Mixed Bag Of Rant

I feel like such a sham.

Here I am. Two gorgeous babies. Writing about infertility.

I mean… who am I to tell anyone to resolve to know more about infertility?

I am a success story. 

However, I am the success story that every infertile hates. I am the one who was told after losing a tube and an ovary to endometriosis and a remaining ovary with a large endometrial cyst on it that I would not be having any more babies. That I should count my blessings that I even got one child out of this deal given how messed up my innards were. I was crushed by this diagnosis. After agonizing over and coming to the decision that we wanted to do IVF and then being told we couldn’t? This was the end of the road? I was devastated. I began thanking God that my son was in this world. I had him. I was a mom. I was good. I posted this post for National Infertility Awareness Week a year ago: My Story: National Infertility Awareness Week- Join the Movement!

3 weeks later. I posted this:

A Miracle Announcement

I will never ever forget that day. A moment I thought I would never see again. A positive pregnancy test. The thrill. The fear. A barrage of mixed emotions that cannot be described with words. Even worse?

This was an oopsie.

You see, when you’re told you’re done having kids there is no birth control. There is no calendar checking. No ovulation tests. No checking of your CM (however… when you’ve gone through a combined 6+ years of infertility this one just becomes second nature whether it means anything or not). You just… love. Who would have ever thought there was a reason to have sex besides procreation? You infertiles will understand what I’m talking about here.

Us infertiles, we both despise and envy those who have unplanned pregnancies. We can’t even fathom what it would be like to take a test and go, “Oh shit! I’m pregnant!” Infertility consumes us. We test endlessly. We see doctors who see all of us. You learn not to have any shame over how many people have seen your goods.

I never, EVER expected to have an oopsie pregnancy in my lifetime after dealing with so many years of infertility. Having an oopsie after being told it was impossible? I immediately felt like a traitor to my infertile people.

I wish I could tell you the reasons why I got pregnant. I wish I could say it was some kind of pill I took or something I ate. I wish I could say it was from IUI or IVF. I honestly wish there was a reason. I know there is no magic potion. Let’s face it, getting pregnant is luck- even for those who don’t have a known infertility issue.

I feel as though I no longer have the right to write about infertility.

However, I do want to write about my experience because if I am able to give even ONE person who suffers from infertility some faith and some hope, then I have done some good. Even though I ended up being one of “those” people with the oopsie BFP, I have been there. I have been childless with a desire beyond words to be a mom. I have had secondary infertility. I have had crushing, awful test results.

So yeah, I get it. I really do.

There are ways to help. There are ways to GET help. There are so many out there who understand and so many more who NEED to understand this sad disease. For more information on how you can help and resolve to know more about infertility, visit www.resolve.org.

My loves. My cup runneth over:

I have never kept it a secret- I am was an infertile. I struggled through 2.5 years to conceive my son. I was also told I would never be able to have another child after him. My infertile friends- I have been there. I know the sadness. I know the emptiness. I KNOW. Yes, I would get pissed when I would hear a pregnant woman complain about her pregnancy discomforts. I would get pissed when anyone had to leave early or take time off because of their kids. I was quite bitter for a long time. Then, something happened. My husband and I made the decision to just live, be satisfied and be grateful for our great life together. When we got pregnant with Jackson, sure, we were trying to conceive (ovulation kits, vitamins, calendars… yadda yadda yadda), but it was no longer the be all, end all. We were satisfied with our life no matter what.

Being that I have lived through the hurt and sadness of infertility and loss, I always swore that if I ever got pregnant I wouldn’t complain about it. If there is one thing I have learned out of my one and a half pregnancies, it is that I don’t do pregnancy well and damn right, I have complained. Probably even more so the second time around.

Being a pregnant whiner, I feel like a complete and utter failure to the infertile world.

