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:

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.