reason childless couples should adopt, and ethically there is a reason good society should step in and stop all of these insane, and un-natural procedures, and treatments, including invetro fertilization."
Yes, perhaps he has "rendered them barren" to teach them patience, sympathy, compassion, love, and that they must pray, fast, and do everything within their power to show their desire to become parents. Knowing, as we do, that the commandment to multiply and replenish the earth remains in force, I have no qualms whatsoever about having my own biological children.
"IVF shouldn't be an option as long as there are kids without homes."
How about sex - should sex be allowed as long as there are kids without homes? Because there are a whole lot of people having kids the normal way, without even meaning to get pregnant, simply as a consequence of having sex.
"I'm infertile and I agree with the other posters who mention adoption. There's a difference between wanting to be a parent and wanting to reproduce. One is selfless and the other is selfish."
Um, excuse me, but there is NOTHING selfish about choosing fertility treatment over adoption. Yes, there are kids who need homes, but all the bureaucratic red tape, years of waiting, exorbitant cost, and lack of infants available make it next to impossible to adopt. And you always run the risk of some good-for-nothing biological parent coming back in a few years and convincing the courts to yank your child out of your life. (And do the self-righteous do-gooders who insist that adoption is the only choice have a house full of special-needs foster kids themselves? Didn't think so.)
"How long does it take for a woman who believes in God to realize He's said NO? God doesn't always say yes."
Yes, you are right. God doesn't always say yes. But a "no" from God isn't necessarily permanent - it may mean "not right now", "not this way" or "do everything you can do first". And it's sort of handy to have personal revelation, direct from God, telling you when and how to go about having a family.
"if you're infertile, clearly "god's plan" didn't include you getting pregnant organically! have you not heard of adoption??"
Just one question - does this commenter wear glasses? Because if so, she should stop right now. Clearly God's plan did not include her being able to steer clear of walls and moving vehicles. Or has she ever taken tylenol for a headache? Or used medication to control her diabetes? Or put a broken foot in a cast? I could go on and on. This argument is simply ridiculous.
All right, my blood pressure is now through the roof, and I'm inches from punching my computer screen, so I guess that means enough comments.
Clearly, these people need to get over themselves. And they could use a few lessons on the plan of salvation and the importance of families.
Thank heaven for the restored gospel. And thank heaven for fertility treatments.
I was reading an article in Newsweek yesterday about a doctor who works to help women through their high-order-multiple pregnancies, and couldn't resist scrolling through the 100+ comments at the end of the article. I must say, I was rather shocked. Not at people disagreeing with infamous "Octomom", Nadya Suleman's, actions (I agree that her behavior was abhorrent, and the doctor who performed the IVF procedure on her should lose his medical license), but at the dozens of people who had horrible things to say about fertility treatment in general. You wouldn't believe the number of people who had nasty things to say.
Some highlights:
"Given the current state of world affairs, and the current economic crisis and the risks of global warming, I think it is terribly selfish for any one to have children and it is tantamount to child abuse to give birth to one child, let alone multiple children."
In case you were wondering if the devil was working overtime at destroying the family... Honestly, child abuse to have a baby? Parenthood is terribly selfish? What?! Being a parent is having the selfishness beat out of you one stroke at a time, day after day. It is impossible to be selfish when you have to put the needs of someone else above yours nearly every minute of every day, especially when that someone is small, helpless, and completely dependent on you for everything.
"Naturally these couples are infertal for a reason, religiously God has rendered them barren for His own reason, morally there is a reason childless couples should adopt, and ethically there is a reason good society should step in and stop all of these insane, and un-natural procedures, and treatments, including invetro fertilization."
Yes, perhaps he has "rendered them barren" to teach them patience, sympathy, compassion, love, and that they must pray, fast, and do everything within their power to show their desire to become parents. Knowing, as we do, that the commandment to multiply and replenish the earth remains in force, I have no qualms whatsoever about having my own biological children.
"IVF shouldn't be an option as long as there are kids without homes."
How about sex - should sex be allowed as long as there are kids without homes? Because there are a whole lot of people having kids the normal way, without even meaning to get pregnant, simply as a consequence of having sex.
"I'm infertile and I agree with the other posters who mention adoption. There's a difference between wanting to be a parent and wanting to reproduce. One is selfless and the other is selfish."
Um, excuse me, but there is NOTHING selfish about choosing fertility treatment over adoption. Yes, there are kids who need homes, but all the bureaucratic red tape, years of waiting, exorbitant cost, and lack of infants available make it next to impossible to adopt. And you always run the risk of some good-for-nothing biological parent coming back in a few years and convincing the courts to yank your child out of your life. (And do the self-righteous do-gooders who insist that adoption is the only choice have a house full of special-needs foster kids themselves? Didn't think so.)
