Most of you, my faithful readers, know the heavy burden that has been placed on Bobby's & my life. It's my most hated word in the world... infertility. Just to give some new folks a quick update, we began our first attempt at becoming parents in early 2006 hoping for the sought-after "seminary graduation baby." I worked all 4 years while Bobby was in seminary and we decided that it was best for our family that I keep working and then when the end (graduation) finally neared, we were so excited when we could finally bring a child into our happy little family. (yes, unlike others I do think that husband & wife are a family, so we "started our family" on the day we got married.) Well, it didn't happen right away and we started getting a little anxious so I made an appointment with my doctor to start testing and before we got that far, I finally got pregnant. After 8 long months. (which seems like a drop in the pan now...) We got to experience a joy like I never felt before in my life (our lives.) I got to go to a baby shower that same day I found out and actually felt like I "fit in" with everyone else (even though no one knew at that point.) It was a couple weeks before Christmas so we told our immediate families and never felt prouder, but all along I felt anxious. Excited, but very nervous at the same time.
The joy ended a couple days later when I went for my first ultrasound and the technician told me that the baby was a couple weeks behind where it should be 5 1/2 weeks, rather than 7 1/2. She told me not to worry, but I knew. Bobby told me not to worry, but I knew. Everyone told me not to worry, but I knew. And within a week, it was over. We lost the baby. The greatest joy of my life turned into the greatest devastation I have ever felt.
Everyone tried to help by telling me that things would be ok... I got pregnant once, it will happen again.
It's been 2 1/2 years.
In that time, Bobby graduated, we moved to a new state, began new jobs, started over, began a new life, turned over a new leaf, all those meaningless expressions. Everyone said it would happen again. And yet it hasn't.
Fed up with everything, we finally gave into the idea of seeking medical help. We found a really good specialist back in late summer last year. We've tried all the easy options, and not so easy ones, mostly oral medications, a few nasty injections, a lot of ultrasounds, and a ton of money. A couple months ago I had a somewhat invasive test done and my doctor found some complications. We really don't know what they are exactly at this point, but hopefully we will get some more answers when I have a surgical procedure done this Friday. It's not major surgery, but I'm still quite nervous. Moreso with the possible outcomes than the actual procedure though. Afraid that I will get news that our chances are hopeless.
I know I shouldn't have this attitude. I know I'm still fairly young, and healthy, and have no real reason to give up hope at this point. Besides, remember, I still did get pregnant once. I should be able to do it again. Right? If only it were that easy.
In short, this has been the worst trial I have ever had to deal with in my life. I know that is a good sign that I've had a good life. And I have. I really have had a great life. Great family, loving parents, good friends along the way. Awesome husband. But this has been my greatest longing in life, and to not be able to have it has really brought a lot of devastation and heartbreak to both of us. I have not been open about this topic to most people - specifically our church and even on here (until now) and I'm not sure why. Probably because it's a stigma (there's something wrong with us) and because I can't ever seem to talk about the subject without crying. And partly denial. If I pretend it's not there, maybe it will go away?
It won't. No matter how hard I try to fill my life with other things, the void and sadness is always there. Being married to Bobby and caring for my critters bring me so much joy, but I can't help but know that I'm not giving all of myself to them (and everyone else.) I don't feel like a whole person. I want to be a mother. I should be a mother. And because I'm not, I don't feel like a whole person. I know the people around me suffer because of it. And for that I'm sorry.
If you made it to the end of this post, please pray for me on Friday. Not sure of the time yet, probably around noon. Thank you.