Why We're Not "Trying For A Boy"

The questions are inevitable. We should all be used to them by now.

When you're single everyone wants to know why you're not dating. When you're dating they want to know why you're not married yet. As soon as you tie the knot, they want to know when babies are coming, and look out if this takes longer than people find reasonable. As soon as you have the first baby, and especially after he or she starts having birthdays, they want to know when the sibling will arrive. And so on...

I vividly remember the young anesthesiologist in the operating room when Anna was about to be born. It wasn't the guy who couldn't successfully administer the spinal block, nor the guy who came to relieve him and give me the epidural. It was the guy who was up near my head during the whole surgery, watching my blood pressure and vitals. Needless to say, after all the (painful) drama surrounding the failed spinal block I was not exactly in a relaxed state! But bless his heart, he was trying to make conversation and trying to take my mind off of things. He asked if this would be my first baby and I told him I had a 2-year-old daughter. Did we know the new baby's gender? Yes, another girl, I said. His immediate reaction was my new favorite question (not): Are you going to try for a boy?

I looked up at him incredulously and managed a chuckle, telling him I was pretty positive this was it for me. It was such a ridiculous time to ask such a question that I even heard my doctor laughing from the other side of the drape.

That wasn't the only time we've heard the question. Really, I do know that most of the time people don't mean to offend or be rude or nosy. But I can't help but wonder sometimes whether people actually think about these questions or what they may imply? To me, whether the following things are all intentional or not, the "try for a boy" question implies:

1. That we aren't satisfied with two girls.
Sometimes I want to shout it from the rooftops -- We are completely satisfied with two daughters! Both my husband and I are extremely grateful that God gave us children at all. We think parenting two daughters is an honor and a privilege. Their relationship with each other as sisters delights us on a daily basis. Even though we long ago imagined ourselves with girls, this does not mean we wouldn't have been equally grateful for or satisfied with boys. Children are a blessing! When you've been through the valley to get to your children, you don't sit around wishing that God had given you a different kind. You thank him daily for remembering you, for answering your heartfelt prayers, and for giving you your heart's desire. Our girls are precious and silly and hilarious and beautiful and fun! They are full of joy and full of life, and sometimes when I look at them I see a lifetime of sharing special moments with them as my daughters and my friends. And oh, when I see the sweet and special relationship they have with their daddy, it melts my heart.

2. That we're missing out on the ideal family by not having children of both genders.
I think there are some people out there who really think every man should have a son. That if he doesn't, he's missing out on a special bond. I personally think that's ridiculous. One family member who likes to joke around even suggested that my husband wasn't "manly" enough to produce boys. WOW. That may be the dumbest "joke" I've ever heard. Long before we ever had children, my husband and I had conversations about all the fun things he'd love to do with his daughter or son. And guess what? They were the exact same things. Who cares if you're playing with tea sets or trucks? The memories we've made as a family watching movies together, going to the zoo or the park, playing outside, having tickle fights, and going for ice cream would look much the same if we had girls, boys, or both. Those are the things that matter, not whether their rooms have pink curtains or blue ones. It makes my heart soar that I have a husband who cherishes his girls. Friends, there is nothing in the world more "manly" to me than a man who is secure enough in his masculinity to have a tea party and play with dolls with his daughters.
We've all heard that singsong response that people give sometimes when they have a boy and a girl: "One of each! Now our family is complete!" I'm here to tell you that MINE IS TOO. God completed his plan for our family when he gave us our two daughters.

3. That having children is easy or that it's all about getting the children we want.
I don't mind one bit when a friend asks whether or not we might try to have another baby. Someone who cares about me and my family, who knows a little (or a lot) about what we've been through, is certainly welcome to ask me about my family's future plans. But I have a hard time when it comes from an acquaintance who just wants to be nosy, or if it's phrased like having another child is just a walk in the park. I understand that it is, for some. But for so many it's not, and not only is it difficult, it's also painful to talk about sometimes. We don't all have the privilege of deciding exactly how many children we want and then going on with our lives, sitting back and watching it all fall into place with relative ease and convenience. I'm always tempted to respond to the question with either "None of your business" or giving the whole, long story of our struggle with infertility and miscarriage and everything it took to get to where we are. We fought hard to get here.
I'll admit, it gets under my skin when I hear others go on and on about their preferences when it comes to having children. Is that really what it's all about? I understand having a dream of one day having a daughter or son, specifically. I totally get that. But I believe that the decision rests with our Creator and that he alone designs each and every family as he sees fit. It's up to us to be the best parents we can be to the children he gives us (and in whatever way, by adoption or biologically). Each family is different and unique and special, and that's what makes it all so great. Of course, during the twelve years that my husband and I were married without children, we considered ourselves a family then, too. Families without children are just as special.

Believe me, I love little boys! I have nephews who are so dear to my heart that it feels like they came from my own body. Little boys are wonderful and I'm so glad to have some really special ones in my life. But God gave us wonderful, special girls. We love them with all of our hearts. We feel no need to "try for a boy." We are done, but even if we decided to have a third child, we'd be perfectly happy with a boy OR another girl.