Despite how I often dreamed of having the beautiful big belly and that I would feel like part of some exclusive club, it is not all butterflies and roses. I cannot for the life of me enjoy the following:

• The constant worry that something could go wrong.
• Obsessive TP checks in the 1st trimester.
• Relentless morning sickness with no end in sight and not enough PTO or sick time to cover it 
• Vomiting. Nuff said. 
• Constant overwhelming exhaustion that easily rivals finals week during college.
• Peeing every 20 minutes or when you least expect to like sneezing, coughing or shifting positions in your chair. Also the having to pee in the middle of the night thing. I really try to ignore it because I treasure my sleep, but it is painfully impossible. 
• Excruciating pain in which I can only describe as what it feels like to have been hit by a baseball bat in the vagina. Over and over again. 
• Weight gain. And a lot of it. Whether I like it or not.
• Not being able to poop. Is this to prepare us for childbirth? 
• The uncontrollable emotional roller coaster. No really. There’s no control. One moment I’m as happy as can be and the next I am sobbing uncontrollably. And I’m sorry to those affected on a daily basis. 
• Uncontrollable burping and farting. Seriously. How gross am I?? I’m so gross. And now I’m crying about it. 
• Heartburn. Jackson likes to make comments on my mommy candy (a.k.a. Tums) and that they smell good. (Really buddy? They don’t taste as good as they smell). 
• It’s going to be 98 degrees today. And no I’m not talking about Nick Lachey. With a heat index of 105, my feet are going to turn into club feet with a Tempurpedic-type quality and may never go back until weeks after giving birth. P.S. Flip flops are not acceptable with my work dress code. 

• A posterior placenta: What does this mean? The placenta is towards the back which means I get to feel movement ALL THE TIME. I know some women find the kicking to drive them nuts, but it is the one singular thing I adore about pregnancy. Girlfriend can kick me all day long and I will love every second of it. 
• My pregnant belly. It is my badge of honor in a world darkened by infertility. It is the only time I am proud to look huge. 
• I’m having a little girl. A GIRL! In a male dominated family, I feel ridiculously blessed to be having a daughter. It’s always been a dream of mine to have a boy and a girl. Yeah, yeah… the grass is not always greener on the other side and they could end up hating each other, but at least in my fantasy world, they are perfection no matter what. 
• Feeling complete. It’s one thing to say, “I’m only having one kid,” and have that be your choice. It’s another to have someone tell you, “You will only be able to have one kid.” I felt guilty for feeling like Jackson wasn’t enough, God knows he is enough kid for about 10, but it just FELT like something was missing. Having this chance means our family is complete and whole. 
• Jackson is super stoked to have a little sister and it warms my heart when he tells me he is excited to meet her. 

So even though I have complained endlessly about how miserable I feel, I have not forgotten the good things about it. I have also not forgotten what it felt like to be infertile. I have not forgotten the baby I lost back in 2006. 

It’s just… hard. I always want to be the best I can be for everyone- my husband, my son, my boss, my team. I physically cannot be my best right now. I struggle with losing the two years of running training I put in. I struggle with having to start over with my weight loss after this little girl shows up. I want to lie and say it is easy and the best time of my life. I want so badly to love pregnancy, but I just can’t.

The truth is, I just want her here. In my arms. Regardless of how miserable I am, all I want is for the next 127 (give or take a few) days to go quickly because I cannot wait to be her mama.

Here are some back-logged belly pics…

21 Weeks

22 weeks- side profile (Bad hair. Thanks weather)

22 weeks. Still rockin’ the heels.

Just for fun… and because it makes me feel better about how I look now compared to 5 years ago (because I have been having some very major body image issues), here are some pics from when I was pregnant with Jackson:

In Bora Bora- 20 weeks pregnant

Bora Bora- 20 weeks

My baby shower (and funny husband)- 33 weeks

Every year during NIAW (National Infertility Awareness Week), I retell my story. In many ways it is therapeutic, but it is also a chance for me to bring awareness to a world that largely doesn’t understand what it is like to live with infertility. It serves as a chance to let those who suffer from it know that they are most definitely not alone.

My Story:
I always wanted to have a family. Always. When I married my husband in 2005, we wanted to waste no time in starting our family. We got pregnant just 5 months after we started trying; however, it ended quickly in an early miscarriage at just 6.5 weeks. I was crushed. We were given no answers other than, “Miscarriage is common. So sorry.” We kept trying. And trying… and trying. After 2 years of testing and fertility drugs still nothing. My doctor had chalked it up to Unexplained Infertility as they could find nothing specific that could be the cause. IVF was just too expensive not to mention I hated the fertility drugs, so it just didn’t feel like an option. We left things up to fate. We chose to move on with our lives.

