The Story Of Us: Infertility

Welcome to Part 5 of my series "The Story Of Us".

If you have missed any of the other stories so far, here they are for your convenience:
Part 1: The Beginning
Part 2: Dating
Part 3: Getting Engaged
Part 4: Getting Married

***This post may have some delicate subject matter, so for those that are squeamish or can't handle the topic of the female body you may want to skip this post. It's not in GREAT detail, but I want you to be warned!***
***I also want to add that another fantastic post on infertility can be found at Rock's In My Dryer.***

As a little girl I always imagined how my adult life would go.

I would fall in love, get married and have babies.

I have always loved children and just assumed that having my own would be as simple as saying it.

Unfortunately for us, this was not the case.

John and I had been married for a little over 3 years when we decided that we would like to start trying for a baby. I stopped taking any birth control pills and waited expectantly each month to see any evidence of being pregnant.

After a few months of not having a period and several negative pregnancy tests, I went to see my family doctor. She was an older women and all she told me was that I was young and I had lots of time to get pregnant. She was not concerned with the lack of my period. End of story.

Fortunately I decided to get a second opinion and I found a wonderful young doctor! Right away she decided to schedule me for some bloodwork as some other physical signs were leading her to believe that I might have something called PCOS (more on that to come).

The tests came back looking like PCOS might be a reality for me so my doctor decided to refer me to a specialist. She had mentioned that it is not safe for a woman to go over 6 months without a period due to increased risk of cervical cancer, and I was already well over halfway there.

I waited anxiously to hear from the specialist, all the while continuing each month to deal with the ups and downs of more negative pregnancy tests. You see, there was almost a physical ache in me to become pregnant. As each month went by, I became more withdrawn and depressed. My head was telling me that I couldn't get pregnant if I wasn't ovulating, but my heart was telling me that I needed to have a baby in my arms. Each month I waited to see 2 lines on a pregnancy test, and each month I became a little more disappointed.

Finally the letter came from the specialist booking me in for our initial appointment. She wanted to do an ultrasound (internal) and get a good look at everything before discussing a diagnosis and any treatment. The week before the appointment I got my period, exactly 6 months to the date of my last one, . I completely believe that this was God's way of telling me that He was in control and that He was taking care of me.

So John and I went to that appointment and it was confirmed that I do have PCOS. Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome is difficult to explain as it doesn't always present itself in the same way. About 5-10% off all women have it to some degree. The main symptoms of it are: lack of period, weight gain, adult acne and insulin resistance.

The specialist had an immediate action plan. Since we knew that I just had a period we were greatly relieved about that, but she also wanted to put me on a fertility drug to make sure that I would continue to ovulate on a regular basis. She wanted to schedule an HSG for me, as well as ensure that everything was in working order with John. She was very thorough and caring throughout this process.

The HSG test was very uncomfortable. Basically they inject dye into the fallopian tubes and check for any problems or blockages. I remember feeling very sick immediately afterwards and also feeling like passing out. John was there squeezing my hand and feeling bad for me. Fortunately that sensation passed quickly and we were able to discuss the results. Everything looked normal for both of us so she wanted to start me on a drug called Metformin.

Typically Metformin is a drug prescribed to diabetics but since PCOS leads to insulin-resistance, it often helps to regulate a woman's cycle and get things back into working conditions. It is also a very strong drug, so it needs to be started in very small doses and increased very slowly. The side-effects of it are not "pleasant".

Just before this appointment with the specialist I had a small promotion at work on a temporary basis. It ended up being a job from God! The side-effects (which I won't explain on here) led me to need to leave my desk many times a day and with my previous job as a bank teller, that would not have been possible. I can just imagine all the grouchy customers glaring at me as I once again needed to excuse myself for a few minutes. I was so very thankful for this promotion for this reason, as well as it was less stressful on me.

I continued to struggle each month with not having a baby. For those of you who have never been in this situation, you are so very fortunate. The physical pain of empty arms is hard to describe. So many things could set me off into a fit of tears. Seeing a pregnant woman, baby showers, Mother's Day, and anything in between. I didn't share this pain with more than a handful of people at the time because I wanted people to think that I had it all together. I wanted them to think that I didn't have any problems. We told our parents, my sisters, a couple of friends from our small group and that was about it. These were people we trusted, and who would be able to see that I wasn't the same happy person and that something wasn't right.

