6/25/2014 2 Comments The Ultimate Mommy GuiltBirth…the most beautiful thing a woman can do. I’ve watched TLC. I’ve seen the moments after birth where you hold your little peanut in your arms and cry with joy. You and your husband share a kiss and awe at the miracle you’ve created. This is how is supposed to be (insert scratched record noise here).
I really really wanted a picture perfect birth. I wanted to experience what women have experienced for hundreds of years. I know it sounds weird, but I wanted to feel the pain. I thought it would make me feel alive. I wanted to hold my baby right afterwards and share in that amazing moment when he came into this world. Since I didn’t have much to do with the whole getting pregnant process, this would be my way to feel like a woman. This is what women are made to do and I can do it. I didn’t want medicine to interfere anymore. Medicine did its part, now I wanted to do mine. My pregnancy was great (besides the reoccurring claustrophobia). I felt beautiful. Womanly. I was energized, eating healthy and exercising. Joey and I would go on walks every night and talk about the future with our little boy. It was a dream come true. I felt so good that in the middle of my pregnancy, I convinced myself that I could give birth without drugs. I switched from my doctor to a midwifery, I hired a doula and we came up with a birth plan (for all of you nay-sayers about birth plans, if you want to deliver naturally, I am convinced there is no way you can do it without a plan, you have to be prepared). Joey and I took classes, we practiced, we were prepared, or as prepared as one can be. I even came up with a lyric that I would chant over and over, “Everything that kills me, makes me feel alive”. Not yet knowing this was a true glimpse into my future. In midwifery practices, they use as little intervention as possible, which at the time, I loved. There are no ultrasounds, no cervix checks, just heartbeat and overall wellness checks. And I was their perfect patient. No red flags for this mama. They would ask me how I was feeling, and I’d always say “great”. My due date came and went and my belly had dropped. My mom said it was at my knees. At week 41 they start getting a little more serious about the checkups and start ultrasounds. Our appointment was at 4pm and at that point the ultrasounds tech had already gone home so, they did their normal heartbeat check, etc. They asked if I wanted a cervix check and I said yes. First red flag…my cervix is to the side, not straight down, so they can’t feel anything. And this shit is painful. Whoa. They send me home and tell me that I’m not yet dilated. Joey and I go out for sushi, not knowing that this would be our last meal as husband and wife, not mom and dad. I get a call from the midwifery and they want me to go to the hospital to get an amniotic fluid check. Yup, I know how this works…we pack our bags, full knowing that we won’t be coming home without a baby. We are at the hospital on Tuesday night. The ultrasound tech comes in to check my fluids and…THERE IS NONE! No fluid, nada, zilch. What! How did this happen? My water never broke. I haven’t been leaking. OMG, is the baby okay? How long has he been without fluid? They tell me that we need to induce. But since his heartbeat is good and he doesn’t seem to be in distress, we start with “natural” drugs. And more cervix checks, which is the most painful thing I have ever experienced since the cervix is to the side and they damn near have to put their arm half way up to feel it (Sorry to be graphic, but there is no other way to describe the pain. Joey and a nurse had to hold my arms down to do this. It was toe curling, excruciating pain.). This drug has to be in my system for 8 hours and then they will do another cervix check. So we wait. Wednesday morning comes and they do another check. I’m crossing my fingers and toes that we’ve progressed. I hold my breath with anticipation only to find that the cervix hasn’t moved and I’m not dilated. Now, I’m starting to get a little worried. They want to try this drug one more time to see if they can’t move things along. We agree and we wait. It’s Wednesday night and I’m having more contractions. They are coming often and are intense. I move around, sit on a ball, walk, trying to ease the pain. I’m still thinking that I can do this naturally. We’ve been here for 24 hours and I’m sure at this point the nurses are mocking me, they see my birth plan and I’m convinced they’re laughing behind my back. I start realizing that this may not end up the way I had hoped. They come to do the cervix check and it’s much more painful this time and it’s still to the side and I’m still NOT dilated. WTF! They want to do more intervention, but it has to be done vaginally and to get something to my cervix would unintentionally cause me to punch someone in the face. So they give me Pitocin (more drugs) and we wait. I can’t sleep. I haven’t slept in 24 hours. I haven’t eaten and the contractions are coming on stronger. They decide to give me a sedative to help me relax and sleep. It does the opposite. As soon as they put it in my IV, I freak out. I ask Joey what’s happening to me. I can’t see straight and I start to panic. I jump up out of bed and start looking around to see how the hell I can detach myself from the machines and get outside. I’m having one of my claustrophobic attacks. I start crying. I feel like I’m going to die. Joey flicks on all of the lights and tries to assure me everything will be okay. He gets the nurse. I know she thinks I’m crazy and she decides to give me Ambien. (Did I say I didn’t want drugs? Oh ya, well I’ve now been on multiple drugs for the past 28 hours.) The Ambien calms my ass down and I sleep for a hot minute. The nurses start coming in more regularly, I’m now on oxygen and the baby’s heart rate is fluctuating. This is going downhill fast. Sometime in the middle of the night, my midwife comes in and explains to me that things are not going as planned (no shit) and they need to do more intervention. I cry, she gives me a big hug and says that it will all be okay. In order to do more intervention, I’m going to need an epidural because they can’t shove their arm up far enough for the medicine without me wanting to