I would love to say that we stopped “trying”. Of course, I didn’t. In a weird way, following my cycles, taking ovulation tests on top of numerous supplements pretty much became a part of life after two years. I was on my 3rd month of FertilAid when to my shock, a second line started showing up on my cheapo tests. I was sort of in disbelief. I had seen phantom lines many times before so I didn’t say anything to my husband. I kept testing (see this post), and when that digital test said “pregnant” on it, I knew that it wasn’t a fluke. We were skeptical. Not wanting to get exited. Not wanting to be disappointed. How were we supposed to feel? My doctor was fantastic. After my long history of infertility, she allowed us to be considered high risk. We were able to get an early ultrasound as part of our pregnancy confirmation appointment and we tested my beta numbers every other day for a week. We continued to be nervous until about the 12th week and then became a little more confident that this might actually happen for us. We finally were able to say: we are going to be parents!

My Jackson Robert

On September 11, 2008 our miracle, the love my life, Jackson Robert was born. I would never know a love more amazing and more powerful than the love I have for my son. Nobody could be more wanted. I hope I can tell him someday how much we went through to bring him into the world.

I would love to say that we kept popping out babies, but that is not the case. Secondary infertility became a reality. I developed fibroids about a year after having Jackson. In 2010 I had surgery to have them removed. Still no luck. No magic. No miracles. Over the next year, my monthly “pain” worsened. But it wasn’t typical. It felt different. In April 2011, I had a burst of pain and I became very ill. My doctor discovered that I had an ovarian cyst rupture. We attempted to treat the cyst with hormones, but ultimately scheduled a surgery to have it removed via laproscopic procedure. I woke up in recovery, groggy and in pain, my doctor delivered the news that she had to remove my ovary and my tube. The cyst had wrapped around my ovary and was sticking to various organs. This was more crushing news to my chances of having a sibling for my son. We also discovered at this time that I had stage 4 endometriosis. The lesions had been removed, but there was no guarantee that it wouldn’t come back.

Last fall, my husband and I decided that we would consider IVF to try and have baby #2. I wasn’t thrilled about the drugs, the appointments or the procedure, but I really wanted to complete our family. I wanted this for Jackson. For us. I didn’t even make it past the baseline testing. I currently have multiple cysts on my remaining ovary. While they have remain unchanged since last November and we don’t have an immediate need to remove them, they have all but destroyed any chances of having another baby.

We discussed adoption and to my amazement, my husband is actually on board with this. Since our first round of infertility, we didn’t really think this was a route we would want to take, so I was surprised when he was open to it. However… I am overwhelmed by the whole process and it scares me. I don’t want to be let down. There is also my age consideration. I turn 37 next week. If the process takes longer than expected, do I really want a new baby at my age? Would it really enhance my son’s life to have a sibling 5-6 years younger than him? So many questions in my head and in my heart.

We have chosen to accept our little family as is. We love our son and everything we do is for him. He is enough. We are enough.

My beautiful little family

We are okay.

Join The Movement!
So, you have heard my story. Whether or not you have had to endure infertility yourself, you can help. Maybe you know someone who is going through it. You can help. You can be a part of the movement. You can help by just learning and understanding.

You can become educated. Did you know?

• Infertility affects 1 in 8 couples of reproductive age
• There are many ways to build a family
• The disease of infertility impacts the physical, emotional and financial health of those facing it
• Those trying to conceive should know when to seek advice from a specialist. 

Become a part of it and help those of us struggling with infertility gain the support we need from our elected officials to make our family building dreams a success.

This subject is a raw and emotional subject for me. It has affected my life, my marriage and my family. Now, if I have convinced even just one person to Join The Movement, then that gives me and all others that suffer through infertility just a little piece of hope.

To learn more about Infertility and NIAW: 
Basic Understanding of the Disease of Infertility 
About National Infertility Awareness Week (NIAW)

Well, my friends. After picking off all of my nail polish (nervous habit), I have the results of my preliminary ultrasound.

It was not good news.

My remaining ovary has a blood filled cyst. Basically, instead of my follicle releasing an egg, mine fills with blood. It was the same thing that happened to my other ovary and we didn’t find the issue until it ruptured and I became very ill. What does this mean for my fertility? It means it is gone. Game over. My OB wants to do another ultrasound, pre-ovulation, to see exactly what is going on, but that is just to determine what our next steps are. Most likely, it will mean a hysterectomy as we have really covered all the other bases and I don’t not want to take BCP’s. I’m about to turn 37 in 5 short months so really, there isn’t much left fertility-wise to try and preserve not to mention, if you take my remaining ovary, is there any reason to preserve anything else? A hysterectomy is pretty much a done deal.