We are content and satisfied. We have two girls. And we are complete.

Is Eight Enough?

The following is a post that has been on my heart for a while. It's scary, sometimes, putting things "out there" that feel truly, deeply personal and private, knowing that one little negative comment could potentially cut you to the core. So this is me taking that chance and being brave, friends. I'm not asking for advice, but just a friendly, listening ear.

I'm nearing the end of my eighth pregnancy. I can count the remaining weeks on one hand as the date we've been anticipating since March now appears on our current calendar page. November 2012 is the month when we'll meet our second daughter on earth, the second child we got to keep.

As most of you probably know, my first six pregnancies ended in miscarriage. I know the story has been told and re-told on this blog, but I think perspective is important for this particular post. That was the most difficult time in my life, hands-down. And, not that it would have been any easier at all had they happened in a shorter time frame, my losses were spread out -- one a year for six years, between 2002 and 2007. The reason I'm pointing that out is that it felt like it took up so much of our lives. I'll even admit that looking at it written out doesn't seem like quite that long. Oh, but living it felt like an eternity. It felt like climbing the highest, rockiest mountain over and over again, only to find another one just as high and just as rocky on the other side.

I entered that time as a young, eager, (ahem -- much thinner), twenty-four year old with high hopes, and I exited as a battered and bruised, heartbroken, somewhat jaded thirty year old. We still had very few answers and (speaking for myself) not much hope that our situation would improve. Three more years went by while we waited. Those felt like silent years to me. I wondered if God had closed the door, stopped listening to me, and decided that my chances at motherhood had run out. I was thankful that those years did not include more loss -- I'm not sure if I could have handled more grief during that time. But the silence, too, was hard.

Everything changed in January 2010, when we were given another chance, a seventh pregnancy, and somehow it kept going. Our daughter was born that September and we were overjoyed. We'd grown and changed in many ways (some for the better, some not), but most of all we were tired and ready to rest in the joy of the moment.

The eighth pregnancy in March 2012 came faster and more unexpectedly than we could have imagined, but we were ready and hopeful, if not more than a little bit terrified. We knew that having had one successful pregnancy did not guarantee another, but as the weeks and months passed, the baby lived and grew. We began to let ourselves entertain thoughts of a family of four, and let me tell you, it was so far beyond where I was five years ago after our sixth positive pregnancy test resulted in another devastating loss. Sometimes I still can't believe it when I look around me. The rooms of our house are littered with toys and upstairs there are two bedrooms with cribs in them. More than that, though, my heart is so full.

And so, all of that brings me to this moment, right now. I haven't made any final decisions (or any of the permanent type), but I often wonder if this will be it. Will this eighth pregnancy be our last? If I had to answer as honestly as I can and exactly as I feel today, my answer would be yes. I guess "enough" isn't a great word here, because YES, it is certainly enough! The last thing in the world that I feel right now is unfulfilled or that our family is incomplete (with our six babies in heaven always in my mind and heart -- we know we'll see them again one day, and they are part of our family as well even though they are not here). Having Lily was all we'd hoped for, and now having Anna is all bonus and so much more than we'd imagined. We are fulfilled. We are happy.

If I were ten years younger and had never suffered through miscarriage or infertility, would we stop after two children? Probably not. And that's the part that is hard. I'll be 36 a couple of months after Anna is born. I don't bellyache about my increasing age on this blog because I know there are people older than I am who are fighting their own battles. But I mention it to say that I'm aware of it daily, and I'm more than aware that after eight pregnancies and multiple surgeries, etc., my body is weary. It has been a long and very difficult road to where we are. Not to mention that after six miscarriages, the fear of another loss is always with me. And even though I know it has nothing at all to do with "luck," I can't help but also think sometimes that after bringing home two babies I don't want to "push my luck." I guess that's the pessimist (or the realist) in me.

I do know that women who are older than I am have babies all the time. I think that's great and I like knowing that it may not be impossible for me as well if we pursued that. I think the point of getting all of these feelings out is that I don't feel like the average woman of childbearing age. It took us an entire decade and a lot of emotional and physical pain to have these two children, so I can't help but have lots of feelings on the subject. Sometimes I envy those who had/have no limitations whatsoever on their family size, those who knew from a young age that they wanted to grow up and have "x" amount of children and then faced no obstacles in doing just that. But I've accepted the fact that I'm not and never will be that person, and I know that what I went through to have my miracle babies is part of my story and what makes this family unique and special to me in its own amazing way. From my perspective, which is based on my own personal experience, the thought of closing the chapter of my life that has been consumed with fertility feels... quite freeing.

It's a difficult topic for me to mull over right now, even though I feel 90% sure (and generally okay with it) that Anna will be our caboose. I want to be content in what God has given us, yet I don't want to be the one who has slammed and locked the door if He has another child for us in the future (biological or otherwise).

I can't help but think about it in these final weeks of this pregnancy. I wonder if this will be the last time, while I'm still amazed that I've been given the chance (however hard-fought) to do this twice. Either way I want to rest in this moment and be content right where I am. And I think, whenever we're ready and after praying about it at length, it will one day feel great to say, "Okay. It's enough."

