It's been awhile since I posted about my walk of infertility and it's heavy on my heart today. Something about the dreary, rainy days outside makes me think about the deep depression that can overtake a woman who desperately wants a baby. If you haven't read the archives, let me back up and tell you why infertility is so close to my heart.
I'm Amber and I'm infertile. Yep, you got it... totally and completely barren. Here's my story:
I got my period (or Aunt Flo, as all proper southern women call her) late. I was 13 and the last in my group of friends to "become a woman". I was so excited to spot those first traces of my period because I knew that meant I could be a mom one day.
Well, my first period was also my last one for over a year. My mom said, "Don't worry... it happens to lots of girls!" So I just took pads to school and pretended to need them like the other girls. Eventually Aunt Flo came back, but she never appeared every month. Usually 3 or 4 times a year... at the most.
By the time I turned 16, Aunt Flo was becoming a problem. When she did show up, she caused extreme pain. I literally couldn't function when I had my period. The doctor put me on birth control to see if that would help. It did help control things a bit, but I stayed fairly miserable even then.
During my second year of college, my ovaries decided to flare up at the worst possible moment. Right when I was having the best time of my life, I found myself laying in the hospital needing exploratory surgery. The doctor said "endometriosis" had to be the problem, but when they got inside, there was none in sight. She did mention that my ovaries were pretty big, and I had signs of cystic ovaries. More medication, new birth control pills, and I was sent home to recover.
One year later, I was dating the guy of my dreams... head over heels in love with Josh, when I experienced the excruciating pain again. The doctor did blood work this time, which confirmed "polycystic ovarian syndrome". I had never heard of it, but it sounded horrible. I asked her, "Can I have children?"
She looked at me. I was 19 and very much in love. I also wanted kids more than anything in the world. She didn't look me in the eye when she said, "Your levels are pretty bad. You'll never get pregnant. I'm so sorry. You don't even need to try... it just won't happen."
I got married a few months later, trying not to worry about my diagnosis too much. I didn't know much about PCOS and I figured ignorance was bliss, right? WRONG.
We didn't worry about getting pregnant since the doctor said it wouldn't happen. So 8 months after the wedding, I wasn't prepared for what happened. My periods were still irregular and one Sunday morning, Aunt Flo showed up unannounced. As I sat through church, the cramps got worse and worse. By the time we got home, it was snowing and I was laying in the floor, curled up and sobbing. I needed help, quick.
My husband went 75 miles per hour in the icy mess to get me to an urgent care. There, we learned the news that I was having a miscarriage. I didn't even know I was pregnant. Only one word would describe it... devastation.
I was at my regular OB-GYN the next morning at 8 am, demanding an explanation. She was shocked. She didn't even know what to say! She said, "Well, if you can get pregnant, we better do it quick!" So we started 6 months of metformin (glucophage) and Clomid and a lot of baby dancing... and we did conceive! That's how we got this little beauty...
After Ally was born, we immediately wanted to try for another baby. We knew it could be a long process, but we were hopeful. About 7 months into trying, the doctor put me on Provera to force me to start my period. Then I could start another round a clomid... Apparently, I was pregnant and it didn't show up on the test, because 3 days into the Provera, I repeated the devastation from several years earlier. Another miscarriage. Another lost life. And a lot of guilt and depression followed.
After 18 months of metformin, clomid, HCG injections, and a new reproductive endocrinologist... we found out we were pregnant with another little one. I started bleeding at 11 weeks and bled throughout the entire pregnancy. I went on bedrest when it started, and then found myself in the hospital with preterm labor at 23 weeks. The doctors kept me pumped full of meds, and I was able to carry my little man until almost 2 months before my due date. He had severe respiratory distress and sepsis at birth, but he made it! Here he is...
It turns out that the last pregnancy ruined my uterus. After Walker's birth, I bled for 4 months straight. That's when the reproductive endocrinologist said, "Enough is enough. You've got to have a hysterectomy now."
So at 24 years old, I had a total hysterectomy. He sent my ovaries (which were the size of grapefruits) to the lab, along with my uterus, which he said looked suspicious.
No cancer (Praise God!), but the doctor said it could've become that at some point. We did the right thing. He said my uterus had major adenomyosis and my ovaries were completely encapsulated by the cysts.
So to sum it up, my name is Amber and I'm infertile. I love pregnancy. I love birth. I love babies. I even trained to be a birth doula and I've assisted in 3 births. But I can't have babies of my own anymore. I've researched everything I could about infertility as I tried to conceive. And I feel such a compassion for other women who are struggling to realize the dream of motherhood.
God feels great compassion for them too. The Bible is full of their stories, meant to inspire, encourage, and comfort us. Just look at the women who were "barren" for years....
Sarah.
Rebekah.