To say I am crushed about this diagnosis is an understatement.

However, I kept my composure with my doctor. She complimented me on the vast change in my weight, said I looked gorgeous, and promised me I have so much to look forward to including raising the beautiful boy I so miraculously was able to have four years ago. I thanked her and quickly ran to my car where I sobbed. Once I collected myself, I called my husband to give him the news. He wasn’t entirely surprised; however, I don’t think he was as much invested as I was in having another baby. He was worried about me and my health and the health of my potential unborn child. There were so many risks and that scared him, so for him, this might actually be a relief with the exception of my impending surgery. I love him so desperately for wanting to take care of me.

This diagnosis doesn’t exactly come as a shock. I knew there was a ghost of a chance with this being the most likely outcome. At least I have closure. The 2 1/2 years I spent trying to conceive Jackson were the worst. I had all the tests done and they could not find anything wrong with either me or my husband. Unexplained infertility is awful because there is no closure, no answers. I would much rather have this answer and not have to wait around with any false hope. While the answer sucks, at least I know the truth.

Top off my day with my kiddo having a double ear infection and not wanting anything to do with taking his medicine (I kid you not… we tried every trick in the book to no avail), him getting really pissed off at me,  telling me he hates me and I had a break down. I sobbed through Dora. I sobbed when he finally gave me a hug goodnight and said, “I love you too Mommy.” I didn’t get it together until I read an email from one of my dearest friends and finally, a smile emerged from my broken, tear-stained face. How grateful am I to be surrounded by people who never fail to pick me up when I am down!

But, you know me. Nothing can keep me down for long. So, I have dusted the sad away. We have the closure we need to be able to move forward with our lives. No looking back. No “what ifs”. No regrets. Our family is complete and we are at peace.

Before I begin this post, I want to explain why I am sharing this extremely personal experience with the entire universe. I feel like infertility is a taboo subject. Most women find it too personal and too painful to talk about. I feel that way too in many ways, but I also want other women who may be going through the same thing to know: YOU ARE NOT ALONE. We don’t have to suffer in silence. We have each other.

I went in for my annual appointment with my OB. For most women this is a routine annoyance in their day. The appointment that every woman hates. Go ahead, ladies. Tell me you actually ENJOY this appointment!

This appointment was far from routine for me. I knew I was going to ask her about having another baby. I knew the answer may not be what I want to hear. I was on edge. My blood pressure was through the roof. I was nervous.

So I got around to telling my doc that we really want to have a second baby and I literally LOL’d when she said, “So what do you want to do, wing it?” Ummmm… Let’s see. It took 2.5 years to conceive Jackson. We have been trying on and off for FOUR YEARS for this one. I think I’ve been winging it long enough. Not to mention, this woman did surgery on me. Took my tube. Took my ovary. I’m thirty freaking six years old. There will be no winging it for me. She kind of apologized and said she in no way sees me as 36 with limited years of fertility left (if any). Which I guess is a compliment? Thanks for not calling me an old hag? I’ll take it.

I will spare you the details of the exam, but I will tell you, the results were not entirely good. My remaining ovary is swollen. I have tenderness. What does that mean? It means the endo is winning. So what happens next? My OB will do the baseline studies to check and see if I have a viable ovary. I have an ultrasound scheduled for next week to make sure that my remaining ovary does not have a growing endometrioma (ovarian cyst). If I do? It’s game over. My ovary will likely need to be removed and I will need to proceed with a full hysterectomy.

If everything looks okay, then we will move to the next phase which consists of a follicle study which is basically a series of ultrasounds to see if my ovary is functioning correctly leading up to ovulation. If all looks good, we will schedule a lap surgery to remove any endo and I will then be referred to a fertility specialist to proceed with IVF.

If it seems like a lot to go through, you’re right. It is. Then why? In a promise to myself, I want to live my life without regret. I know if I don’t take the steps to try and complete our family, I will always wonder, what if?  I have to try.