"How long does it take for a woman who believes in God to realize He's said NO? God doesn't always say yes."
Yes, you are right. God doesn't always say yes. But a "no" from God isn't necessarily permanent - it may mean "not right now", "not this way" or "do everything you can do first". And it's sort of handy to have personal revelation, direct from God, telling you when and how to go about having a family.
"if you're infertile, clearly "god's plan" didn't include you getting pregnant organically! have you not heard of adoption??"
Just one question - does this commenter wear glasses? Because if so, she should stop right now. Clearly God's plan did not include her being able to steer clear of walls and moving vehicles. Or has she ever taken tylenol for a headache? Or used medication to control her diabetes? Or put a broken foot in a cast? I could go on and on. This argument is simply ridiculous.
All right, my blood pressure is now through the roof, and I'm inches from punching my computer screen, so I guess that means enough comments.
Clearly, these people need to get over themselves. And they could use a few lessons on the plan of salvation and the importance of families.
Thank heaven for the restored gospel. And thank heaven for fertility treatments.
Monday, February 23, 2009
The End?
I've been thinking of deleting this blog. No one writes on it anymore. Not that anyone ever did, really. Occasionally I will feel the urge to write something, but then I lose my motivation as soon as I have a fresh computer screen in front of me. And I've discovered that the majority of the fertility-related things I want to say I now have the courage to say out loud on my personal blog.
I think that's because I've discovered that sharing my experiences can be helpful to a whole lot of people, and not just those who are going through infertility. And there is nothing I really want to say here that I can't say there.
So, if my fellow contributors would like to save this blog, they should speak up now. Because I plan to delete it in one week's time, barring any serious objections.
I think that's because I've discovered that sharing my experiences can be helpful to a whole lot of people, and not just those who are going through infertility. And there is nothing I really want to say here that I can't say there.
So, if my fellow contributors would like to save this blog, they should speak up now. Because I plan to delete it in one week's time, barring any serious objections.
Friday, January 2, 2009
A Strange Reaction
I haven't felt like blogging in a long time. Not because I don't have anything to say - I just haven't felt like saying it. I've been in a very strange place for the last three months. Not in an "oh I'm so picked on" or "woe is me" kind of way, just in the sense that I have felt unable to relate to anyone. Even on this blog, with a group of women who share common experiences and heartache, I have still felt like a foreigner.
So at church last Sunday, when the woman giving the Relief Society lesson spoke about her trial with infertility (sharing a struggle that was strikingly similar to my own) I would have thought my reaction would be one of instant bonding. This was a person who could truly relate to me. Someone who could completely understand exactly what I'd been through. We could be immediate and fast friends.
But my reaction was unexpected. As she told her story, I could relate, yes. But I sat there dry-eyed in a room full of sniffles and kleenex. Everyone was crying except for me (including my visiting mother-in-law, who elbowed me "knowingly" a time or two). It was very strange.
You would think I'd have wanted to run up to her after the lesson and have an instant heart-to-heart. But I didn't. I had absolutely no desire to do so. I didn't even want to meet her.
And I'm not sure what to think about that.
So at church last Sunday, when the woman giving the Relief Society lesson spoke about her trial with infertility (sharing a struggle that was strikingly similar to my own) I would have thought my reaction would be one of instant bonding. This was a person who could truly relate to me. Someone who could completely understand exactly what I'd been through. We could be immediate and fast friends.
But my reaction was unexpected. As she told her story, I could relate, yes. But I sat there dry-eyed in a room full of sniffles and kleenex. Everyone was crying except for me (including my visiting mother-in-law, who elbowed me "knowingly" a time or two). It was very strange.
You would think I'd have wanted to run up to her after the lesson and have an instant heart-to-heart. But I didn't. I had absolutely no desire to do so. I didn't even want to meet her.
And I'm not sure what to think about that.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Deal With It
It's Christmas time. Family time. A little wistful for me (I've got to be honest), yet certainly full of quiet, contemplative moments where I am thankful for the amazing blessings I have. Things could always be worse, and I'm grateful they're not.
Driving home from the store one evening last week, we were commenting on Christmas decorations in the neighborhoods through which we passed. My son was in a particularly high mood. He felt magnanimous, and declared there were only two things he wanted for Christmas.
Me: What?
Him: I want the Lego Bionicle Fighter Jet. {We knew this one.}
Me: Okay, and what's the other thing you want for Christmas?
Him: I want a baby brother or a baby sister.