kill them. It’s Thursday in the wee morning hours and the anesthesiologist comes in and says, “Are you sure you want an epidural? You aren’t dilated and I can’t guarantee that it will last through birth.” You’re kidding right? I didn’t want any medication, I’ve been pumped full of shit for 30+ hours and now I might not be able to utilize it during delivery? Are you insane? I have no other option, but to take it and pray that it lasts for the long haul. I get the epidural, they do more intervention and we wait. The sun is up and they come to check on me. I’m definitely worried. My baby has been without fluid for god knows how long, his heart rate is fluctuating, I’m pumped full of drugs, haven’t slept, haven’t eaten and have been enduring contractions for over 30 hours. I’m on the verge of losing it. I start to tell the nurse that if I’m not dilated I’m…she interrupts me and tells me to shush. She says I’m dilated to a 9. She says he should be here in the next hour. The moment I’ve been waiting for for so long is almost here! I can’t believe it! We see a glimmer of hope and the adrenaline kicks in. We call my mom, who lives down the street and sure enough 20 minutes later I tell them that I need to push. And wouldn’t you freaking know it…the epidural machine starts beeping that it’s out of medicine. They tell me that the effects of the medicine will last awhile and they’ll get the anesthesiologist in here when they can, but he’s currently in a surgery. Go figure. I start pushing and within 15 minutes you can see his little head. Everyone in the room is excited. He’s going to make an appearance any minute! Fast forward two hours. I’m still pushing. I’m throwing up. Joey said my lips are turning blue. I’m exhausted. The baby is stuck on my pelvis. No matter how hard I push, he’s not coming. I want to curl up and die. The doctor comes in and suggests a vacuum assist. He says that they can only try three times with the vacuum. We say yes because we don’t know what else to do at this point and they get prepared. There are a ton of nurses, the doctor, Joey and my mom in the room. The doc puts the vacuum on his little head and pulls…POP! The loudest pop you have ever heard. I’m looking around thinking the baby is out. Joey’s scared shitless thinking the baby's head popped off. And my mom is in the closet rocking back and forth praying to the Gods and crying. It’s a scene out of a horror movie. The doc puts the vacuum back on and POP! Third time is a charm, right? He puts it on his little head and POP! All I hear is the doctor say “FUCK” and I knew exactly what that meant. It didn’t work. The only option is C-section. I’m defeated. They prepare my mostly lifeless body and wheel me in. I just close my eyes and leave it up to the powers that be. Tears are slowly streaming down my face; I can’t wipe them because my arms are tied down. Joey comes to my side and I tell him not to talk. I knew that if he said anything, even a little line of motivation or condolence, I would sob uncontrollably. The past 2.5 days were hell and I still didn’t know how this was going to end. For all I knew, our baby was not going to come out okay. How could he be okay through all of this? They cut me open and have to pull our little boy out the opposite way he was already headed/already stuck. They had to use force, something I will never forget. They pull him out and he begins to cry. He’s covered in meconium. They again tell us there is no fluid and since I was overdue the placenta is old (it used up the fluid). They have to take him to the NICU. I’m numb at this point. There is no smile, no joy, no nothing. I just wanted the day to be over. I wanted to start over. I already wanted to forget it ever happened. I was wheeled back to the room and Jace had to stay in the NICU for a couple hours. After all that had happened, I still hadn’t held him. It felt like an eternity. Those hours were so surreal. I wasn’t pregnant, I didn’t have a baby and I just sat in my room replaying what the hell just happened and how I would have done it differently if I had known. Jace was released and I met him, held him, and loved on him. It was not what I had envisioned. I was so drugged up and so exhausted. I wasn’t functioning properly. I was so swollen Joey could hardly recognize me. I really just wanted to sleep and forget. Jace ended up being healthy, thank God. He was small for being overdue and he had torticollis (Google it) from being in my uterus without fluid, not floating he just sank to the bottom for who knows how long. He had to go to PT for months after he was born and each dreaded appointment reminded me of the decisions I had made. If only I would have stayed with my doctor. If only I would have had conventional care with ultrasounds. If only I would have not questioned modern medicine. If only I was okay with drugs. If only I didn’t fight it. If only I would have just told them to do a C-section when I came into the hospital. Things could have been so different. The guilt is ever so strong when you’re dealing with someone else’s life. Someone that you worked so hard to get. Someone you love so much that you can’t stand it. The guilt will never go away. No matter how many times people remind me that I didn’t know and I did the best I could with the best intentions. For months afterward it was all I could think about. Not to mention, I couldn’t not think about it because healing at both ends took weeks. I still can’t tell the story without crying. I doubt if I ever will. I’m so sad that what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life ended up being a day I’d rather forget. I’m so grateful that through all of my decisions I ended up with a healthy baby. It could have been worse, like if I actually decided to do a home birth. No other mommy guilt will trump this one. Like breastfeeding vs. formula or crib vs. swing. I’m just grateful we both made it out alive. I now have a huge appreciation for modern medicine. It works. It worked to get pregnant and it worked to bring my beautiful baby into this world. Why did I have to fight it so hard? I sometimes think that my body was punishing me saying “I told you you weren’t supposed to get pregnant”. But then I look at my sweet boy and smirk and say “Oh yes I was”.
