Sometimes love just isn't enough....

They say it is better to have loved and lost to never have loved at all.  I’m guessing whoever "they" is that thought they were so clever to say this never dealt with infertility or the loss that occurs when you lose a child.  I suppose that person has never gone from a place of extreme happiness to an all-time low.  And I suppose that person has never had to tell your husband who you have been ttc with for 12 years that you just experienced a chemical pregnancy aka miscarriage.  Some say it may be better to have loved and lost, but I disagree. 

We lost so much in that 5 minute phone call that we’ll never get back.  I never got to know what it feels like to feel our child(ren) grow inside me.  We never got to hear a heartbeat or wonder if we should buy pink or blue.  We never got to hold our child for the first time and count all their fingers and toes, wipe their tears, kiss their sweet head.  We never got to see a first step, hear a first word, bandage a boo-boo, mend a broken heart from their first love, celebrate a birthday or Christmas, shop for the prom, buy a first car, teach right from wrong, be proud at graduation, walk her down the aisle at her wedding or calm his nervous when he says he’s ready to propose.  We never got to see them rejoice when they purchase their first house or tell us they are pregnant and we will be grandparents.  We lost so much before we even had a chance to show our love.

We had only just found out we were pregnant 2 days prior but I already loved that baby with my whole heart and would have done anything to protect them.  We wanted that pregnancy more than anything in the world.  Our dreams were finally coming true and our prayers were answered.  I fell so deep in love with my baby(ies) the moment I heard “you’re pregnant” from my re’s office that my heart shattered in a million pieces when I was told it was over.  “This is some cruel joke” I remember saying.  2 months later and my heart still hurts from the loss.  After 12 years of ttc I had come to terms that I was part of the statistic of Infertility; part of the 7.3 million suffering daily.  I thought we had overcome infertility when we received our positive news.  I don’t know how to come to terms nor do I want to with the statistic of being part of the 20% of pregnancies that end in a miscarriage. Or become part of a group that has lost a baby to a chemical pregnancy which is so common almost 60% of first pregnancies that end like this.  We may never know the reason why our baby didn't survive.  I guess sometimes love just isn't enough to hold on to your miracle, no matter how much you try.   

All I have ever wanted was to be a mom; to have someone love me and depend on me; to give my husband a family.  It is an awful feeling when you find out that you can’t make your dreams a reality or when your reality is broken.  We have traveled the infertility road so long that I never thought there was anything that could hurt more.  Boy was I wrong!  We are now part of the group that has fought, won, loved and lost our miracle.  This pain hurts every day even when I try to push it away.  Just because I smile doesn’t mean I don’t ache.  Just because I laugh doesn’t mean I’m not crying inside.  Just because I love doesn’t mean my heart isn’t still broken.  We should be 3 months along right now.  Embracing all the changes, dealing with morning sickness, sneaking purchases of baby items when we still don’t know the sex(es).  I should be aggravating my husband with my cravings and needs.  However instead of everything we looked forward to, we are learning to survive and move on. 

We are currently on a break after this loss and another failed IUI.  We need some time for us and to prepare for another try.  We’ll try again one more time down the road because we don’t feel our time is done. I share all this with you not for you to feel sad or sorry for us, Lord knows I do that enough as it is, but to just keep the good thoughts, prayers and baby dust flowing our direction.  If you’re a mom or dad, hold your little one a bit tighter and be thankful for what you have.  Never take it for granted.  Love your miracles unconditionally because I know a group of at least 1,400 people out here suffering with infertility that would give it all to have that miracle. 

 

~*~*~I'm praying daily for every empty arm and broken heart.  ~*~*~

 

Heartbroken

I was a mom for 48 short beautiful hours. It was the most natural high a person could ever possibly be on – or at least it was for me. Here is our story….

Nearly 12 years of trying to conceive, first iui procedure and 3 home pregnancy tests that all showed negative. We had already mourned the loss of that cycle and were preparing for the next. I scheduled a beta because I hadn’t started the next cycle. Almost as soon as I scheduled it, it arrived. I called back the next day to change it to a sono appointment to begin iui #2. It was 5 minutes into the sono when the tech stopped. She said something seemed off and we needed to get labs done. Nobody would tell me what was going on. Finally the nurse said it appeared I wasn’t starting a cycle but possibly implanting and needed to do the beta to rule out pregnancy before taking more meds. The next 5 hours felt like eternity. Rich kept checking in on me so see if they had called with the results – like I wasn’t going to tell him or something. Then came the call and I remember every word. The nurse asking how I was doing. Me saying it depends on what you say. Her saying the words we’ve waited 12 years to hear- “Well Mrs. Greenway, you’re pregnant!” My heart stopped, my world stood still. All I could do was cry. I was so happy that after so long it worked. Our pain and tears of sorrow were all wiped away at that moment. Of course I’m at work and trying not to tell a soul until I reach Rich but obviously not doing so well. I called him on his cell and got him out of a meeting and told him the news. We work at the same place so he came right to my office. It was so obvious to see how happy he was just by looking at him. We scheduled our next beta for 2 days later to make sure the numbers were climbing. I was put on progesterone to make sure my lining stayed thick enough to support the baby(ies). We told all of our family and friends. I know it was probably too soon but I remember telling Rich that if we only ever got this one shot I wanted everyone who has ever been supportive of us to know what was going on.