Twinge. Tight smile. "Keep praying for that," my husband commented. No matter how far away I think I am from it, I guess there will always be a little pain ready to pierce my heart at the mention of having children. Right now, it's also bittersweet; I know my son would make a great older brother. It's not terribly easy to hear a suggestion from him that I've been thinking about for the last six years.
An ironic part of the conversation sent my tight smile into a wry one when I reiterated how hard it is for some women to get pregnant and have kids.
Him: I just don't understand.
Me: You mean, you're confused about all the medical woman stuff?
Him: Yeah, pretty much.
Me: You're a boy, alright.
I didn't take offense. I dropped it. He doesn't understand or deal with infertility, although he does pick up on it. He empathizes as much as he can. But I do deal with it... for both of us.
I'm fervently glad it's a season of hope.
Driving home from the store one evening last week, we were commenting on Christmas decorations in the neighborhoods through which we passed. My son was in a particularly high mood. He felt magnanimous, and declared there were only two things he wanted for Christmas.
Me: What?
Him: I want the Lego Bionicle Fighter Jet. {We knew this one.}
Me: Okay, and what's the other thing you want for Christmas?
Him: I want a baby brother or a baby sister.
Twinge. Tight smile. "Keep praying for that," my husband commented. No matter how far away I think I am from it, I guess there will always be a little pain ready to pierce my heart at the mention of having children. Right now, it's also bittersweet; I know my son would make a great older brother. It's not terribly easy to hear a suggestion from him that I've been thinking about for the last six years.
An ironic part of the conversation sent my tight smile into a wry one when I reiterated how hard it is for some women to get pregnant and have kids.
Him: I just don't understand.
Me: You mean, you're confused about all the medical woman stuff?
Him: Yeah, pretty much.
Me: You're a boy, alright.
I didn't take offense. I dropped it. He doesn't understand or deal with infertility, although he does pick up on it. He empathizes as much as he can. But I do deal with it... for both of us.
I'm fervently glad it's a season of hope.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Essentially is Enough
I went to the Ob/Gyn today to talk about some ultrasound results. The doctor was looking for uterine fibroids. Not something I particularly care to find.
The nurse handed me a copy of the results summary from the lab after she took my blood pressure and ensconced me in an exam room. I had 15 minutes to mull over the latinate words and get worried over all-too-familiar terms like "cystic lesions" and "endometriomas." I've come a long way through the endometriosis journey. The excruciating pain that once so troubled me hasn't happened for seven years.
After I read through the results, I got a horrible sinking feeling. For the first time in years the weight of secondary infertility crashed down. I could feel sadness and despair wanting to edge into my heart. What if I'm not supposed to have any more children? I thought. Maybe I'm supposed to have only one child. The next inevitable thought of This isn't going to work I aimed at the dejection and turned it around. I wouldn't let the discouragement work. Whatever will come will come.
The doctor greeted me and we looked over the results. The only fibroid present was tiny, insignificant and uninterfering. The cysts were follicular: essentially normal in resolving throughout my cycle. The endometrium was normal. When I asked about my progesterone levels from a previous blood test taken five weeks earlier, the doctor told me that the normal range is 4 to 28, and my level was 16.
Wait a minute. Is she saying that essentially, things for me are normal enough?
As I sat there mystified, she dropped a bomb I hadn't even considered. "As far as infertility goes, it may not be you."
Hmm. It sounds like there may be a couple of more tests to run. And this time, they won't be on me.
The nurse handed me a copy of the results summary from the lab after she took my blood pressure and ensconced me in an exam room. I had 15 minutes to mull over the latinate words and get worried over all-too-familiar terms like "cystic lesions" and "endometriomas." I've come a long way through the endometriosis journey. The excruciating pain that once so troubled me hasn't happened for seven years.
After I read through the results, I got a horrible sinking feeling. For the first time in years the weight of secondary infertility crashed down. I could feel sadness and despair wanting to edge into my heart. What if I'm not supposed to have any more children? I thought. Maybe I'm supposed to have only one child. The next inevitable thought of This isn't going to work I aimed at the dejection and turned it around. I wouldn't let the discouragement work. Whatever will come will come.
The doctor greeted me and we looked over the results. The only fibroid present was tiny, insignificant and uninterfering. The cysts were follicular: essentially normal in resolving throughout my cycle. The endometrium was normal. When I asked about my progesterone levels from a previous blood test taken five weeks earlier, the doctor told me that the normal range is 4 to 28, and my level was 16.
Wait a minute. Is she saying that essentially, things for me are normal enough?
As I sat there mystified, she dropped a bomb I hadn't even considered. "As far as infertility goes, it may not be you."
Hmm. It sounds like there may be a couple of more tests to run. And this time, they won't be on me.
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