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As I sit here and wait for the arrival of my son, I remember a journal entry I wrote awhile ago. I wrote it at a time where my anxiety had gotten the best of me. My belly started showing, the reality of me actually being pregnant had hit, and I was in full panic mode. I was claustrophobic in my own body. My son (my thoughts) were suffocating me, I couldn’t get away and didn’t think I would survive another 5 months. I thought that getting my feelings out on paper would help. To look at this from afar and see what my life was really going to become. The bad and the good, with little left to question, so I could no longer be scared.
Things I’m most scared of… Loosing my independence Sharing Joey after 15 years of having him to myself The baby not being healthy Crying baby Not being patient Not sleeping Not being able to let go Responsibility Getting older Not being a good mom Not raising a contributing citizen Giving birth Getting my body back Not being mentally prepared Not living it up and remembering my non-mom times The unknown Things I’m most excited for… Seeing what he looks like Loving him unconditionally Watching Joey be a dad Hugs & kisses, lots of them, forever Holidays Seeing his personality Showing him the world Watching his amazement Going on walks and pushing him in the stroller Watching him sleep Taking care of him Showing him off Watching Joey teach him how to play catch Watching him grow up Taking him camping Dates with Joey as a mom & dad Being a family of 3 I know there are many more things I could put on the list, but by the time I wrote these down I couldn’t see through the tears. I know the reality is that I need to take it one day at a time. Yes, my belly can and will get bigger without popping. Yes, I will still sleep, at some point my body will require it. Yes, everything will get organized and put away in due time. Yes, I will be a parent and make decisions without thinking twice about them. Yes, being pregnant will eventually end and I will probably miss it. This will be my last post as a non-mom as JJ is due this week. I am scared and sad to say goodbye to the Janet I know, but I am so happy and excited to see the Janet that I will become. The anticipation of knowing my life will change at any moment is more than I can bare. I keep questioning, “Can life really get any better?” And from all of you mom’s and dad’s out there, I know the answer is yes. So, I will wait for my turn to experience life in all its glory as my son is born into this world. I will ooh and awe and stare at him for hours and wonder how we created something so magical and then wonder what the heck to do with him. But until then, I’m going to sit back, relax and try to enjoy this one last weekend as Janet the wife, friend, sister, aunt, daughter and all of the other titles I have accumulated over the past 33 years. I know the addition of my new title will come inevitably and soon enough. 10/8/2013 1 Comment Today is the DayIt was February 8th and the tenth day after completing our IVF round. With each day that passed, I was looking for signs or symptoms of being pregnant; sickness, bloated, tiredness, ANYTHING. Our friends, Austin and Krista, had asked us to join them in Rocky Point for the weekend and since we didn’t want to be pacing around our house in anticipation of taking the pregnancy test on Monday, we decided to go. Just out of curiosity, and fully expecting the answer to be no, I had asked the doctor if we could schedule to take the pregnancy test three days early. Frankly, if I wasn’t pregnant (and I was assuming I wasn’t), I wanted to be able to drink my sorrows away on the beach. But to my surprise, the doc agreed and the morning we left for Mexico I went in for the blood test. They said we would have the test results by that afternoon. Mission accomplished.