2 days later I went in for the beta and was told I would get the results later that day. The wait was on again. I didn’t care though because I was pregnant! When my phone rang around 2pm it was from the RE herself and not the nurse. It was another phone call that I will always remember. The sorrow and pain in her voice already told me what was going on but my mind couldn’t process it. I was pregnant and then it was gone. Ripped away like some cruel joke. I have never felt the pain I felt at that moment. I remember telling her this was a joke, an awful cruel joke and there was no way I could not be pregnant any longer. She told me it wasn’t and that she didn’t know why it happened but that we had what is called a chemical pregnancy. I don’t remember too much after that except someone going to get Rich and handing him the phone. I remember sitting on the floor in my office sobbing. I just wanted to die. My heart was breaking over something I barely had time to be excited over. You can do a lot of thinking in 48 hours and I had so many questions and so many things to do. I couldn’t believe it was all gone. I didn’t understand what a chemical pregnancy meant or why the nurse would call and say I was pregnant only for the RE to call and say I wasn’t. I felt like a failure, like I let my husband down, the people in my IF support page that looked to me as hope, our parents who were finally getting another grandchild…. I felt like a complete failure.

It took me a few days but I did some research and found out what a chemical pregnancy is. A chemical pregnancy is another term to describe an early miscarriage that occurs within the first five weeks of pregnancy. It turns out that chemical pregnancies are quite common and around half of all first pregnancies are thought to end in miscarriage. It is called a chemical pregnancy because it occurs at a time when only a chemical test could have picked up the pregnancy. An ultrasound would not have led to a pregnancy confirmation.

We decided to try again right away and not let this be our end result. We did iui #2 on June 1^st. I remember telling Rich that I could handle a negative much easier than another loss. I must have been crazy. We got a call on Monday the 17^th that said the iui didn’t take. I cried so much that day. I cried for the failed iui, for our miscarriage, for our future that seemed to be over. It was clear it was time for a break. So that is where we are today. We are on a break (sounds like a FRIENDS episode). We will visit the RE again in the fall to determine what our next course of action is and hopefully by then save enough funds to try iui #3. We are spending the summer taking care of our house so we can sell it, ourselves so we can feel better and planning our future in Texas.

Unless you’ve been on this IF journey, which I wish to no one, the statements of “Maybe it will happen when you aren’t trying” or “So & So got pregnant when they stopped” or even “Have you thought about adoption? So & So adopted and then got pregnant” aren’t helpful. I’m sorry if that sounds cruel but it is the truth. All we need from our friends and family is the support and encouragement to keep going to build our family. We are taking a break to heal our hearts and bank account (lol) not to hope that it happens during this time. Please just keep our hope for our future family in your thoughts and prayers!

The highs and lows of IUI # 1

We have traveled this journey for nearly 12 long years.  There have been ups and downs that come along with any marriage but when you throw IF in the mix, it seems to make it worse.  The medications, the emotions, the procedures all play a part on how you feel and what you feel like doing.  Sometimes the pain is so unreal you can't be the person you signed up to be.  You feel highs and lows, laughter and sorrow, isolated and forgotten and even loved and supported.... the roller coaster is more than any couple should endure.  Yet here we are and we've come this far so why not a bit further. 

At 7:30am on Sunday April 14th 2013 after 2 weeks of femara, sono's, trigger shot and prayers we walked into our RE's office.  At 10:13am we preformed our first ever iui.  I would be lying if I said it wasn't painful- it hurt like crazy -but we did it.  Then came the 2ww (2 week wait) which seems to last 2 years if you're on this journey.  We were told not to poas (pee on a stick) until we were 10 days past iui.  3 negative home tests later confirmed we weren't pregnant.  After some tears and mourning what we never had, I called the doctor.  I set up my blood beta test to determine if maybe the hpt's just weren't registering yet.  I swear not 10 mins later I started bleeding.  I called back the next day to schedule my sono to start round 2. 

