If you had asked me 33 months ago where I saw myself in just under 3 years, I would have painted a picture of a tall husband with a red beard and dark haired wife playing with a toddler in their yard. The child would have his hair and her eyes and the cheeks on his pale face would be rosy with the excitement and joy of an energetic youngster. She would stand to the side and watch her husband trot alongside their child with his awkward little strides and smile at the sound of his shrieks and laughter while resting her hand on her growing abdomen. I would have painted you a picture of the life I fully expected to be living when we decided to start our family.
But the past 33 months have not been fruitful in the ways in which we anticipated. It started with excruciating pain with my monthly courses so extreme that I started having to miss work, church or other life activities and be confined to the bed and bathroom. Then came surgery to diagnose Endometriosis in April 2017. I don't remember much about the day I had the surgery, but I do remember the doctor coming in and telling me about the other findings, or rather lack of findings from the procedure; I was apparently born with only 1 operational ovary and Fallopian tube. Thankfully, the Endo was not causing any blockages in the one tube that I have. So at the time, 6 months into our conception journey, we were not concerned with infertility. My doctor felt that my ovary was only "firing off" every other month (I do have some ovarian tissue on the other side where an ovary did not fully develop that I not-so-affectionately refer to as "Bertha" and, because she hurts me from time to time, it would appear that she does at least try to ovulate). So, with assurance of up to 18 months of Endo-pain-free cycles and that 'most people get pregnant within 3 months after this surgery,' we proceeded as we had before. 3 months later, I was hit with another severely painful month. The surgery had not "fixed" my pain, but we still had hope that we would be pregnant before the end of the year.
Negative pregnancy test after negative pregnancy test, and the next thing we knew, it was December. We had passed the dreaded one year mark that meant we were now one of the 1 in 10 healthy couples under the age of 35 who have not successfully conceived a child in 12 months and are recommended to seek assistance with infertility. It was a tough blow. It was time to call back to my OB and take the next step.
According to my doctor, the "next step" was the fertility medication, Clomid. Not blood work to see what may be going on with my hormones. Not a sperm analysis for my husband. Clomid. I cannot fully express my deep and abiding hatred for this medicine. I only took it for 2 months before the anxiety, tears, frustration, depression, insomnia, and dark psychological side effects were more than I could handle. I called back to see if there was anything else that could be done. (I want to note that, if you took Clomid and it helped you get pregnant or you are a product of your mother taking it, I think that is wonderful! It can be such a great medicine and I wish it had actually been what I needed and that I had not had such a terrible reaction).
The next couple of months were full of testing alternated with calls from the nurse with words like "low ovarian reserve," "low sperm count, motility and morphology," and "referring you to an infertility specialist." The all-time low came April 2018- after 18 months of trying to conceive- when the specialist we had been sent to put all of the pieces of our infertility puzzle into place; he said, "Most people who come in here have 1 issue going against them. You guys have 4." I asked what the odds were for natural conception. He said 5-10% in one year and recommended IVF or IUI. My husband wanted to know if our issues increased our risk for a child born with disabilities. Thankfully, the doctor said no, however, they did mean an increased chance of miscarriage. We went to a burger place for lunch after that appointment. We didn't talk much and nothing tasted good.
We opted to give "us" another try until the end of the year before trying anything more invasive. Then life happened and we both changed jobs, bought a house and continued to pray and hope. Throughout the past year, we have really explored our hearts for adoption as well to open up another avenue to grow our family.
I have always had an interest in adoption. In fact, my dad told me that he remembered me always saying as a child that I wasn't going to have children of my own, that I wanted to adopt and that he felt that maybe that was something God knew all along. And my husband and I have always been adamant that we would be open to adoption. Even with all of this, we have wrestled with coming to the conclusion to adopt. There is a whole new world of avenues, options, costs, and pitfalls with adoption and it is overwhelming and stressful. Also, we found that it was easier to say we are willing to adopt until it became one of our only options. We have had to really grow in our understanding of both the Lord and ourselves before realizing that our interest in adoption is a calling He has laid upon us.
After extensive research, prayer and discussion, we have decided to learn more about Embryo Adoption (future post about the details of what this is to come!). We are currently waiting on an appointment to learn more about this form of adoption and if it is a good fit for us. If not, we will keep taking steps as we are led to our future children.
But you know what else has happened in 33 months? Blessings on blessings on blessings. I know that this infertility season has been a low and depressing time but God's mercies have been so sweet and He has been so good to us along the way. We moved to a little house on a hill on a small piece of land with the most gorgeous sunsets and peaceful nights spent listening to the frogs and katydids singing- exactly the place I want to paint a picture of that smiling toddler lifted up in the arms of my husband. The trials that we have endured together as a couple have strengthened our marriage and our spiritual life. And, while I am not grateful for infertility, I am grateful for all of the blessings along the way, and the personal, marital and spiritual growth that we could not have envisioned 33 months ago.
And in the end, I am grateful that we have answers as so many others with "unexplained infertility" do not. I am so incredibly grateful for the community I have found who are walking this strange, dark and crooked road. There is a unique and special form of grace in talking with other infertile couples. We each shine a light to help the other see to take the next step and to not give up even when the road takes an abrupt right turn. No matter your cross, God always provides comfort. Comfort in the form of His Word, family and friends, new friends who share in your pain, and, even amidst the most melancholy of times, He extends His grace and peace to help us through.
2 Corinthians 12: 8-9
Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.