Joey and I are driving to Mexico and, as you can imagine, the anticipation of that phone call was more than we could stand. We barley spoke a word for the entire 4+ hour drive. At 4pm we hit the border and NO PHONE CALL! We’re making our way to Rocky Point and 20 minutes into Mexico I realize that we no longer have phone service. I freak out! Really freak out. I tell Joey that we have to go back to the border where there’s service and wait. He adamantly disagrees. He thinks I’m crazy for even suggesting we sit on the Mexico border to wait, especially since its getting dark. He keeps driving. But this was one of the most important phone calls of our lives, so I did the only thing I could think of…I curse and threaten him. A few F-bombs were used and I told him that once we got to Rocky Point I was going to take the car and drive back by myself. I think he saw the no nonsense look on my face and it was persuasive enough for him to turn the car around and head back to the border. Whew…I think I deserve an Emmy for that performance! We find a parking lot, sit in the car (with it running), Joey rotating his head back and forth to make sure we don’t get car jacked, mugged or shot. We stare at the phone. Our life could change with one ring. COME ON! An hour passes. We’re sweating with anxiety and NO CALL! I finally decide to call the doctor’s office and…holy shit, it’s closed. Why the eff did I wait so long?! Now I’m mad at myself and we are both so frustrated. I leave a message for the on-call nurse. At this point we just want to know, take the pain away, we don’t care what the results are (ya right). It’s now 6pm. It’s definitely getting dark and Joey insists we leave because he doesn’t want to drive in Mexico in the dark. At that moment, the phone rings. I put it on speaker and we await the news. The nurse apologizes and says she wasn’t sure why we didn’t get a call. She blabs on about how they must have missed us on the call sheet. She then says “I hope you’re not too mad, because…you’re pregnant!” What!? Did we hear that correctly?! No way! Oh my God! Joey and I hug and kiss and both of us start crying. We were overjoyed and in disbelief. Our life will never be the same. Oh my God! All of the medicine, shots, anxiety, time and money have paid off. The emotional rollercoaster finally came to a stop. We’re pregnant! Holy crap! We couldn’t stop smiling and laughing with tears of joy. Joey gave me 5 minutes to call some family members before he bolted out of that parking lot. Everyone was so happy! We get to Rocky Point and Austin and Krista are waiting outside for us. They’re worried and wondering where the hell we have been for hours. We tell them that we have a good reason and gave them the news. It was a moment I’ll never forget; Krista was literally jumping and dancing around the room! We talked about it and celebrated all weekend. When the weekend was over, we couldn’t wait for the drive home so we could call everyone on speaker phone, tell them the news and hear their reactions. It could not have been more perfect! What an amazing beginning for this little life we created. 9/11/2013 0 Comments Another Round PleaseAfter our nieces and nephews, the second best thing that came out of my mass pregnancy nightmare was that Joey and I started focusing on us again. What we wanted and how we were going to get it.
We decided to give IVF another shot, literally. I thought it would be a much harder decision, but when we found out we had reached our insurance deductible for the year, it was a no-brainer. The next round would be very low cost. How could we refuse? We only had a month or two left in our insurance year and we had to act fast. There was no time for me to over-think this, which I know was better for all. Off to the doctor we went and the shenanigans started all over again. Appointments, shots, medications, oh my! Luckily, this time wasn't as bad. I knew what to expect, mastered giving myself shots, and I knew the medication schedule. There was no learning curve involved, which made it much less scary. The doctor had boosted up all my meds and insured us that this was going to be a good run. (Ugh, enough with the positivity, let’s just get this over with.) We were skeptical. I was skeptical. It didn't work before, why would it work now? We were able to get a few more eggs this time around and when all was said and done, we had 5 embryos total. Only two of them were “good” quality, two were fair quality and one was poor quality. All I could think was, “Out of two damn rounds of IVF we only have two good embryos? WTH!”. But in a nanosecond that switched to, “THANK GOD we have two good embryos!”. This time around we actually had a decision to make. Do we use the two good quality embryos and hope that one takes? Do we use one good and one fair? In our minds we thought that we should save a good one for later, like a back-up. But in the fertility world, that’s not how it works. The best odds were using the two good embryos and hoping that one takes. So in one swoop the two, and only, good ones were placed inside the abyss that they would call home. Well, at least for the long, excruciating 10-day wait. Fingers crossed and breath held. 9/6/2013 0 Comments Do I Dare Reminse?Fall 2012.
