Struggles with Infertility

Being a parent is not something that everyone has as a goal in life. But once you decide that you want to be a parent, and you are unable to, your life can either unravel, or you can try to find meaning in your struggles. This blog is me trying to find meaning.

Saturday, August 5, 2017

The Importance of Being Honest

We are still in a holding pattern, which is why I've been slow with blog posts. My posts here always happen after I've given some good thought to what I'm going to say, and to be honest, I've not been giving a lot of thought to our fertility journey the last few months. However, we are coming up on a year since our 2016 IVF, and I've come to the unfortunate realization that I'm coming up on 40 (what?!).

Throughout this process we have had times where we are not on the same page. In fact, we are usually on different pages, if not completely different chapters. It's a re-occurring theme requiring some honest conversations to find ourselves somewhere in the middle. Generally our conversations relate to timing, though recently it's been focused on next steps. But the key is that we have those horribly painful honest conversations, and communicate our individual expectations and boundaries. I also want to point out that expectations and boundaries can change over time for each partner, which is why it's important to keep talking.

Another point I wanted to make was that sometimes it's ok to say you no longer want ownership over driving your fertility journey. Typically, in a heterosexual relationship, it's the woman's job to do the research, make the appointments, handle the finances, find the surrogate, and so on. That is a huge burden, especially over time, and especially when you also need to continue to work on being aligned. Sometimes you need to step back and say you need help. If you're both in this together, maybe sharing the workload is a reasonable approach in your relationship. Work together for your shared outcome: a baby. Of course, I recognize that every relationship is different, so do what works for you. But make sure it's a joint decision. You're in this together, for the long run.

Friday, March 10, 2017

The Tipping Point

At some point earlier this year, as I wrote '2017' as part of a date in my notebook, I realized that we have entered year ten of trying to conceive. It was a bit of a shock; we are in the double digits, can ascribe the term 'decade' to our journey now. To say it and think it, it seems like forever, but to experience it is different. It doesn't seem quite that long (I was also a teenager just a few years ago, I swear!).


I think I've mentioned before that our first recorded pregnancy was discovered as we were losing it. It was right around the time Derek was finishing Fire Training school, and we weren't yet prepared to be parents. Despite that, the hope and short term joy that had been triggered in that small span of time before it was a confirmed loss was enough to push us towards wanting to actually try.


You all know most of the story that follows. The years of heartbreak, sorrow, and grief. But what I wanted to write about was my tipping point. The point where I was finally ok with being a parent, or not. The point where I could talk about our sad journey without dissolving in to tears. Where I could talk about a life without kids, and be ok with it. I started reflecting on this after I had a conversation with a friend last week about our infertility and she said 'How do you talk about this without crying?' as she teared up on our behalf.


That tipping point for me came about two and a half years ago. It started as a question from our therapist (whom we've been with for almost a decade as well, and which I strongly recommend for anyone). She asked me if I would "be happy with just Derek for the rest of your life?" She was asking me what makes me whole. Would I be whole and happy only if we had children? Or could I be whole and happy if it was just Derek and I?


I spent some time reflecting on this, and ultimately came to the decision that yes, I could be happy if it was just the two of us. He makes me whole already. Kids would be a bonus. In fact, I've surprisingly started to swing in the other direction, where I am enjoying life child free, able to spend money on myself and be spontaneous. We're going to give it one last big push with donor eggs in 2018, but ultimately we're doing that so we make sure we have no regrets.


So now, when I tear up, it's when I talk about already being whole. I'll be ok if it's just us. Just us is also a great outcome.