I am in the process of changing doctors. I have visited with one Doctor who stressed that I need to start freezing embryos as soon as possible. I am scared. I want to go see another doctor in California but I hesitate when it comes down to making the final decision. Once I make this decision I start IVF and I am scared about the amount of time, money and emotion that will go into it. I am terrified that I will put time, money and emotion into IVF and it won't work. Terrified really. I know that I just need to take the step forward but once I do there is no turning back. I am terrified that I will end up hurting more than I do right now. The pressure in my chest is building again, making me anxious.
How do I get past the fear, how do I move forward?
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
crossing the fine line
There is a fine line in blogging, what is too much information and what is being honest? I have spent the last year wondering if writing about my struggles with infertility would cross that line. Today I read the article Infertility: The Disease We Need to Start Talking About, and I decided that while I have been pretty open about what is going on perhaps there is more I can do to make infertility less of an unspoken battle. I shared this on my personal blog which was the first time I had broached infertility there. It was incredibly nerve wracking. There is a safety posting on this blog that none of my friends or family read or know about. So today I crossed the blog line.
Infertility is obviously not something that is solely associated with age. I am not infertile because I waited "too long" to have children but rather because I was born with less eggs than most girls, something I am told is a genetic condition. Because of this I will likely enter menopause around 35, something that will bring on a whole host of other health issues. So the simple truth is that infertility is a health issue.
A lot of health insurance plans won't cover IVF or other infertility treatments. I have been lucky so far that all my treatments have been covered but that coverage ends as Jackson and I get ready to start IVF. The reason insurance companies won't cover infertility treatments? There is the argument that having children is a lifestyle choice and not a medical necessity. Personally I struggle with this argument. I was put in this position by way of a genetic abnormality not because I chose to put a certain lifestyle ahead of another. At 24, 25 and 26 I should have and still be able to have children without the need of medical intervention. It's a medical condition that has rendered my ability to become pregnant without medical assistance virtually impossible.
This isn't an easy topic to broach. It is deeply personal and very emotional. Often I end up sobbing when talking about it which embarrasses me to no end. There is a vulnerability that is exposed when talking about infertility that is only compounded by crying, it is a sure way of letting the world know just how deeply you feel the loss. Crying aside, talking about infertility can be awkward. Awkward for me and awkward for you. Many people don't know what to say when talking about infertility and as I told my sister the other day, I am far from equipped for filling awkward silences and pauses.
Almost a year and a half ago when I started to think about seeing a reproductive endocrinologist I found that I was very thankful to my friends who had been open with me about their struggle to get pregnant, it was comforting to have a support system of women who had been there and done that. I often feel as though infertility is treated as a secret that I am trying to keep, and as anyone in my family can attest, I don't do well with secrets. They make me feel claustrophobic. If my friends had chosen to be less open I would probably not have been as open in sharing my frustrations with them. That would have made this difficult experience so much harder. The support of my family and friends has helped me infinitely. Secrecy begets secrecy and I am thankful they chose to break that chain because it helped me.
Did the blogging world really need to know this much about my personal life and struggles? Probably not. The reason I chose to share is that I hope being open will help someone who may be having a similar experience. If nothing else I hope that talking about it will be one more small step forward in removing the stigma attached to infertility.
Infertility is obviously not something that is solely associated with age. I am not infertile because I waited "too long" to have children but rather because I was born with less eggs than most girls, something I am told is a genetic condition. Because of this I will likely enter menopause around 35, something that will bring on a whole host of other health issues. So the simple truth is that infertility is a health issue.
A lot of health insurance plans won't cover IVF or other infertility treatments. I have been lucky so far that all my treatments have been covered but that coverage ends as Jackson and I get ready to start IVF. The reason insurance companies won't cover infertility treatments? There is the argument that having children is a lifestyle choice and not a medical necessity. Personally I struggle with this argument. I was put in this position by way of a genetic abnormality not because I chose to put a certain lifestyle ahead of another. At 24, 25 and 26 I should have and still be able to have children without the need of medical intervention. It's a medical condition that has rendered my ability to become pregnant without medical assistance virtually impossible.
This isn't an easy topic to broach. It is deeply personal and very emotional. Often I end up sobbing when talking about it which embarrasses me to no end. There is a vulnerability that is exposed when talking about infertility that is only compounded by crying, it is a sure way of letting the world know just how deeply you feel the loss. Crying aside, talking about infertility can be awkward. Awkward for me and awkward for you. Many people don't know what to say when talking about infertility and as I told my sister the other day, I am far from equipped for filling awkward silences and pauses.
Almost a year and a half ago when I started to think about seeing a reproductive endocrinologist I found that I was very thankful to my friends who had been open with me about their struggle to get pregnant, it was comforting to have a support system of women who had been there and done that. I often feel as though infertility is treated as a secret that I am trying to keep, and as anyone in my family can attest, I don't do well with secrets. They make me feel claustrophobic. If my friends had chosen to be less open I would probably not have been as open in sharing my frustrations with them. That would have made this difficult experience so much harder. The support of my family and friends has helped me infinitely. Secrecy begets secrecy and I am thankful they chose to break that chain because it helped me.