Three of my sister-in-laws are pregnant! Can you believe? Three of them! We are officially the only couple in a family of 7 that is not pregnant or with children. I try not to play the martyr, but come on, how much can a girl take! One right after the other, three times in a row. Nothin’ like reality slapping you in the face. Shoot me now! How could I be so happy, yet so sad at the same time? With every surprise announcement, I wanted to hug them and cry. At family functions, it’s all baby talk. What they feel like, what they need to buy, how they made the exciting announcement to their other family and friends. I’ve tried to stay in the conversation by throwing out whatever second-hand knowledge I have about pregnancy and babies, just hoping that I won’t get inadvertently pushed out of the club because I really have no idea what I’m talking about. Luckily, for all involved, my pity party was brief. I was able to pull myself out of the dark hole pretty quickly, the first time of course easier than the third. The one thing I have tried to tell myself through all of this is that I can’t compare my life to others. Each life is different, each scenario no better or worse. By comparing and being jealous I will just dig myself deeper into the hole and I know, the deeper I get, the harder it will be to climb out. Am I happy for my sisters & brothers? So very happy! Shouldn’t we all be able to have what we want? Absolutely! Do I have my moments of weakness? Of course. But those moments always lead me back to my center. Re-focus on my husband, my life, my journey and that will lead me to happiness. To be continued… My Random Thought: This morning I sent my family and friends a shot of my growing belly. I think it's so strange how I only see them a few times throughout this process and then I have a kid. I really can't wrap my mind around it, so in the meantime they are all being tortured by my mug shot! 8/15/2013 1 Comment I'm Back and Pregnant!Whoa it’s been a long time. I can’t believe the last post I made was a year ago! A YEAR TODAY! And my, how times have changed. I’ve been waiting 5 years to say this…I’m pregnant! And have been for 7+ months! WHAT? HOW? WHEN? You ask. I know, I know, I’ve left you readers in the dust. Far, far, behind and I apologize. A few of my friends have insisted that I start writing again because they are concerned that you poor souls have been wondering what happened to me. That maybe the hormones took hold of me and I had jumped off a cliff or something. Well, now you don’t need to fret. I’m happy, healthy and growing by the minute! I shouldn’t have stopped writing. I really enjoyed it. I even enjoyed spilling my deepest darkest secrets. To tell you the truth, it’s kinda liberating (although totally cowardly because you don’t have to tell anything to anyone’s face). You should try it! I’m sure the reason I stopped is because blogging can become all-consuming for someone who is Type A like me. When I decide to write, I think about the next topic, the next line, when should I post, is it witty, the title, does anyone care, do I care; on and on. Exhausting. I wish I could be more lax about it, but it’s just not possible. So, instead I have sat for a year contemplating whether I should begin writing again. Frankly, I should have just written because all I’ve thought about is whether to blog or not, like a broken record. Stupid. But all is not lost, I have been journaling a bit and since I’ve decided to make the leap back into the blog space, you lucky peeps will get another glimpse into my crazy mind, except this time pregnant, yikes! My random thought: Stay tuned, but whatever you do, don't go back and read my previous posts, they're scary. 8/15/2012 2 Comments It's Time To Get RealI just came home from another fantastic visit with my sister and her beautiful family in Philadelphia. Every time I visit, I come back with a new perspective on life. My sister and I live so differently, but we are so much the same. We can talk for hours on end. Our conversations jump from one thing to the next and if anyone heard us, they would most likely not be able to understand a word.
One night after dinner, the conversation comes up of children, IVF, adoption, the next step for Joey and me...yada yada yada. I knew the topic was coming and I thought I had come to a good place about it. I was just finally being able to talk about it without getting emotional and with a clear(er) picture in my head of what my future is going to look like...and then I talk to my sister. She is someone that I can be completely open and honest with. I know although she feels bad for me, she offers me advice without the sadness fogging up her brain. She doesn't speak to me out of pity. She doesn't push her idea of her perfect family upon me. She truly wants me to make the best decision possible, whatever that may be. She doesn't make me feel guilty for wanting or not wanting to do IVF again, or wanting or not wanting to adopt, or just being okay as a childless family. But what she doesn't want me to do is sit on the sidelines and watch my life pass me by. Which I'm starting to realize is happening. She always asks me the REAL questions. The ones that nobody wants to know the answers to, including myself, because they're much too deep and sometimes brutally honest. Why am I so scared? What is truly holding me back from making any decisions? What is my reasoning on why one option is better than the other? And why are you even considering not having kids at all? She's asking questions that I thought I had answers to and then when someone actually asked them, I realized that I don't have any answers at all. Empty. She proceeded to play devil's advocate with all of my made up answers and gave me a book that will help me look at things from a different perspective. In the first couple pages it reads, " I happen to believe that America is dying of loneliness, that we, as a people, have bought into the false dream of convenience, and turned away from a deep engagement with our internal lives - those fountains of inconvenient feeling - and toward the rantic enticements of what our friends in the Greed Business call the Free Market. We're hurtling through time and space and information faster and faster, seeking that network connection. But at the same time we're falling away from our families and our neighbors and ourselves." When I read this, my eyes filled with tears. I'm realizing that I am one of these people. I'm ignoring myself for the convenience of not dealing with me. I'm wrapping myself up in other people lives, sticking my face in books and magazines, taking classes, shopping and filling up my time in any way possible for the convenience of not having to think about my life, where it's going or what will be. What I'm becoming is a shell. I'm starting to understand what I have to do, I have to reach. I have to dig and think and really invest some time in myself and in my thoughts. This, I know, is the only way answers are going to come to me. I know they're not going to come easy and I already know I will start thinking and then stop because it's just too much, but if I really want to be a mom, even if I possibly want it, it's going to require work. Today as I sit on the airplane, alone in my thoughts, I start to cry. I cry because for the first time I've allowed myself to be present within my own mind and this, my friend, is a scary place to be. My thoughts are overwhelmed with pros, cons and what ifs and answers, scary brutally honest answers. Answers that I don't want to hear and answers that just lead to more questions. It's so overwhelming, all I can do is cry. But it's in this moment I remember sitting on my sister's couch and feeling my unborn niece's hiccups or hearing the tiny yawn of my nephew in the backseat of the car and I can feel that this is true bliss. Something that I want, but still have to figure out how to get. My Random Thought: I'm not sure how I was able to be "alone" in my thoughts in the airplane. I was stuck on the runway for over an hour with the woman behind me talking (as loud as possible) about giving birth to her triplets and how her mom is going on dates and kicking her daughter and her cats out of her house. And even worse, we when took off she started yelling "Good Lord", "Ewww ee", over and over again until the plane was in the air! All I could do was laugh. 