Even if I end up without a baby, I will know in my heart I did everything I could. Plus, I will feel good about taking control of my own health. Pushing my doctors to use their knowledge to find a solution. Not settling for the answer “You’ll just have to live with it.” That isn’t good enough for me.

So until I get a more definitive answer, I will continue to stay positive and keep the faith.

I think Jackson would prefer a playmate that actually interacts with him.

I have been compiling in my head all of the many reasons why I want Jackson to have a sibling. Compiling the reasons why I would be crazy enough to want another baby. In my head, the pros outweigh the cons. Most women are able to say, “I want another baby!” and WHAM they are pregnant. It doesn’t work that way for me. I am missing half the plumbing not to mention, I suffer from a debilitating disease that has caused years of pain and infertility. My only hope to complete my family and fulfill my dreams is to go through IVF for baby #2.

There are however a lot of reasons not to do it and these are my rebuttals.

Let’s start with the whole health thing. In my head, the pros outweigh the cons by a mile. You know… no biggie. If I try to have another baby I’ll either miscarry or destroy my womanhood forever (which was bound to happen whether I tried to have another baby or not). So from a health perspective alone (let’s not discuss the mental anguish that goes with having a miscarriage), I may as well give this another go, yes? One of the biggest factors I didn’t attempt IVF for baby #1 is because of my weight. BMI supposedly plays a big factor in the IVF process. I believe it is recommended to have a BMI under 30 to increase success. Regardless of that BMI number (which I think is kind of a load of crap anyway), I am 1,000 times healthier than I was when I was TTC the first time around and now have a healthy BMI of 25 to boot. I have to believe that will make a difference.

Finances. IVF is fucking expensive yo. I sat down and thought about my next new car which I am due for in a couple years. Now, if I can afford a Lexus, I can afford to make a baby. Period. No doubt, it is painful to think about the expense of getting pregnant when others are so easily able to get knocked up at no cost at all. The truth is, the cost is an excuse. I do have some funds available through insurance. The majority of IVF is not covered, but I may be able to use it for some tests and drugs. Beyond that, there is always financing available. I simply cannot use money as an excuse not to try this.

Sibling rivalry. What if Jack and his new brother/sister end up hating each other? I hope that is not the case, but I am willing to take the chance that it will work out for the best. Jack has expressed his interest more than once about his desire for a brother or sister and his apparent confusion as to why his friends have one and he doesn’t. It breaks my heart. I honestly believe that he will be a great big brother and great helper for his mom and dad. I have gotten “the grass isn’t always greener on the other side” argument about keeping Jack an only child; however, despite the years of aggression my sister and I had for each other growing up, I wouldn’t have traded it for anything as we are close now as adults. I don’t want the fear of rivalry to dictate this choice.

Fertility Drugs. IVF requires a number of drugs to be taken, injected or whatever other means they intend to make eggs and babies. My history with fertility drugs is not a positive one. As is the case with most prescription medication, I am highly sensitive to them. If they list a side effect, I will likely experience it. There is also the weight gain that comes with the drugs. If it doesn’t work out, I’m left with an extra very unwanted 10-20 pounds and no baby. After my ridiculous amount of hard work over the last 2 years to lose weight, this does not excite me. If it DOES work out… I’ll be having a BABY and that will include some extra pounds anyway (although… this time around, I will hopefully have the willpower to pass up on my cravings for Burger King burgers). It’s worth a little bit of weight gain and a little bit of crazy to get my 2nd baby in my arms.

I recently got the chance to chat with an adult who was born from IVF back in the 80’s. He discovered me and my blog via Twitter and wanted to share his story with me. He provided me with a great deal of inspiration to add to my many reasons not to give up. He said, knowing what his mom had to go through to bring him into the world gives him purpose. I love that and heck if I don’t want to meet this guy’s mama- she sounds awesome. But it is so true- women who go through treatment or adoption to have a baby go to the ends of the earth to bring their babies into their hearts and into this world. It leaves little room for doubt- these babies are MEANT to be here.

With all of this said, it is not an easy decision. It will affect my mind, my body and my family. I may not get the answer I want to hear. I may be wheeled in a week later to have a full hysterectomy. Regardless, what I need the most in my infertility chapter is true closure. Not a list of stats. A simple yes or no will do.