Did the blogging world really need to know this much about my personal life and struggles? Probably not. The reason I chose to share is that I hope being open will help someone who may be having a similar experience. If nothing else I hope that talking about it will be one more small step forward in removing the stigma attached to infertility.
Monday, February 14, 2011
my censor is broken
I have become the person that causes awkward silences.
My husband and I went to a party this weekend where are game was played. One person would go around trying to guess from clues what the rest of the group was describing. Of course one round the group was to describe "your first born", lovely. My husband was "it" during this round, he went around the room twice and was unable to guess what we were describing, people began making their descriptions more and more obvious. He wasn't getting it. I finally said, "Mine will come from a petri dish." The room went awkwardly silent. He guessed it though, so does that mean I win?
I feel like instances like this are what highlight the fine line we straddle. In conversations I am constantly trying to remember that just because I hurt from not being able to have a baby doesn't mean that the rest of the world has to censor what is going on in their lives to insulate me. On the flip side I get frustrated with people's carelessness. I sit and listen to them complain about pregnancy and their children because that is where they are in life and I don't want to censor them and their experiences. It hurts to listen to it, to the point where I want to retreat from social situations.
The carelessness of this weekend's situation frustrates me, I feel like choosing "your first born child" as the game clue in mixed company is careless. It places me in an unnecessary awkward situation being the only one in the group who is childless and not pregnant. And when the truth about my situation comes out and is met with an awkward silence as a response, I am left feeling frustrated with myself and the situation and socially gauche.
My husband and I went to a party this weekend where are game was played. One person would go around trying to guess from clues what the rest of the group was describing. Of course one round the group was to describe "your first born", lovely. My husband was "it" during this round, he went around the room twice and was unable to guess what we were describing, people began making their descriptions more and more obvious. He wasn't getting it. I finally said, "Mine will come from a petri dish." The room went awkwardly silent. He guessed it though, so does that mean I win?
I feel like instances like this are what highlight the fine line we straddle. In conversations I am constantly trying to remember that just because I hurt from not being able to have a baby doesn't mean that the rest of the world has to censor what is going on in their lives to insulate me. On the flip side I get frustrated with people's carelessness. I sit and listen to them complain about pregnancy and their children because that is where they are in life and I don't want to censor them and their experiences. It hurts to listen to it, to the point where I want to retreat from social situations.
The carelessness of this weekend's situation frustrates me, I feel like choosing "your first born child" as the game clue in mixed company is careless. It places me in an unnecessary awkward situation being the only one in the group who is childless and not pregnant. And when the truth about my situation comes out and is met with an awkward silence as a response, I am left feeling frustrated with myself and the situation and socially gauche.
Friday, February 4, 2011
lucky me
First it is "you are in the 10% of women in their 20's with infertility" then it is "you are in the 1% of women your age with this problem". Lucky me? I'm rare, almost every other woman in this world with declining egg count is over the age of 35. According to one doctor I will be in menopause around 35. On the bright side my periods will stop, but then I will have to do hormone replacement treatments to keep osteoporosis and other things at bay.
When talking to someone about this news they asked, "do you even really want to be having children after 35? We plan on being done by then!" I hadn't ever really given myself a deadline on having children but really the point is that the choice has been taken away from me. I have 9 years to have children, give or take. I have no doubt that some of my friends will still be having children at the time I am going through menopause.
I want children, I want my children. I feel like this possibility is being taken away from me to a degree. Thousands and thousands of dollars will be poured in to trying to preserve what little fertility I have left and I am 26, I am supposed to have plenty of fertility left.
Menopause 15 years early, lucky me. Funnily enough, I don't feel that lucky.
When talking to someone about this news they asked, "do you even really want to be having children after 35? We plan on being done by then!" I hadn't ever really given myself a deadline on having children but really the point is that the choice has been taken away from me. I have 9 years to have children, give or take. I have no doubt that some of my friends will still be having children at the time I am going through menopause.
I want children, I want my children. I feel like this possibility is being taken away from me to a degree. Thousands and thousands of dollars will be poured in to trying to preserve what little fertility I have left and I am 26, I am supposed to have plenty of fertility left.
Menopause 15 years early, lucky me. Funnily enough, I don't feel that lucky.
Monday, January 31, 2011
but are you really infertile
When someone tells me a story of someone they know who was infertile but got "pregs" doing this or that the first time I get a competitive feeling, were they really infertile? Do they really know what it means to feel your hopes get torn apart month after month? Do they know they physical and emotional toll that fertility drugs and infertility in general put on a person? Do they know the slight twinge of pain felt each time a friend or family member announces they are expecting?
I am trying to work on reminding myself that this journey is hard for all women who have to embark on it, not just me. The pain in my heart is so real though. Who ever expects that they will be told at 26 that they will likely reach menopause by 35. 35, what? That is supposed to be the age where I enter the high risk zone, not the age where I start to relate to women in their 50's!