7/23/2012 1 Comment The Age of EntitlementOne day in high school, a teacher that I was close with had a meltdown in class. I remember the day vividly. Class was ending and we were all mingling around the classroom. Some of us girls were hanging around her desk and one of us asked her if she was ever going to have children. I remember her breaking down, sobbing and saying that she might not be able to have kids. I felt horrible, I'm sure we all did. We had no idea and now that I think back on it, we probably asked her hundreds of times over the past school year. There was nothing that we could do or say to make her feel better. We were all young and felt helpless and awful. I know it's not something that you want to share with your students, but we were teenagers, not children. I wonder why she felt the need to hide it? I could tell by her response that she had been holding it in long enough that when we asked AGAIN, it was the last straw and she just needed to put a stop to it.
This was my first encounter with someone dealing with infertility and it is etched in my brain. I'm not sure if it was a sign, or intuition or whatever, but from that point on, I knew that having children wasn't a "give in". I knew it wasn't something that was just handed to you on a silver platter. Through my adult years, if anyone asked me if I was going to have children I always said "yes, but you never know until you try". Knowing what I know now, it is an eerie thing that always came out of mouth. It's eerie because I know everyone doesn't think like this and it makes me wonder why I held on to this memory so tightly. It amazes me when I hear my friends talk and say things like, "we can't go on that trip next year because in March I'll be pregnant" or "by then we'll have two kids". They say it with such certainty, it almost makes me mad. I just feel like asking them how they are so sure, but why would I want to dampen their dreams. I watched a Dr. Oz show over the weekend and the topic was infertility. Someone in the audience put it perfectly, modern day women feel entitled. We feel like we should have it all; a career, a life and then children. We see it with all of the celebrities that are in their 40's having children. They have had a successful career, found the love of their lives and...POOF they have a family. What they don't tell you is that they use fertility drugs, surrogates and donor eggs to get their children. Being able to have children whenever we want is what is portrayed and infertility is rarely discussed. Dr. Oz said that you should know if you want to have children by the age of 30 and if you do, you need to start taking steps to ensure that it is a possibility for you, i.e. find a mate stat, or freeze your eggs. After the age of 30, you only have a 20% chance of getting pregnant each month. By the age of 40 it drops down to 5%. I know what you're thinking...he's crazy, we don't feel or look like we’re 30, and frankly 30 these days is young. Unfortunately, this is the truth. We are aging. Our organs and eggs are aging and we can't stop it from happening. We should be talking about this! Women should not be assuming that they can have children naturally well into their 30's. It's just not that easy. I know most 32 year-olds have good quality eggs and maybe my situation is rare, but I've been married for 8 years, since the age of 24, and if I would have known this information, maybe we would have done things differently. Maybe we would have had kids sooner when my eggs were still young and viable. We didn’t have to wait all of those years. But I wanted it all and I wanted it to play out perfectly. As you know from my first post, we took full advantage of our younger years, and then we landed our careers, and bought the family house and car. By doing this, we may have sacrificed the last, and one of the most important, pieces of the puzzle. I can go back and think about what could have been, but I'm past that and I realize that it won't change my situation, my point is that infertility is not talked about as much as it should be. Luckily, with modern day medicine (and a shitload of money), you can have children into your 40's. What they don't draw attention to are the consequences. You are putting synthetic drugs into your body, point blank. These drugs can cause cancer and put you and your children at risk. You can have multiples, miscarriages and abnormality rates are higher. You can have complications with the pregnancy, bed rest and may even risk your own life to have the baby. I know this, I signed the sheets and sheets of paperwork that tell you all of these risks and I still chose to do it. Millions of other women will also choose the same road, but it's a hard road to go down. It is a road that should not be taken lightly and as you know by all of my posts, I questioned it the ENTIRE way. But I needed to do it, I didn't care about the paperwork, I don't even know if I read it. My doctor definitely didn't tell me the risks verbally, although I wish she would have, and she definitely didn't point out that the odds of the procedure even working are less than one out of three. Even if she did, I'm not sure if I would have changed my mind. What I wish is that I never had to go down that road in the first place. Infertility is more prevalent today than ever before, and one of the biggest reasons is that people are waiting to have kids. For many it all works out perfectly, but take it from me, sometimes you just can't have it all. Update from the last post: I saw the acupuncturist, he's great, but a bit too far for me to drive. He did give me some good resources and dietary info. He has a few goals for me 1.) Get any anxiety under control. I never really thought I had this, but the more I become aware of my body, the more I realize I could probably work on this. 2.) I need to eat some meat. There are proteins in meat that you cannot get from supplements, vegetables and beans. We, of course, can survive without meat, but if you're trying to procreate, you need these proteins. Eat a little meat each week that is hormone free, free range and grass fed. 3.) Eat gluten free. Most people have a slight allergy to wheat and even a slight allergy can inflame your reproductive organs. 4.) Get my BMI to 20. None of which will be easy, all of which will be easier than the alternative. 6/29/2012 5 Comments Is There Life Without?It's been a few months and I've been receiving messages from many friends about how they hope we haven't thrown our hands up in the air and given up on the quest to have children. So, I thought it's about time that I give you an update.