Five years ago, I got a call from one of my dearest friends. After struggling with infertility, going through treatment, multiple miscarriages they were in fact, finally (yes, I’m throwing out the “f” word infertiles) pregnant. I was so, so happy for her. But I will confess, painfully jealous. I cried a lot that night. Cried out of happiness for my friend who got her miracle. Cried for myself because mine hadn’t arrived yet. Once I got that cry out of my system, I knew it was time. Time to let go. Time to move on and be happy not just for myself, but for my friend whom I knew would be an amazing mama.

My husband and I let go. We decided that it was time to let go of the notion that we would be parents and embrace our life as dual income, no kids people. After letting go of the stress of trying to get pregnant and month after month of BFN’s, we actually started to enjoy our marriage and our life. We made plans to travel. We even joked about opening an Applebees-esque restaurant & bar where children wouldn’t be allowed. Yeah. We were “those” people.

I chuckle. Several weeks after a night of pretty heavy boozing, trips to both Mexico & Tahiti on the calendar, I ended up being one of those fertile people I loathed. Infertiles, you know of whom I speak. I will never under any circumstances say that it happened because I “relaxed”. I got a BFP. No rhyme. No reason. Just a miracle.

My Ridiculously Cute Miracle Baby

Well, a couple weeks ago, that same dear friend invited me out for drinks and dropped the bomb that they are miraculously pregnant with their 2nd baby. They went through all the stages- deciding that having one child was okay. Deciding to try again. Deciding not to try again. Looking into adoption. Passing on adoption. Looking into IVF. No medication. No rhyme. No reason. Just a miracle. Amazing.

Upon the announcement of their news, I got the slew of “Are you okay?” emails from mutual friends and family. You know what my answer was and still is? I AM FINE!! Actually, I love it. I loved their news so much that I got choked up not feeling sorry for myself for once, but truly, for them. I am so overwhelmingly happy for them. I am thrilled they give infertility a big FUCK YOU.

Miracles are real. My friend and I will share that bond always. Our miracle babies. We feel so blessed it is ridiculous.

Our Miracle Babies. We love that they are buds.

When I lost my left ovary and tube a year ago, I was all but told to forget about visions of another miracle baby. I was given scary statistics about a 60% miscarriage rate for someone with my condition, not to mention how hard it would be to get pregnant with one ovary in the first place and a questionable one at that. Being my stubborn self, the answer wasn’t a flat out NO, so I never really got any closure.

Despite this crushing diagnosis, the idea of a 2nd baby still haunts me. I see how good Jack is with his younger cousins. I think he would be an amazing big brother. I have found it hard to adjust to the idea of him being an only child yet often find myself thinking I’m crazy for thinking I could handle another. I even had a random dream a couple weeks ago that I had a daughter. Her name was Katie. My Kate.

So I’m just going to confess, right here, right now: I want another child. So much so that my husband and I had the conversation about taking the steps into IVF. I’m going to have another discussion with my doctor and start there. Perhaps she doesn’t want to touch my situation, which heck, I couldn’t blame her. I will then ask her for a referral for a RE and take this to the next level. I want this. Not out of jealousy of my friend. Not just for me and my husband. FOR JACKSON. He deserves a chance to be a big brother. If I get another “no way in hell” answer from a specialist, then I will accept my fate. I will be okay. We will be okay.

At least I will know that I tried.

Don’t Ignore The Heartache of Infertility.

When I heard that Resolve.org had a blog challenge on how to bring attention to infertility, I flip flopped on whether or not to participate. Let’s face it. I have made more than my fair share of comments on the subject. I have gone through the stages of grief and feel as though I have finally come to the acceptance phase of my  infertility.

Why would I want to dredge this up again? Because it matters. Because there is hope. Because it is real. Because I’m tired of infertility being ignored.