Updates and Q&A

This week's OB visit was a bit more eventful than usual. Let me start by saying that everything is fine with baby and me! Things are still moving along very well. It was my 36-week visit, and week 37 is just around the corner.

I also wanted to take a minute to address a few questions that you've asked in the comments on the last couple of posts. I'll cover those in just a minute, but first here's how the appointment went:

I knew going into the visit that it was the week for my group B strep test and that the doctor would also begin checking my cervix this week. First, the nurse did the routine checks of my urine (still clear and free of protein), blood pressure (still nice and low at 122/60), and weight (+2 lbs). Dr R came in and we chatted about how close we are to the big event. I told her I was doing fine besides the lack of sleep and general third-trimester aches and pains!

Next, she measured my belly. Now, every other time that I've been to the OB, this measurement has been "right on target" with where it should be. This time, though, she commented about how the baby's size had really increased. This was not a surprise to me; I've noticed that in the last two weeks it suddenly looks like I'm (unsuccessfully) trying to hide a watermelon under my shirt. The doctor mentioned that we will have an ultrasound at our visit next week so we can check her size. We are excited about getting a peek at our girl again! That hasn't happened since week 22, so it will be really great to see her again at this stage.

During the exam the doctor found that my cervix is still pretty firm and is still closed, and the baby seems to be in a head-down position. After we talked about the apparent spike in her size, she asked me if the baby had been active that day. I explained that she had moved around for most of the night before, but on the day of the visit she had so far been pretty calm. I'd felt her move a little bit that morning but not too much since then (my appointment was late in the afternoon). She said we'd do a quick non-stress test just to be sure that everything was fine.

Surprisingly, I really wasn't terrified; I was just eager for some reassurance. Pretty soon I actually enjoyed being hooked up to the monitor and listening to Lily's heartbeat. (We do still have the doppler at home but we've never used it for that chunk of time before!) The great thing was that it didn't take very long for me to identify some activity from the baby about 6 different times. We could hear her heart rate increasing when this would happen, which is normal. It was also interesting to see the monitor tracking my contractions. I had at least half a dozen of them while I was hooked up, but they were not incredibly strong and not at all regular. The doctor said there were probably so many because she had just stirred things up by checking my cervix during the exam.

(As a side note: One of the nurses who was checking in on us while I was on the monitor was looking at my info, I guess to see if this was our first baby. She declared out loud that yes, this was our first "real baby." Because of my concern for Lily at the time, I resisted the urge to explain to her that ALL of the babies I've carried are REAL. They certainly weren't fake or imaginary!!!)

So, all of that is just to say that Lily is doing fine! Our "little" girl may not be very little anymore, but we will check on that when I go back Thursday of next week. The doctor hinted that there certainly is a possibility, though, that we may end up moving the C-section to an earlier date. She may arrive a bit sooner than we expected, folks!

Now for the Q&A part:
Jennie is new to my blog and recently asked if we conceived Lily on our own. I haven't talked about this in a while and thought now might be a good time to revisit it and give a brief explanation. I feel like it's misleading to answer either a simple yes or no to this question! What happened was that we did our first-ever timed cycle with fertility drugs in early December of last year. All six of our previous pregnancies were achieved on our own. Although we were under the care of doctors for the last four, we had not needed or used any methods of ART. Getting pregnant had not been our problem up until the three years after our last miscarriage in 2007. My cycles had become irregular and I had started missing periods altogether, so we decided on the new approach to guarantee ovulation. So in late November of 2009 I took a round of Clomid, had the follicle ultrasound and trigger shot, and we had our first IUI in December, which resulted in a negative.

We decided to try again with the very next cycle, except my doctor wanted to try Femara this time instead of Clomid. I started taking it the last week of December and we returned home from our holiday travels for the follicle scan. We had a great looking 29 mm follicle that seemed to be our best chance, so we had the Ovidrel (trigger shot) and were planning to return for our second IUI on January 2. Soon after that, we learned that there would be no doctor available on that day due to the holiday schedule, and our IUI was canceled. We were crushed! We felt like we had the perfect set-up and it was now going to be wasted just because it was the day after New Year's. To top it off, we were spending the week away from home and didn't have a whole lot of confidence in our opportunities to try on our own for a pregnancy. I remember how devastated and angry I felt about the whole thing, but a few weeks later I was reminded that the Lord doesn't need our planning or timing to be right for Him to take action! We discovered on January 20 that we had indeed gotten pregnant "on our own."

I hesitate to say it was completely on our own because we were doing a timed cycle with the help of Femara and Ovidrel, but Lily was technically conceived the old-fashioned way. Thanks for the question, Jennie, and thank you for reading the blog and offering your support. I'm sorry to hear of your own struggle with infertility and will be praying that you will find answers soon.