My manager before my promotion, who also was a Christian, had written me a lovely card for Thanksgiving that year. It said something to the effect of "I'm not sure what you are going through right now, but I'm praying that God will be very near to you in this season". After reading that card, I went into her her office, closed the door (which was all windows) sat down and burst into tears. For the next 30 minutes, I poured out my heart to her and she listened and prayed with me. It was a small release and relief that I could open up to her and know that she would support me in prayer and encouragement. Afterwards, everyone was asking if I was okay as they could see that I was crying a lot, but I didn't feel like they would "get it" so I didn't explain anything to them. Part of it was that they knew I was a Christian and I didn't want them to see me struggle with this depressing battle and somehow link this with my relationship with God. I did end up sharing with 1 other Christian friend at work who was also considering becoming pregnant. These 2 women were great to work with and without them, work would have been a lot more challenging.

You may wonder why I write about this as if it was only my struggle, and not John's too. This is because for him it wasn't as painful. He wasn't the one waiting for the peed-on stick to show up with 2 lines, he wasn't the one taking drugs multiple times a day, he wasn't the one crying in the car after seeing a pregnant woman, he wasn't the one who desperately needed a child. This isn't to say that he wasn't sad, but for him this was not a case of urgency or depression like it was for me. He was sad for me, not really for himself.

I knew of several friends who also battled with infertility and I borrowed a book titled "The Ache For A Child". It was a good book to read, to help me understand that I was not alone, but it was still hard to read as it made our labelled infertility that much more difficult to come to grips with. I began to question if I would ever be a mom and started to push God away.

People continued to pray for us, which I am so very thankful about. My mom once gave me this bible verse from Psalms 113:9, "He give childless couples a family, gives them joy as the parents of children" (The Message). She said that she truly believed that in God's time it would happen, and that we would have more than one child. At the time, her encouragement was nice, but I still doubted and questioned why this was happening to me.

Why me? It is such a dangerous question. I guess I felt entitled to having my own children. I thought that I was a decent Christian, someone who helped out in various areas of the church. If all these teenagers could get pregnant after one slip, then surely we could get pregnant with no difficulty. I know all about the Abrahams and Sarahs of the Bible who eventually were blessed with children, but the stories don't explain the grief and despair that Sarah must have felt for all those many years. And for her, there were MANY MANY years. I didn't want that to be me. I wanted God to reward me for my efforts.

I even began to consider foster parenting or adoption. I just wanted to be able to mother someone, even if it wasn't my own biological child. (Actually even to this day, I still sometimes think that foster parenting would be something for us someday. Not right now, but maybe someday. )

I was still involved with singing at church and was asked to sing a solo one weekend. Our church back then had several weekend services so it would mean singing the same song 3 times that weekend. And...it was Mother's Day weekend. Up until that point, I hadn't sung a solo at this church so my initial reaction was excitement. When I realized the song that I would have to sing, as well as the fact that it was Mother's Day, I became apprehensive. But I had already agreed to it and decided to just pray about it and hope for the best. The song itself isn't about mothers, but it has a lot of lyrics that would be relevant to a mother. It was "Legacy" by Nichole Nordeman. It was a tough weekend, but I made it through it without melting into a mess of tears.

The very next weekend was the May long weekend. I hadn't been feeling quite right lately, including a very strange visit to Superstore where I couldn't even look at the food on the shelves without feeling sick. That Saturday morning, John suggested that I take another pregnancy test. My period, which was much more regulated with the Metformin, was late and combined with the slight nausea he thought this would be a good idea. So out came another test. Our lives were forever changed 2 minutes later when we got the positive results! After a year and a half of negative tests, we had a positive one! I literally leaped into John's arms and started weeping. It was an amazing feeling. John, the slightly more pessimistic one, suggested that I take a second test just to be sure. So after lots of water and waiting, I did. We were pregnant!!

I would love to say that this was an amazing pregnancy, and although I was extremely grateful to be pregnant with our child, I was very sick. I was on meds for the nausea for many many months, I ended up with carpel tunnel and was very swollen. My hands and feet were so very itchy that I would sometimes scratch them until they would bleed. I tried very hard not to complain because I was just happy to have a healthy baby growing inside of me. And we were blessed with a beautiful, healthy girl and we wouldn't trade her for all the world! I can't imagine not having Brianna.

Looking back, I am able to see some of the bigger picture involved in the timing of our pregnancy, but at the time all I could see was the sorrow. Just this morning I began reading the book of Job (in the Bible) and read all about the severe challenges that were placed before Job. He didn't understand why all the horrible things happening took place (losing his livestock and family, serious health issues), but instead he chose to praise God in the midst of it. I would like to say that I was also like this, but realistically I had some very low days. I wasn't perfect. I'm still not. My faith took a serious hit in this season of our lives, but God has been faithful to show himself to us over and over again.

We found this out more than ever when I was 8 months pregnant and John called me at work. It was a phone call that I will remember for a very long time. It was a call that changed a lot of major things for us.