Hannah.
Recognize these names? Remember their children? The men who made major impacts on their world, paving the way for Jesus to come and bring salvation? Yep, all of these women were infertile. Only, it just so happens that God doesn't act on a doctor's diagnosis of "infertile". He is God, after all!
So now I've introduced myself... so who are you? What is your story? Let's list the names, the stories, the desires of all the women we know who want to become pregnant. I would love to make a list of your names, your faces, and your blogs if you wish. Let's pray for these women. Encourage them, lift them up to the Father, and ask for His will, His blessing, and His peace in their lives.
Take a moment to watch this video before you comment. Grab a tissue (or a box) first. If you are like me, you will be ugly crying within 30 seconds.
4 comments:
List of things to do today:
Big Ugly Cry (Check)
Fold Laundry
Finish Cleaning House
Pray for God's guidance (Check, check, check)
I think you get the picture here. Please add me to the list. And thank you, I can't wait to see you and share the amazing story that is already beginning to be written for me.
I got pregnant with my first daughter unintentionally but was madly in love with her. When we decided to give her a sibling we conceived pretty quick but miscarried.
After that miscarriage I got pregnant right away with my second daughter. When she was born I noticed that something wasn't right with my body.
I was diagnosed with PCOS, too. We tried for 13 months (longest we've ever tried to conceive) and got pregnant the moment we "stopped trying". Our little one went to be with Jesus.
And now I am pregnant again. It's so hard to say, "I'm infertile" after you've had children but secondary infertility is so very real and scary.
Amber, thanks for sharing your story. So many women need to hear these stories for support and comfort. Marc and I married in fall of 2004. About a month or so after the wedding we found out we were pregnant. I was thrilled and terrified at the same time. It wasn't planned, and I was scared that I wasn't ready--financially, emotionally, mentally, in our marriage, etc. But I accepted it fears and all. At 12 weeks I started spotting. I had read about spotting in pregnancy, but didn't think anything was wrong, after all, I was new at this and very naive. The spotting had started on a Friday so I put myself on bed rest through the weekend vowing if it continued I would go into the doctor. It came and went off and on. On Wednesday February 12th I went to the doctor. They did an in office ultra sound and then sent me to the hospital for a second ultra sound. They found that the baby had "stopped growing". I asked my midwife if that was a nice way of saying that the baby had died. She looked at me with that look and just shook her head. Even though I was at 12 weeks, the baby had actually stopped growing at 9.5 weeks. Of course I went into hysterics. I cried, almost to the point of making myself sick. I called my mom who came right up from GA to be with me. I told the doctor that I did not want a D&C and that I wanted to pass it naturally. I wanted time to be with the baby inside me and say goodbye properly. I had no clue when this baby would leave my body so I wanted to have time to say goodbye. I know this sounds weird to some, and it was weird for me to have a dead baby in me. But it was my baby and I needed that closure my way. Early Friday February 14th, I woke to horrible pains and cramps. My mom was on her way to town, and I called her about 4:30am. I had begun the process of passing the tissue. By morning, I had said goodbye to my first child. For months after that I went into really bad depression. I tried to hide it, but it was always there. I felt guilt. I wondered did I cause this by my fears and questions of if I really was ready to be a mom. I seriously beat myself up over it for months. A break in our life caused us to move back to Asheville which was a welcomed change in my life. I couldn't be in that apartment anymore; I couldn't sleep on the same side of the bed; I changed everything from the way it was when I was pregnant. Asheville offered some comfort, mainly a new start. People didn't know and didn't have to know unless I told them. My periods were irregular from there on which the doctor said was normal. In the fall of 2005, I decided to do a random pregnancy test since my periods had been so random. To my shock and this time a lot more joy, I was pregnant. This pregnancy was a success. Last year, I found that I had miscarried again early on in the pregnancy. Had I not taken one of those early pregnancy tests I would have probably never known and would have assumed it to be a late heavy period. I feel very blessed for the child I have. I hope for more, but I fully understand and feel for the women who do struggle whether it be full infertilty or a random miscarriage. We as woman are the carriers of life, and to have that life grow inside us and have it leave against our will or choice, it can be very painful and devastating. Sorry to have hi-jacked this post, Amber, but thanks for letting me share. I hadn't talked about that in awhile, and I needed that.
Amber...Ugly Cry is right!.. I often regret the way I reacted over the news that Brad and I were having Addson...I was terrified...but I often think about it again and again and how if it was to never happen again. How sad. Addison taught me that things happen in God's time not mine..and for that I am forever grateful. I wonder if you felt the some way I did when I held Addison for the 1st time or if you felt it even more strongly. What a miracle. People sometimes focus on the door that is closed so much that they forget there may be another way. I wish you well in your adoption...
Post a Comment