The second question was asked by both Birdie and Kathryn on my last post. They wondered why we are having Lily via a scheduled C-section. The reason we made this decision along with our doctor a few months back is because of the surgery I had on my uterus back in 2005 to remove a septum. Because the surgery was performed five years ago by a different doctor (and not even our current specialist), the OB had some concerns about the possibility of a rupture of the uterus if I went through regular labor. It's not that she was convinced that it would happen simply because I'd had a septum removed; it's more because there is really no way for her to know how thin the area might be or if the strength of my uterus was in any way compromised because of that surgery. This isn't something they can go back and look at via ultrasound, so we just decided that the safest way to go for both Lily and me was to do a scheduled C-section. After talking it over with our doctor on a few occasions, my husband and I were both completely at peace with and confident about this decision. We totally trust that this OB has our best interests in mind and wouldn't suggest major surgery unless she found it to be necessary or the safest plan for our specific situation.

So, as it stands now, we are scheduled for a C-section at noon on Tuesday, September 21. I may have new information next week after our next appointment and ultrasound to check the baby's size. If I do go into labor before our scheduled time, we will still have a C-section.

Thanks for the questions, guys! I wanted to address them in a post since I'm never sure if people will get my responses in the comments. I appreciate that you continue to follow my story on this blog. Thanks so much for your continued support and prayers as we get ready to bring this baby home in the next few weeks!

Why Now?

That is the question I've been pondering lately.

It has almost replaced my old standard question that has been around for so many years, "Why me?" Why was it so hard? Why did we have to live through one loss after another for 6 years, followed by 3 years of waiting and wondering? Those questions are still with me, although they're not at the forefront of my mind like they used to be. No, it's not because I'm pregnant; it's because I was learning to let it go. I knew that, for me, I had to get to a place where I could let go of my desire to know why things happen the way they do. It was a matter of trusting that God was still in control and I needed to trust that even though I didn't have a baby.

I'm still learning to trust Him. Lately I've been wondering, "Why now?" What changed so that we could now make it to the 16th week of pregnancy? Why has the Lord now decided to give us this child?

I don't know the answer. We didn't know why then, and we don't know why now.

I don't know why we struggled through recurrent miscarriage alone. To clarify, we had the wonderful support of our family and some close friends through that trial. But it is a lonely time even for a couple. What I mean is that we didn't know very many others who had been through what we were facing. It was so hard. Our babies were dying and I knew that there was a problem somewhere inside my body that was causing it. It is a helpless, horrible feeling. We sought the help of doctors along the way who identified a few issues and corrected them. We hoped for something different, but nothing changed. We still got pregnant and we still miscarried. We felt like we were walking through the valley of the shadow of death.

Then came what we felt was our time in the desert. Three years of nothing. We were facing infertility on top of recurrent miscarriage.

The difference was that God gave me an outlet during that time. In those few years He gave me a community of supporters who quickly became friends. He allowed me the opportunity to write, which was something I hadn't explored in a long time. He gave me what I still consider a ministry, here, in the form of a blog. We weren't alone anymore. Sure, it was still hard, but now we had our family and friends plus a group of people who knew what we felt because they too were living it. And all of a sudden, instead of wanting to hide ourselves away until our problem was resolved (if it ever would be) and instead of being ashamed of how devastated we felt about our situation, we began to be more open about it. Now, when people asked why we didn't have children, we told them why. We told them about how long we had been trying, how hard it had been, and how desperately we wanted that. We asked them to pray with us and we talked about the babies we'd lost. I no longer worried so much about hiding my tears. It was really hard and really outside of what felt comfortable, but we almost embraced it in a way. YES, we still hated it, but I think we realized that it was becoming part of our story.

It's strange to think that now is the time for us to have a successful pregnancy. Why now? Maybe it's because I needed you guys to hold me up and have faith when I didn't. Without a doubt I know that I need your prayers and encouragement to get through this new waiting period. I have a lot of fears and a lot of worries even though we're farther than we've ever been. Oh, how I wish I could have had this community when it was our season of loss. But for some reason that I may never fully understand, we needed to get through that time together and we needed to learn to rely on God. We needed to realize that we weren't really alone because He never did leave us.

Since I started blogging almost 2 years ago, I've watched (and prayed, and rejoiced!) as more than 20 of my blog friends have given birth to or adopted new babies! I think that's incredible. My list of friends who are still waiting, however, is longer than 20. I pray every single day for people on that list. If you're still in the valley of miscarriage and loss or in the desert of infertility, I pray that it will soon be your time to sit back and wonder in amazement, why now?

It's okay with me if I never get the answer. He knows why. And I'm thankful.

Inquiring Minds Want to Know

It's expected that around the holidays you'll see lots of family and friends, probably even those you don't often see during the year. This is one thing I enjoy most about Christmas but certainly it becomes a source of stress for me also. You see, I'm always anticipating awkward situations and the inevitable questions that will be asked about my situation. This post has been inspired by three things: my past experiences on the subject, a recent conversation with a single girlfriend, and this post from Abby at LIFE As I Know It. Abby's brief post today about a comment she's tired of hearing got my wheels turning about those awkward moments we have with family, friends, and complete strangers. I have already written at length about what not to say to someone dealing with infertility, so I'll try to keep this one brief.