If you ignore something, does it ever go away? I know what you're answer will be...It may go away for an hour, a day, a week, and a month is stretching it, but it will always be there. I tried this. After the failed procedure I just didn't want to think about it anymore. It's just too much. When you’re in the thick of things, it's crazy. You're crazy, literally. You're mind is going a million miles a minute, every move you make could have a adverse effect on what you're trying to accomplish. You know daily what you're body is doing and what's not going right with it and frankly, it's better just to know your heart is beating and you're breathing. Living. For these reasons, I thought we would never do it again. So, for the last couple months I haven't "thought" about it. I didn't want to. I was over it. Yes, I still want a family, but not as much as I thought I did after THAT process. Joey and I could still have a fun and fulfilling life on our own, right? We've had weddings and parties to attend, people to see. I purchased gifts for our friend’s and family’s children, thinking that this would fill the void. We could just be the fun couple without any kids. We've kept ourselves busy. Joey got into medic school with the Fire Dept. and I took up guitar lessons. We're planning the upcoming holidays, a big vacation and looking forward to our future, just the two of us. Or so I thought. Months are passing by much quicker than I anticipated. I had birthday, 32. Yet another reminder that time will tick on whether or not we want it to. My ovaries are getting older. With the rate the doctor gave me, they're probably 40 by now and on their way to extinction (okay, maybe an exaggeration, but nonetheless). And we have yet to miraculously get pregnant on our own time. So after a few months of "ignoring" it, we decided we really need to think about it again. Do we want children at all, do we want children of our own blood, do we want to adopt? One answer cannot wait, so we must decide whether or not to take action. I'm on another "diet" or I should call it a "change in dietary lifestyle", because I hope that I actually stick to this one, for my health, pregnancy would just be a huge plus. I'm trying to stay away from gluten, dairy and meat. So what do you eat, you ask? Veggies, fruits, beans, whole grains, rice, nuts, etc. I'm not super strict on it, but I'm trying and within the past couple weeks I've felt much better, so I'm sure that is a step in the right direction. I usually drink 1/2 cup of coffee in the morning and a few glasses of wine a week, which I'm also trying to get out of my diet, but I'm not going to lie, those are going to be much more tricky. I've added CoQ10 and wheat grass supplements to my routine because I read some shenanigans on the Internet about those. Anything right? I'm visiting a new acupuncturist this afternoon. He seems to have done a lot of research on infertility and I'm hoping he will have some insight for me, along with poking me with needles in just the right spots to increase my chances (sounds crazy, I know). So, you guessed it, we're going the natural route...again. But this time full force. No questioning or guessing involved, just doing it (no pun intended). Which also means we're risking months of much needed eggs for the possibility that this may work (but no pressure). If this doesn't do the trick, we will plan on doing another round, and for sure the last round, of IVF in the spring. I will then be right around the corner from my 33rd birthday and going on our 5th year of trying to have a family, which makes me cringe with disbelief. Let's hope it doesn't get that far. My hope is that one day I will update this blog with a "Surprise, I'm Pregnant!" post, which will bring me back to the age of 28 and the plan from the begining. My Random Thought: Facebook has turned into a children’s photo album. As much as I love seeing the kids, what happened to my cousins, sister & friends? Did they disappear once they gave birth? Does mother/fatherhood make you non-existent? As I search for a glimpse of them in the background or in a reflection from a mirror, I’m questioning if there’s really life without. No matter the age, this is the hardest lesson to learn. It never ever gets easier, even if you’ve been reminded of it thousands times.