2 days later I found myself back in the RE's office receiving my day 3 sono.  Not even 5 minutes into it the tech stopped and said something was wrong.  She sent me over to have blood work done.  I asked the blood vampire (I'm sure that isn't her title but it fits) what was going on.  She said "oh they didn't tell you?  There was something off on the sono and we need to rule out that you aren't pregnant prior to going foward with the meds."  Well Rich wasn't with me as this was just supposed to be a day 3 sono check and not a "oops you may be pregnant" check.  I called him as soon as I got to the car.  The next 5 hours went something like this.... Rich: (calling my desk) any word?  Me: no  Rich: *sigh.... click.  If we thought that 2ww was long....it was cake compared to those 5 hours.  LOL!  Finally at 12:30pm on April 30th the call came in.  "Mrs Greenway?"  "Yes"  "How are you today?"  "That depends on what you tell me" "Well.... you're pregnant".  TEARS OF JOY!!!  I don't recall too much more of the conversation in regards to all the numbers and levels.  All I know is I had to return in 2 days for another beta check to be sure my numbers were climbing.  I remember calling Rich out of a meeting to share the news.  Telling my husband of nearly 10 years that we were finally pregnat was the highest of highs.  We were so excited that we couldn't keep it to ourselves even though that was our orignal plan.  We decided that even if it happened just this once and it didn't last that we wanted to share it with the world - so we did. 

For 48 hours we were on the highest mountain of love you could imagine.  But sadly at around 1pm on May 2nd 2013, our worse fear happened.  We lost the baby(ies).  It was a chemical pregnancy and we were no longer pregnant.  I remember telling the RE (who called personally) that it was a cruel joke.  There was no way we could be pregnant 2 days ago and not now.  Why would they tell me we were just to take that away from us after we tried for so long??  I received this call at work and my boss was in the room.  He went to get Rich to be with me.  (I have never been so thankful we work at the same place as I was that day).  I remember sitting on the floor of my office crying like a mad woman while he talked to our RE and got the details.  It wasn't until this week that I had enough strength and courage to do research and figure out what a chemical pregnancy meant.  When you're left confused and devastated after getting this news and hearing the words "chemical pregnancy", it registers in your brain as a false positive pregnancy test; as if it was medicine that registered this way.  Kind of makes you feel like you weren't really pregnant at all.  But after the research I learned that the truth is a chemical pregnancy was indeed a conception but is a very early miscarriage.  It means that the blood beta test or home test were the only evidence that you are pregnant.  However the miscarriage happened prior to a sono that would have shown a sac.  (5 weeks and under is a chemical where 6 weeks and over is a clinical miscarriage). 

Now we had to go back and tell everyone that was so excited for us that we had become pregnant that we no longer were pregnant.  I felt like a failure and disappointment to everyone on my IF page that found hope and encouragement in our story.  Worse than that, I felt like I disappointmented my husband.  I saw the heartbreak in his eyes but still felt the love and support when he held me.  We had already mourned this lost cycle but then to be told it was positive and to lose it again, it nearly broke me.  I say nearly because we decided that day that we weren't going to stop.  We would do another cycle as soon as possible but this time we would be more careful.  Not in what we did but when we announced and even as far as having the RE's office do 2 or 3 beta tests prior to telling us anything.  All I want is to give my husband the family he deserves, to be a mom to a little miracle.

Failure is not an option for us and we will continue this journey.  One way or another we will become parents and increase our happy little family.  I try not to let Infertility define me... I am a person beyond pcos, endometriosis and IF. I have an amazing husband, awesome friends, a great support system and 2 wonderful dogs that are my world. I just want to be a momma as well! That said, I will always be a voice to this world I deal with daily.  All I ask is that you never judge someone by what you see on the outside.  Try to remember that there is always something deeper that makes them the way they are.

Angry with God....

It is the last day of National Infertility Awareness Week in 2013.  For some of you that means not having to see our many posts or facts on infertility .  For those of us that live it, it's just another Saturday night.  Tomorrow morning we will still wake up in the same situation(s) we are in today.  We will still belong to this group of 7.3 million strong that fight for the chance to have a family.  We will still be missing a piece of us that so many take for granted.  We may live all over the world but we are still grouped together by this one situation.

As you all should know by now, I am a strong believer of my faith and that everything - EVERYTHING- happens for a reason.  I have often asked God why me? Why did you give me this load to bare? I know He doesn't give us more than He feels we can handle, so why me? Why is it so difficult to make our house a home, to make my husband a daddy.  Until recently I didn't understand why He entrusted me so much with this journey and why He thought I was strong enough to handle it.  I have been mad at God twice in my lifetime- the first over a failed marriage, the second over this infertility hell we've faced.  I only mention the first so you know that I eventually got over being mad at Him when I met and married my now husband.  It was a new chance on life and creating a family.  Little did we know that it would take us nearly 12 years to even be given a flicker of a chance of being pregnant. 