Here are a few things I'm hoping not to hear this Christmas:

1. "So, how is all of that going?"
(It's a good thing I'm so savvy at picking up on subtle cues and can figure out that by "all of that" they mean infertility.) Here's where it gets interesting, because to me it depends on who is asking the question. If it is someone I'm very close to, who has been following along with all the ins and outs of this journey and knows what it has been like for us all these years, I'm much more inclined to give an honest update on where we are. If, however, the question comes from a friend I haven't seen or heard from since last Christmas (or five Christmases ago), I'm not usually ready to get into it. Believe me when I tell you that I know how easy it is to lose touch with people during the year. But if you were really concerned, you'd probably call or write when I came to mind rather than waiting to run into me in the grocery store and deciding that's the perfect time to talk about my personal battle with miscarriage. Right there in the produce aisle. I really do appreciate concern in any form, but sometimes it feels more like gathering information to store away in a mental file than genuine compassion.

2. "Have you tried _______?"
Unless the missing words are "Starbucks' new salted caramel hot chocolate" (to which I would reply "Yes, and it's fantastic!") then I'm really not interested in talking about a new treatment plan right at that moment. I'm open to suggestions or information about new studies in the world of infertility/recurrent miscarriage, but right now it's Christmas and let's just talk about regular things, please! Hearing medical advice from someone who may have gone through a vaguely similar situation years ago and now has had several kids isn't my idea of a fun Christmas party. I mean it when I say that I'm really glad things worked out and that they found the right thing that worked for them, but that doesn't mean it will be the right answer for me. Sometimes suggestions from friends who have overcome infertility or from friends who have never experienced it at all make me feel like they think my doctors are just twiddling their thumbs. I can assure you that we are seeking out the best medical care we can find, and even though I know that not much has changed for us in the past several years, we feel like we are doing the best we can.

3. "Are you trying right now?"
Well, we're not trying right at this moment... obviously. Seriously, I can't think of many situations where this question would be appropriate. It is awkward to discuss the personal details of my cycle and sex life with 99% of people. Maybe that's just me! And until you see us walking around with little ones in tow, assume we are "trying."

4. "Your blessing will come soon."
If you read this blog regularly, then you already know my thoughts about "blessings." I don't have any children but I already do have blessings! Unless you've had a direct word from the Lord about my future children (which I'm not doubting can happen) it may not be a good idea to offer empty promises to someone in my situation. Instead of making me feel better, that definitely makes me feel worse.

Now let me reassure you that if you are a bloggy friend of mine and you're reading these words, the chances are pretty slim that any of this applies to you! When you are in a community of people who are all struggling with infertility in some form, there are many times when talking specifics and suggesting treatment plans can be appropriate.

I'm happy to say that with the exception of #4, none of the above have happened to me in quite a while. This post is not an excuse to send out a secret message to any of my friends who might be reading it. It's just one of those days when I needed to vent, so thanks for listening.

Now, who wants a hot chocolate? I do.

Where Does the Time Go?

Sometimes I get very overwhelmed about getting older. It feels like I am running out of time and it is just passing by too quickly. I think I would be able to handle it (a little) better if not for the delay in having children. I know 31 really isn't all that "old," considering the fact that this week my grandma is turning 91! The older I get, though, the more hurried I feel.

I don't blame my mom for this since she had no way of knowing what my future held, but she always told me to have my children while I was still young and had the energy. Mom had my sister and me when she was in her early-to-mid-twenties. After she and my dad divorced and she married my step-dad, she had my little brother at the age of 35. She was always very honest about how difficult it was. Part of that was the feeling of starting over again with a little one, and I can see how that would be hard. I think it was a whole new ball game for her then, not to mention the difference between raising girls and raising a boy. Needless to say, after getting married at age 21 I never thought that by this time I would still have no children.

The other day I was meditating on how much times have changed since we started trying to have a baby. We made the decision in 2001, but didn't really start trying until 2002. Here are some of the ways my life has changed between 2002 and 2008:

• We bought our first home in the summer of 2002.
• In December of 2002 our second nephew was born. Both of our nephews, as of this month, are in school.
• The hubby and I have been on an airplane 5 times, which is pretty good considering we hadn't really traveled at all since our honeymoon in 1998.
• Before 2002 I rarely went to the doctor, had never been in the hospital, had never had blood drawn, and had never had any kind of surgery.
• In 2007, I said goodbye to my twenties.
• After LASIK eye surgery a few months ago, I no longer wear glasses or contacts!
• This summer my husband and I had our 10th wedding anniversary.
• I weigh about 30 pounds more than I did back in 2002.

Some of those are great things and some are not so great. Our lives are bound to change over time. To put it in perspective, though, consider how much has happened in our country and the world in the past 7 years:

• In 2002 Enron was in the news, and everyone's favorite new TV show was American Idol.
• In 2003 Martha Stewart was indicted, the Space Shuttle Columbia was lost, and the Invasion of Iraq began.
• In 2004 George W. Bush began his second term as president, and the Boston Red Sox won their first World Series since 1918.
• In 2005 Hurricane Katrina devastated parts of Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama.
• In 2006 astronomers decided that Pluto was no longer a planet.
• In 2007 the iPhone hit stores.
• In 2008 the U.S. will elect a new president, and although it didn't make national news, I started blogging.

