Friday, January 20, 2012


Well, this is the beginning of blogging for me. I have never been one to write things down, but I am thinking there will come a time in my life when I will want to look back and remember these moments...these years without children and the struggles we've seen.

The past 1.5 years have been a challenge. Things have always come easily for me and life has been fairly easy going. When I've wanted something, I've worked hard for it, and then got it. Andrew and I did every step right - we waited to get married, waited till I finished school, waited till the loans were pain off and we were financially secure. And then we decided (or I finally convinced him!) that it was time to start trying for children. I assumed 2 months, maybe 3 tops. I was already picking out our child's name, figuring out how I would tell the family at Thanksgiving, then it was Christmas, then it was for a birthday gathering, 4th of July, Clemson tailgates, another Thanksgiving, another Christmas...

And here we are, still waiting. We've done all the tests, and with some bleak results. But we've continued to keep going back to the doctor, handing over my $60 copay, just to hear that I've got yet another cyst, each one larger than the last. And that my endometriosis has grown back, surgery was not successful, they mistimed things, etc.

After months of that, I finally had a cyst drained so we could start the fertility drugs. Things were looking good! I had several healthy follicles. And then I let myself get excited, to think "hey, maybe this will all work out!" And I let my husband stab me in the stomach with a needle! All for the hope, the dream, that I could have a child. And today, yet again, it is confirmed that is not happening for us. On to phase 2...So now I go back to the doctors for one last day of testing before they put me on the crazy pills. Medication to send my body into menopause, to dry up my ovaries, so they can later stimulate them to produce lots of eggs to try IVF.

When I imagined how things would go, this was not it. Following my plan, I would have a beautiful, healthy baby boy or girl already 10+months old. We would be preparing for a 1st birthday party, and recording their first steps. I know things do not always work out as planned. And I know that God is in control. And I know we will have a child when He chooses to give us one. But that in no way makes it any less infuriating to hear about so-and-so who got pregnant. And I can't help but feel bitter toward my pregnant friends, or the ones who got pregnant in their early months of trying, or the ones who got pregnant without even trying! Those ones, especially, I hate. And I'm sure the lesson in all of this is not to learn to be this bitter woman, who contemplates stealing someone else's child (though not really, I don't think I'm there just yet) I should be learning patience, which has always been a struggle, but I don't feel any more patient. And I should be learning to trust God more, but I just want to take control back so I can get it done my way. And now, I am at a loss. I have done every step I know, and now I just walk forward, terrified of the road ahead: the testing, the needles, the shots at home, the cost, and that I will lose my mind with all these hormones. Menopause me starts in 2 days...

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