I grew so angry again with God because I didn't understand how people were able to have children and abuse them or discard them without a second thought.  I didn't understand how they were able to keep having them while we struggled to ever see one positive test.  I tried making deals, I begged for the pain to be taken away, I begged for a family.  I honestly believe it was only when I stopped begging and stopped being mad at him for this journey and started to see it in a different light and it start looking like it may work our favor.  I couldn't see in the beginning that He was placing me in a role in my life where I needed to be a source of strength for others on this awful journey.  I didn't realize that my job was to help educate those that didn't understand the pain infertility caused, help those adjust that were just starting their infertility journey and support those that had unfortunately been on it awhile.  I didn't understand how people could time and time again do everything possible to conceive in every "non-normal" way only to receive heartache after heartache.  I didn't understand that I would grow to need these ladies of my Facebook Infertility Support Group as much as they needed me.  Until I let go of the fact that we would never be able to conceive normally and accept the fact that having medicine and medical procedures assist us, I never let go of the pain. 

I can honestly say that since our IUI 2 weeks ago, the only cramps I've had were IUI related.  I haven't had the daily pains I've felt over the past 12 years.  I haven't had the uncontrolable bleeding that came along with an non-medicated cycle.  This doesn't mean it still doesn't hurt mentally or emotionally, I just don't hurt physically.  It doesn't mean I won't still consider myself infertile even when we receive our miracle(s).  It doesn't mean I won't still be 1 in 8 or one of the 7.3 million... it just means that now that I understand what my journey is and I truly believe He will bless us with our miracle(s).   To all of those that supported us, prayed for us, cared about us... thank you!  I can't wait for our miracle(s) to happen and share it with you all!

Trying to get pregnant is the fun part....

Sure “trying” is the fun part for a normal couple but in IF world not so much.  Unless of course by fun you mean pill after pill, shot after shot, exams, ultrasounds, heart break, pain, pressure, surgeries, procedures, peeing on a stick and seeing a negative reply every time, having timed intercourse for a chance of hitting your body’s exact surge, husbands sample in a cup, transfers, havesting. Sure, trying to get pregnant is the fun part….unless you are infertile! 1 in 8 woman struggle with this invisible disease daily. They beg, make deals, pick out names, buy a cute outfit, design the nursery in their minds only to receive another negative test month after month.

“Just adopt” some say, “stop trying so hard”, “I know so and so and they adopted and then got pregnant”, “kids are a headache, be lucky it’s just the 2 of you”….all of these may be said out of love but each one reminds us of the trials and failures we face constantly. The waiting, the medicine, more waiting, having faith and hope and then 2 weeks later having it ripped away from you. Worse yet, seeing that positive after years of trying and sharing the news with all only to have your body reject the miracle and lose it. Being part of a support group with 1,450 other woman who know what 2ww, bfn, bfp, dh and other things like that stand for. Knowing that we all share something so personal that many of us are scared to even share with our families and friends and yet we are all strangers. We cry together, celebrate together, hurt for each other’s negative reply. Hearing how marriages are falling apart, husbands and wifes no longer want the same thing, the doctor says nothing more can be done… it is all heartbreaking.

So yeah I suppose trying to get pregnant is the fun part unless you are one of the 7.3 million people who have fertility issues. My journey is up to God. My path is already planned. My desire to be a mom and make my husband a daddy is well known.  For now though we sit and finish our 2ww….

I am 1

Welcome to National Infertility Awareness Week (NIAW). 1 in 8 people suffer from this disease. I am 1! Is that number not big enough for you? How about if I say I am 1 in 7.3 million people affected in the United States alone with infertility? 

 

I would like to take say I did the research for the following information but sadly there are others like me and someone else did it first.  The following information comes from

http://theinfertilityvoice.com/2013/04/this-is-what-7-3-million-looks-like/.

 

Well to start, that’s slightly less than the entire population of Israel. That’s slightly more than the entire population of Hone Kong Or, another way to look at it: it’s the combined populations of entire nations like Moldova and Lithuania.

In the United States, 7.3 million people is just slightly less than the state of Virginia and just a smidgen over the state of Washington. It’s like two whole Puerto Ricos put together.

We could fill an area as small as 426 square miles (the city of Hong Kong) or as big as 71,300 square miles (Washington state).

To put it plainly, 7.3 million people is a lot of people.
At first, it’s easy to see just how massive 7.3 million people can be. We could fill whole cities, states and countries with our numbers. And then, like any statistic, it’s easy to start glazing over the population, to start seeing these groups of people as just a number.

The truth is, 7.3 million people is just too many people.
7.3 million matters because we matter, because our stories and journeys and hopes and fears and dreams of becoming parents matters.

That’s why, in order for our numbers as a community to ever be effective, in terms of advocacy, insurance coverage, media portrayals and general social acceptance and understanding – we can’t rely on our numbers alone. We need to be more than just a number.

We need to show people what 7.3 million people really looks like.
7.3 million looks like your neighbors, your sisters, your co-workers, your spouses, your friends.
7.3 million looks back at you in the mirror every morning, when you wonder if this month will finally be the month.