All of these things have happened since the time we decided to have a child! It's crazy how things change. We have even changed our minds several times about what we would name our baby boy or girl. Names that we thought were perfect back then are now not so trendy or have been used over and over by our friends and relatives.

It's pretty sobering to think about life passing us by. I know it probably wouldn't seem any slower if we did have children, but maybe then I wouldn't feel like I'm running to catch up with everyone else.

The Spa Weekend

When I say that infertility affects nearly every aspect of my daily life, I really do mean it! I long for those innocent days early in my marriage before we started trying to have kids. I could have normal, healthy friendships and wasn't all that scared to meet new people. I couldn't wait for my friends to become parents so we could sit around and talk about kids instead of cute things their pets did!

It really is very difficult for me, as a married woman in her thirties, to be childless. Everywhere I go and with everyone I meet, the topic is going to come up. My husband and I went out of town recently to celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. We decided to pamper ourselves a bit and take advantage of the hotel's spa treatments. He got a massage (his first one ever!) and I couldn't wait for my facial. The lady was very professional and very nice. I was feeling so nice and relaxed there on the table as she was applying all those yummy-scented exfoliates to my face. I actually had a thought that it would be so wonderful if I could get through the session without having to talk about not having kids.

I was almost in the clear. I had about five minutes left. Then, with my face totally covered in hot towels and my arms being slathered in lotion, it happened. The nice lady said, "How many children do you have?" I felt my relaxed muscles once again become tense. I mumbled from underneath my towel mask, "None." It didn't end there. She wanted to know why; was it our choice? I guess I had made the mistake of telling her we were there to celebrate ten years of marriage. It would seem strange that we aren't parents. She had just spent 30 minutes in a room with my husband, but not once had the topic of having children come up then.

I wasn't angry with the spa lady. I just hate that I can't enjoy a nice weekend away without being reminded of The Thing. The Infertility. That's what I mean about it being around every day and in every activity. I can't call up a friend and excitedly say, "Guess what?!" She'll think I'm going to tell her I'm finally having a baby. Nope, I just scored some cool concert tickets. Oh well. And no e-mails can go out from us with the subject, "Good News!" Twelve people will write back and say, "For a minute there I thought you were going to say you're pregnant."

In a recent discussion with a friend I was talking about how cool it would be if any time I'm asked about having children, I could just hand the person a business card referring them to this blog! That would save me from a few awkward situations, but of course I'm kidding. I know that people were made to interact with each other, and I actually do enjoy talking to other people. It does become difficult when the subject is something so personal to me and so heartbreaking. It's really hard to talk about it every day. I guess in some ways it helps too. I'm sure it's better than keeping it all bottled up.

It would definitely make it easier if I could talk about it only when I felt strong enough to do it. Too bad I can't set the terms of conversations before they start! "OK, before my facial begins today, allow me to set the terms of our small talk. You may discuss the weather, the NBA playoffs (only if you're not a Lakers fan), 80s rock music, and scrapbooking. I will not be answering questions at this time about reproduction. Carry on."

What Not to Say

The list that follows is not intended to be a crazy rant (although it will feel kinda good to get some of it off my chest!), nor is it meant to point a finger at anyone in particular or make them feel awful. In our 7-year-and-counting struggle with infertility my husband and I have heard a lot of things, mostly from well-intentioned people who we know care about us and would never mean to be hurtful. That being said, there are just some things that are hard to hear or just plain not smart to say when someone is hurting. These examples are specific to our situation but perhaps you can relate if you have had some other painful experience.

1. “Think Positive!”
We have heard this one many times. Although I believe that positive thinking is certainly a good thing, especially when the other options are fear and worry, what I don’t like about this advice is that it suggests that there is something simple I can do, just a change in thinking, that will solve the problem. If I just think positive thoughts I’ll surely be able to overcome this problem and everything will be fine. I wish it could be so easy! The fact is that it becomes increasingly hard to be positive when you are stuck in a situation where the thing you desire seems within your grasp and then slips away. Repeatedly. I really do have a hard time in this area of remaining positive and it’s something I constantly work on. But it’s just not that easy piece of the puzzle that I’ve been overlooking for years.

2. “Relax.”
Very much like the positive thinking advice, telling someone to “just relax and everything should work out” is actually even worse. It suggests that there is something I am actively DOING to hinder myself from having a successful pregnancy. I am just too worked up and worried over all of this and if I just relax and get my mind off of it for a while it will happen. I do know that stress and worry are not the best environments for pregnancy, but again I don’t think it’s an easy answer. Obviously there are other things at work here medically that I can’t resolve by having a day at the spa.