I know it’s taken me awhile to write, but I’ve had so many random thoughts, I knew they wouldn’t come together in a blog. I also knew that as I wrote this, it would bring back emotions that I would just rather stuff back where they came from and never release again, but it’s probably better to acknowledge them, admit that they are there, and move on. When we got the call, it was a blow. There was no getting around it. I tried and tried to prepare myself and Joey, but as soon as she said “I wish we were calling with better news”, I lost it. I don’t even know what she said after that. I was just devastated. Joey could obviously see the conversation that was taking place over the phone and he came and sat beside me. He put his arms around me and we both just sat there and cried. We cried as though something/someone had just died. We mourned over our idea, our wish, our dream that just didn’t come true. I don’t even think we spoke a word, we just sat in silence for hours, trying to understand what we had just been told. A million things can pop into your mind in one split second. Yes…the shots, the appointments, the blood draws, the turmoil…all for nothing. But more than that, all that we had worked and wished for was gone. All with one phone call. There is nothing left. The news that was given to us dictates if we ever get to play Santa, the Tooth Fairy, or hide eggs from the Easter Bunny. If we ever get to coach our kids in sports, camp as a family or see the wonder and amazement in our child’s eyes. Who will we show this fantastic world to? Who will share the love and hate and all of the life lessons that are learned along the way? It dictates if I would ever get to say, “she laughs just like me” or “he throws a ball just like Joey”, along with a million other things I can think of. It would determine if my family tree stops at me. I know it sounds crazy, but I did a project in third grade with my family tree. To this day, I remember it vividly. It’s THE reason I kept my maiden name as a middle name, so that my children and my children’s children and my children’s children’s children could always find me and know where they came from. And now my branch might just end. And who’s going to take care of us when we’re old? Inevitably one of us is going to die first and the other will be left with no one. No one who is as invested as your own children are. To share the memories and stories of the life you once lived. It’s thoughts like these that I’m not sure ever leave your mind. It’s thoughts like these that I have to think about and most people never do. It’s thoughts like these that make you wonder, “What if? One more try?”. We went to the doctor yesterday for a follow up. She has no answers for us. She wishes that she had what we were looking for, but she just can’t seem to figure out why a young(er), healthy woman would have problems with egg quality. Why the medicines didn’t give me the boost that I needed to produce healthy, strong eggs. So we are just left wondering. I have been racking my brain trying to think of things that may have happened to me in the past that have taken a toll on my body…but nothing. She recommends that we try one more time. She says that sometimes its trial and error. If we do it again, she would change the meds and boost them up, since I obviously tolerated them too well last time. She would do all that she could and raise the doses as much as possible to make sure we had the best chance to get strong, healthy eggs. After a second try, she would recommend donor eggs. Joey and I obviously have a lot of thinking to do. I never even thought I would do this once and now the opportunity is being thrown at me again. The doctor is very convincing and since our insurance pays for the majority of it, why should we not try again? Will that take away the “what if” factor and leave me with the answers I need, even if a child doesn’t come out of it? And if it does work, we would have our own little being, created out of love, that we could cherish for the rest of our lives. It’s definitely tempting. But the shots, the emotions, the devastation…is it worth it? There is not a better word for it than exhausting. It drains the life out of you. I kept in pretty good spirits through the whole process, but I would not say that I was truly living life. I was in a fog the entire time. Something is always in your mind that just won’t leave and haunts you everywhere you go. Every ounce of you is being taken over by this process. Exhausting. But, then again, the whole process from the first shot is only five weeks and in the grand scheme of things, that’s really a blink of an eye. I could keep going back and forth, but frankly, I don’t want to think about it. I have a trip to Vegas coming up in a couple of weeks and I just want to relax. There are also a few other doctors that I want to look into and some homeopathic stuff. If we decide to do this again, I want to start preparing my body months in advance, so I can really truly say we gave it our best shot. Until then, I may be blogged-out for a while (maybe a few random blogs here and there). I have truly enjoyed writing and I thank you for following our journey and being so supportive. We are blessed with so many great friends and can’t express how much your support has meant to us. For right now, we just want to live life. We can be the couple you call when you want to get away from your kids, or the couple you call when you need someone to watch your kids. We can refocus on being a great friend, aunt, uncle, daughter, son, brother, sister, employee and all of the other amazing things that define us as human beings. At any rate, call us, we have time on our hands….for now. My Random Thought: But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need. ~ The Rolling Stones |
AuthorHi! I'm Janet, a 35 year old wife, friend, daughter, sister, aunt, event planner and lover of life. My amazing husband of 9 years, Joey, and I struggled with infertility for 4 years. I welcome you to read my stories as I share my sometimes crazy thoughts on our journey through Archives
June 2014
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