My Miracle Baby: Jackson Robert

As I read back the posts during my early days of TTC, I am reminded of why I started this blog in the first place. I started it to rant about my issues getting pregnant. Rant about the people who got pregnant so easily. Rant about why this has to happen to someone like me. Rant about why infertility has to happen to anyone. Rant about how expensive the treatment is for a disease that affects 1 in 8 couples of reproductive age. My husband and I wanted to have a family right away and didn’t waste any time in getting started. While I didn’t think getting pregnant would be a piece of cake, I had NO idea how frustrating and heartbreaking it would be. We got pregnant quickly after just 5 months of trying, but it was a pregnancy that sadly ended in an early miscarriage. For the next 2.5 years we tried. Every month, the same empty pregnancy test. The same tears. The same frustrations. Not wanting to endure anymore infertility treatment, we started to come to terms that having a family may not be in the cards for us. In late January 2008, our prayers were answered: I was pregnant. Looking at how extensive my endometriosis is, we have no idea how or why we got pregnant. We don’t ask questions anymore. We just thank God every day for Jackson Robert, our healthy little miracle. 3.5 years later, I still stare at my son in wonder. Despite Jack’s adoration of little babies and my deep desire to have another, I was told in not so many words by my doctor: “You will not be able to get pregnant again.”

Even though I have accepted my fate, I have not forgotten. I have not forgotten about the loss, the anguish and the heartbreak. I have not forgotten how expensive infertility is and not just emotionally, but the pocketbook as well. 6 years ago, I was lucky to have even a small amount of infertility coverage on my insurance. It was enough to get through the basic testing. Enough for a few rounds of Clomid. Enough for a couple rounds of HCG shots. Today, my infertility coverage is ZERO. My husband and I actually joked that if we won the MegaMillions lottery that we would finally be able to afford to have another child. We could hire a surrogate and even genetically engineer the perfect daughter (yes, I still dream of what it would be like to have a little girl). Guess what, we didn’t win. Perhaps if we had caught the endo sooner… so many what ifs that are just too late.

Our Miracle Babies

I know I am not alone in my infertility battle and that makes me sad. It makes me sad that anyone else has to go though this agony. One of my dearest and oldest college friends has been beside me in the war against infertility. She suffers from PCOS and also requires expensive medical treatments in order to get pregnant. She has suffered multiple miscarriages. She miraculously was able to have one little boy, the same age as mine. It’s like it was meant to be. Like me, she has had to accept that she will only ever have one child. We will forever have to explain to the world why- a question I dread. We both agree that our miracle babies are more than enough for us and WE ARE BLESSED. 

Deep in my heart, I really can’t let go of the thought of having another miracle baby. It happened once, it can happen again. Right? My goal this year was to at a minimum stop taking birth control pills that I have been taking to control the spread of my endometriosis. I am hoping that my weight loss will have helped. PRAYING that my weight loss has helped. The pills have been nothing short of awful. Mood swings. Breakthrough bleeding (yeah… TMI. Sorry..). Last summer following an ovarian cyst rupture (caused by none other than endometriosis) I am now down an ovary as it had to be removed so I know my shot at getting pregnant is low. My ongoing endometriosis makes it even lower not to mention the ridiculously high risk of miscarriage (upwards of 60%). The odds are not in my favor, yet I still dream of it. I still get jealous when I hear of anyone being pregnant, but at the same time, I still want to hear all about it. Talk about mixed emotions.

For National Infertility Week I am not going to ignore my infertility. I won’t hide. I’m going to scream to the world that it exists and tell everyone not to ignore it. I want to thank organizations such as Resolve.org for giving infertile couples hope that miracles do exist and for giving all of us who are infertile a voice to say THIS IS REAL and that other family planning options do exist. Is there something you can do? The answer is a resounding YES. Learn more about it. Support your friends that are suffering from infertility. Don’t try and tell them you understand if you don’t, so please make sure you educate yourself on the disease. Sometimes saying a simple “I’m sorry you have to endure this,” is enough.

Lastly, if you’ve stuck with me this long, I want to take a moment to remember my angel baby who I lost 6 years ago. Dear baby bean: My heart will never forget and you are always in it little one. I know you are there to watch over my earth baby and keep him safe. I will see you in my dreams, angel. This song is for you:

Daughtry, “Gone Too Soon”

Today could have been the day
that you blow out your candles
make a wish as you close your eyes.
Today could have been the day
everybody was laughin’
instead I just sit here and cry.

Who would you be?
What would you look like
when you looked at me for the very first time?
Today could’ve been the next day of the rest of your life.

Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you.
I’m always asking why this crazy world had to lose
such a ray of light we never knew.
Gone too soon.

Would you have been president?
Or a painter, an author or sing like your mother.
One thing is evident,
would’ve given all I had
would’ve loved ya like no other.

Who would you be?
What would you look like?
Would you have my smile and her eyes?
Today could have been the next day of the rest of your life.

Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you.
I’m always asking why this crazy world had to lose
such a beautiful life we never knew.
Gone too soon. You were gone too soon, yeah.

99% of the time I am at peace with my infertility.

I am okay that my one little boy, my miracle, will be my only child.

Then, that sneaky little 1% slithers in and my heart breaks into a thousand pieces. Many moms (especially 1st time moms) already have their canned answer for the question, “When will you have another?” I always thought I would have 2 kids. I never imagined raising an only child and always wanted a perfect little happy family. If I was lucky, a boy and a girl.

Those who have struggled with infertility get it. The frustration. The desperation. The hurt. The feeling that something critical is missing in your life. Make no mistake, I take nothing for granted when it comes to my son. I remember being pregnant like it was yesterday. I think I sometimes still feel the ghost kicks in my tummy. But, finally being able to get pregnant once, I got a little cocky. I figured it would be easy the 2nd time around. I did this once, I can do it again, right?

I had no idea how wrong I would be.

Even before my surgery this year to remove what I thought was just going to be a little endo scarring and an ovarian cyst, my husband and I made the decision that we would be done. This would be our choice and not the choice of a doctor or my body. We didn’t want to have to endure two years of not seeing 2 lines on those damn tests. We didn’t want to go through another miscarriage. We didn’t want to spend the money on extreme fertility treatments. We were done.

I had no idea how final those words would be.

Waking up from surgery, my doctor came up to me with the sympathy face and in my haze, even I understood when she said they had to take the ovary that our decision was now set in stone. Being down an ovary, the damage caused by the endometriosis and the risk of its return if I am untreated determined my sentence.

Those who do not know what happened to my poor battered insides still ask the question, “When are you going to give Jack a sibling?” Or make comments such as, “Wow, that boy needs a brother or sister to play with.” Then there are those who know what happened and still have the audacity to ask, “Well you still have one good ovary, right?” Um. It’s not just an ovary issue, it’s an endo issue. So, as “at peace” as I like to think I am with our fate, the questions still sting. They are constant reminders of how I can’t have any more children and there are no other alternatives (at least ones that normal people like us can afford).

I try to recall and hang onto every moment with Jackson, all the way back to my pregnancy. I’ll never get to experience any of it again and I never want to let go of how magical it all is. Being a mom is amazing and I feel so lucky to get the chance to be one at all.

So before you open your mouth to ask a mom any of the above-mentioned questions, try to remember that not every woman is a child making machine like Michelle Duggar and think about how deeply personal that question actually is.

Since 2006, I have blogged about my struggles with infertility, miscarriage and the miracle that is my baby boy Jackson.

Once we got pregnant with Jackson, there was never really any doubt about our desire to have a second baby. We got cocky in thinking that it would be easy to make it happen again. As Jack gets older, we have flip flopped on whether or not to keep trying. It has been at least a year and a half since we started (kind of half-assed) on baby #2 but as my age and my dwindling fertility looms, we have pretty much resigned to the fact that Jack may be our one and only.

Since Jack was born, I have had some issues with my body. Besides my weight (which of course CAN be changed and I am working on it no matter how many obstacles are thrown in my path), I had a uterine infection right after he was born (tons of fun to have with a newborn to care for), and a year later in 2009 my doctor discovered fibroids and a uterine polyp which had me in a boatload of pain and led to a hysteroscopy and D & C to have them removed. While I hoped that the polyps and fibroids would keep their distance, much to my dismay, they are back and wreaking havoc on my poor body. With the recurrence of this issue, I know my chances of successfully conceiving a baby are becoming minimal and I cannot even imagine having to endure another miscarriage.

While I was weighing the pros and cons of having a second child, I felt empowered that it was MY choice. I’m not liking the fact that the choice is being taken away from me. There is a part of me that wants to fight my age, my polyps, my fibroids and give infertility a swift kick in the rear; however, the other part of me is just tired of the fight after all these years. Is it time to permanently fix my issues and just move on?

I’ll never know for sure how we were able to conceive Jackson (well… I KNOW, but… well, you know what I mean). Divine intervention? Fluke? When I look at him, I know that he is and will forever be my miracle child. We will always make sure he knows that having only him will always be more than enough for us. We will see to it that he is surrounded by family and friends who will become his brothers and sisters. We will make sure that he has the best life ever.