3. “Have You Considered Adoption?”
Absolutely! I think most people in this situation for this long have had adoption cross their minds. I think adoption is a fantastic option and have so much respect for folks who choose it. Maybe it is in our future, too. At this point I just can’t say for sure, and I think that’s part of what makes this a hard question to hear over and over. I think it such a huge decision with many steps and emotions involved. I have known people who have never been through infertility at all yet have just “always known” that they would adopt someday. I think these are some of the most special people on the planet! For others (like me), the dream was always just to “be a mom.” I never really broke it down and thought about how I would become a mom. I suppose I always just thought I’d get married and decide to have children and nine months later we’d have a baby. It hasn’t worked out like that at all and I constantly have thoughts about becoming a mom through adoption. I haven’t given up just yet on having biological children (and I know I don’t have to give that up in order to adopt) but my husband and I think adoption is wonderful and we are keeping that option open. Don’t get me wrong here – I don’t think this is a “horrible” thing to ask someone! It does, however, get a little awkward when we are asked this by people we barely know since we think it is quite a personal decision.

4. The Adoption That Leads To Pregnancy
If you are anything like me and have shared in these experiences, I’ll bet you a shiny nickel that you’ve heard a story like this about 7,000 times: “I have a friend who had tried to get pregnant for years. When they finally stopped trying and adopted a child, just a few days later she found out she was pregnant!” As often as I’ve heard this it must be happening pretty frequently. I don’t doubt at all that these are true stories but I don’t really know how they should make me feel better. I’ve even had folks suggest that we begin the adoption process and expect a pregnancy, as sort-of a way to trick fate. Strange, I know. The idea, I think, is that we would get our minds off of trying to have a baby and that’s when it would happen. Kind-of like thinking of a big white horse to make you forget about having the hiccups (my great-grandma’s trick and yes, it works… sometimes).

5. “I Know How You Feel”
The reason I tend to shy away from giving this advice to people who are hurting is because it really is rarely true. I may think I know how they feel but do I really? Can we ever really know how another person is feeling? Maybe sometimes. But I do think it is rare for all of the circumstances to be so similar in our two cases for the statement to hold any water. Then again, I guess I’m writing this to reach out to others who may have experienced these things. It’s like I’m saying, “Hey, read my blog. I’ve been there. I know how you feel.” Ok, so this list isn’t perfect! But the more specific “I Know How You Feel” moment that is hard for me to hear right now is coming up next.

6. The Person with 17 Kids Who Had a Miscarriage between Numbers 11 and 12
The risk of me sounding very coldhearted is very great right here, so I want to start by saying that I know the pain of miscarriage is something that has been felt by many women. There is emotional pain as well as physical pain and such an overwhelming sense of loss (which of course is shared by the men involved). That feeling is certainly relatable by all women who have experienced it, I would guess. Where I often have a problem is when I encounter someone who has a house-full of kids and tells me that they know how I am feeling because they have had a miscarriage before. As I mentioned in the last point, it’s so hard to say that and genuinely know. How could she know how terrifying it is to wonder if you will ever, ever be able to have children? The pain of her loss is every bit as real as the pain of my loss(es) and there certainly may be a time and place to discuss that shared experience. In fact, it has helped me at times to talk to people who have actually experienced miscarriage and I have been able to share some of my experiences as well. But my point is that just as it might be hard to take financial advice from someone who is very wealthy and has never had to do without while you barely have a penny to your name, it’s hard to look at someone who has children and hear, “Hey, it’s ok. I had a miscarriage once too. You’ll get through it,” when you’re right in the middle of that trial and have no idea what your future holds.

7. “Hang In There”
No, “Hang in there” isn’t an inherently bad thing to say, I’ll admit, but one time I was told the following story: “I met a lady today who’d had 10 miscarriages before she ever had her first child. So, hang in there!” I think this came when I was recovering from my fifth miscarriage. I remember thinking, “Dear Lord, please don’t let that be me! I can’t go through this five more times.” In my friend’s defense, she did call me back a few minutes later to apologize because she realized that it was the wrong thing to say. That meant a lot to me. I think it’s safe to assume that a person who is suffering wants out NOW! It’s excruciating to think of enduring that painful circumstance a minute longer before finally having some relief.

8. “Hello, my name is _________.”
Every time I first meet someone I know what’s coming. They are going to ask me how many children I have. Now, I’m not crazy enough to blame a person I don’t know for not knowing my situation! However, I have learned that I don’t need to be a question box when I meet someone. There are plenty of ways to let a conversation flow and get to know someone without firing off 100 questions. And I try not to assume things about people because you just never know where another person is in life. I know men often get asked, “What do you do for a living?” or “Where do you work?” as an ice-breaker, which I’m sure is awkward for the guy who is “in-between jobs right now.”
Never mind the follow-up questions and statements I get after they learn that I, in fact, do not have any kids. To complicate the whole thing, somewhere in the conversation (because yes, women also get the job questions right after the kid questions) they will learn that I am also a homemaker (a “stay-at-home... wife”) and this totally blows their minds! Here are a few of the common ones: “What in the world to you do all day?” “Oh, do you guys just not want any kids?” “How long have you guys been married? Are you just waiting?” And my very least favorite, “Well, if you want some kids I have some you can borrow!”
In order to avoid these moments and simultaneously explain my situation I usually find myself responding with some strange story-of-my-life, run-on sentence like, “No, we don’t have any children yet but we would like to have some it’s just been a struggle and we had no idea it would take this long and be so difficult and I just always wanted to grow up and be a wife and mom so I made the decision to stay home and before we knew it seven years had passed so here we are.” Anyway, you can imagine what a great first impression that makes on people.