My heart is breaking, I can't stop crying. Having babies isn't supposed to be this hard, not when you are 26. Looking at blogs and facebook has become harder as more friends post about their ups and downs of parenthood. When they post about their frustrations or fleeting anger it takes restraint for me to stop myself from replying, be grateful you have that problem. What I wouldn't give to have that problem. I made my sister feel bad the other day when she said something about having to fly across the country with a baby, I replied saying I wish I had that problem. It made her feel guilty, it made me feel bad because I hurt her.
But my heart is breaking and yet I have to remind myself that it could be worse for me. At least I still have a chance to have my own baby. Something about talking eggs and fertilization and sperm counts takes the magic out of baby making but I have to realize that modern science is magic, it is what is giving me the chance to have children. I promise myself this, if I get that chance, I will be so grateful. I will cherish those moments because they are hard to come by and not all women get them.
I am trying to work on reminding myself that this journey is hard for all women who have to embark on it, not just me. The pain in my heart is so real though. Who ever expects that they will be told at 26 that they will likely reach menopause by 35. 35, what? That is supposed to be the age where I enter the high risk zone, not the age where I start to relate to women in their 50's!
My heart is breaking, I can't stop crying. Having babies isn't supposed to be this hard, not when you are 26. Looking at blogs and facebook has become harder as more friends post about their ups and downs of parenthood. When they post about their frustrations or fleeting anger it takes restraint for me to stop myself from replying, be grateful you have that problem. What I wouldn't give to have that problem. I made my sister feel bad the other day when she said something about having to fly across the country with a baby, I replied saying I wish I had that problem. It made her feel guilty, it made me feel bad because I hurt her.
But my heart is breaking and yet I have to remind myself that it could be worse for me. At least I still have a chance to have my own baby. Something about talking eggs and fertilization and sperm counts takes the magic out of baby making but I have to realize that modern science is magic, it is what is giving me the chance to have children. I promise myself this, if I get that chance, I will be so grateful. I will cherish those moments because they are hard to come by and not all women get them.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Home for the holidays
I went home over the holiday break, it was wonderful to see friends and family. Many of them gave me hugs and told me how often they think and pray for me. It made me feel loved. On the flip side I had to sit through many long conversations about pregnancy, infants and motherhood which hurt. I sat through it, saying as little as possible to help me stop myself from bursting into tears, especially when one friend exclaimed, "this is the first time in years none of us have been pregnant!" A simple, harmless statement that felt like salt in the wound.
I was able to hold all my friends babies without crying, but I did cry in conversations with friends and sobbed my way through asking a dear friend for a recommendation for adoption (apparently I am not ready to complete that process yet).
I am trying not to be upset with myself for losing control emotionally and accept that it is all a part of the experience of infertility.
I was able to hold all my friends babies without crying, but I did cry in conversations with friends and sobbed my way through asking a dear friend for a recommendation for adoption (apparently I am not ready to complete that process yet).
I am trying not to be upset with myself for losing control emotionally and accept that it is all a part of the experience of infertility.
A search for normalcy
All of the less aggressive treatments have failed. I have two options left, IVF and adoption. I am taking several months off all treatments to help myself reload. I had no idea how physically and emotionally testing fertility treatments would be. After spends months on the verge of tears every day, I feel like I am slightly re-claiming myself. The emotions are still there and they are still very real but I can at least control them and not feel like my life is controlled by infertility.
I have also decided it is time to change doctors. I feel really good about this decision, I need a doctor who is paying attention to my treatments and who takes time to explain any complications to me. I have been checking out fertility centers across the US and have found a couple that I am going to check out, I think this will be good to help me feel like I am still being proactive about my situation while not on treatments.
I have a hard time talking about infertility these days. I often feel the need to talk to someone about it but I have a hard time keeping it in balance with other things in my life, I don't want it to be all consuming and the only thing I can talk about. At the same time sometimes it overwhelms me with emotion and I need an outlet.
I am doing better about being able to be happy for those who are pregnant and with children, which I am proud of. At the same time I long for what they have. I have vowed over and over again if I ever do get pregnant I will not complain about it, I will celebrate the fact that I GET the chance to have that experience. I do feel that to an extent I will be able to appreciate it more because I know so well the pain associated with not being able to get pregnant and longing for it.
I have also decided it is time to change doctors. I feel really good about this decision, I need a doctor who is paying attention to my treatments and who takes time to explain any complications to me. I have been checking out fertility centers across the US and have found a couple that I am going to check out, I think this will be good to help me feel like I am still being proactive about my situation while not on treatments.
I have a hard time talking about infertility these days. I often feel the need to talk to someone about it but I have a hard time keeping it in balance with other things in my life, I don't want it to be all consuming and the only thing I can talk about. At the same time sometimes it overwhelms me with emotion and I need an outlet.
I am doing better about being able to be happy for those who are pregnant and with children, which I am proud of. At the same time I long for what they have. I have vowed over and over again if I ever do get pregnant I will not complain about it, I will celebrate the fact that I GET the chance to have that experience. I do feel that to an extent I will be able to appreciate it more because I know so well the pain associated with not being able to get pregnant and longing for it.
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