9. “Life Is So Unfair”
This is another comment that has come up so many times in conversation. Someone will tell us, “You know, I just don’t understand why God won’t give you guys children when so many other people are having them and don’t deserve them.” What I have to say to that (here, in the privacy of my living room but I wish I had the guts to say it in those moments) is summed up in one word: Mercy. The fact is that, thankfully, God doesn’t give us all what we deserve! As a Christian I believe in a just, loving, and merciful God who created me, loves me, and has a plan for me. That doesn’t mean that I’ll get everything I want or think I should have. Yes, I can pray confidently that one day the Lord will give us children. And I pray that prayer to a God for whom nothing is impossible! But I really don’t think God sits around figuring out how to hand out his blessings. We can’t do anything to earn his grace. He gives it to us as a free gift. We live in a fallen world where bad things sometimes happen to good people and good things sometimes happen to bad people. I have no idea why I’m having trouble having a baby and someone else is not. It’s even hard to envision myself as the “good” person in the scenario. But I can rest in the knowledge that God isn’t considering what we deserve then giving or withholding his blessings. That’s just not biblical. The other point is that God loves that unwed teen who “made a mistake” just as much as he loves his most faithful child (and I don’t mean myself here). Infertility has taken me on a journey that has had many dark and lonely paths. I’m sure the spiritual aspect of it all will be touched on in a separate blog since there’s so much for me to cover. It’s amazing how the same issue has at different times brought me as close to God as I’ve ever felt and as far away.
To sum up this point I would just like to say that in general when someone is hurting and you want to encourage them or give them a compliment, I think the best way to go about it is to come right out with it. If you want to say, “I think you guys would be great parents,” that would be a very nice thing to say. Usually when people look for a round-about way to say something nice it ends up getting lost somewhere in all those words.

10. The Ambush
This next scenario is one I call “the ambush.” Let’s say I’m in the car on my way to a party I’ve been looking forward to attending. My family and friends will be there and I’m just minutes away. I’m giving a friend a ride and just as we’re approaching our destination she turns to me and spills her guts about how I’ve really been on her mind lately and she’s really been praying about my situation. She’s just heartbroken and is hurting so badly for us and just wanted to let me know.
Well, these aren’t necessarily bad things to say to somebody. These are typically very sincere and heartfelt moments. But here’s how the story ends: we pull up to the party and my friend gets out of the car feeling like a weight has been lifted off of her shoulders because she told me something that had been on her mind for months. I, however, am usually in tears by this point. I spend the entire evening having people ask me what’s wrong, and I sit there thinking of how this problem in my life really stinks instead of enjoying what would have been a delightful party.
I have been ambushed in almost every place that I visit on a regular basis: the grocery store, church, parties, reunions, but the worst place of all to ambush me is at a baby shower. I’ll tell you why. Chances are that I’m already doing my very best to put a brave face on and keep it together. The slightest sympathetic word or even look is all it would take for me to lose it. Oh, and if you’re the organizer of the baby shower and there’s someone in the crowd who you know is in the middle of going through infertility, it’s probably not a good idea to suggest that we all go around the room and take turns describing how wonderful it was when we gave birth to our daughters. Yes, that really happened.

11. “Have Fun Trying!”
I won’t dwell on this one for too long but we have heard it and think it’s kind of silly. I’m not being stereotypical, but we have mostly heard it from men. The reality is that if you’ve ever been a couple going through infertility, you know that the “trying” isn’t always what you’d call fun. It can be a challenge to view sex with your spouse as something other than trying to make a baby at just the right time, and it can become very stressful for a couple.

12. The Worst
This list may grow longer (although I sincerely hope it doesn’t!) in the future but for now I have intentionally saved the worst thing for last. I have heard this before and I’m sure that others have been on the receiving end of this one as well. I believe it is the absolute worst thing to say to someone who has had a miscarriage. It is, of course, “It’s for the best because there was probably something wrong with the baby.” Even if there were any way of knowing that I just don’t see how this remark could ever be helpful to anyone.


*Maybe you’re reading this and you are the friend or family member of someone facing infertility. Maybe I’ve overwhelmed you and you think there’s absolutely nothing you could ever say to make your loved one feel better. That may actually be true, but please don’t give up on them! Here are a few great things to say to someone who is hurting - as long as you mean it and as long as you’re careful not to “ambush” them!:
1. I’m sorry you have to go through this horrible thing.
2. I love you and I’m here for you.
3. I’m praying for you.
4. And finally, if you don’t know what to say, that’s ok. Just say “I really don’t know what to say…” on its own or followed by any of the others listed above. It’s ok that you don’t have just the right words. There are no right words. Sadly, there are lots of wrong words. But don’t let that scare you. Your friend will know when you are sincere. I’ve felt abandoned by many friends who just don’t know what to say and so they don’t try. They just give up and we pretty much lose touch completely. If you have said the wrong thing (which I have also done), don’t be afraid to apologize.

Thanks for letting me talk about one of the many bad things that I’ve had to deal with in this situation over the years! I hope it has been helpful to you in one way or another.