A few words on infertility

IT REALLY SUCKS!!!

I’m sure I could leave it at that and get a resounding AMEN from girls everywhere who deal with the struggle that is infertility, but since I brought the topic up I may as well run with it.

The thing about infertility is it’s not always easy to spot. Just because a couple has one or two kids doesn’t mean they don’t struggle with it. We do. Me specifically. 

In case you’ve never read my blog before {hi there!}, I have two beautiful little boys. Both a blessing. Both an answer to prayer. And both a BIG surprise.

I knew going into this that I would have trouble conceiving if I was even able to at all. You see, I have amenorrhea, which means that I don’t have periods. Nice for everyday life, but it makes having babies a real challenge.

[Side note: I’d like to go back in time and punch the scientist that named the condition. Could he – and I can promise you it was a guy – not have named it something else?? Perhaps something that, oh, I don’t know, DOESN”T SOUND LIKE AN STD???] 

At 20, my OBGYN told me to come see her right away when we decided to start our family. Most girls under 35 should try for a year before seeking help, but she knew we’d have fertility issues and was basically like “Don’t waste your time. See me first.” When we felt we were ready, I headed straight for her office. Lots of tests. Lots of fertility meds. No baby. No answers. IVF wasn’t covered by insurance and the cost kept it from being an option. After nearly 3 years of trying, we decided to go the adoption route. Shortly after filling out the paperwork it happened: morning sickness from H.E.DOUBLEHOCKEYSTICKS. I burst into tears when the test read positive. So did Brad. I promptly took 10 more tests. It looked something like this scene from Scrubs: 

After Ezra was born, I naïvely thought that somehow I was fixed – that the floodgates of babymaking were opened and I could have another one whenever I wanted. WRONG! After a year of trying panic set in. I wanted our kids to be close in age. Ezra was 2 and there was no baby on the horizon. Eek! So I called and arranged our home study for the adoption and scheduled an appointment with a reproductive endocrinologist in Savannah. A week before the appointment we found out we were pregnant. Go figure.

Here we are now. We’ve been trying for over a year and a half. Fertility meds haven’t worked and I’m sitting here feeling a little sad, anxious and disappointed. Even if I get pregnant tomorrow there will be a near three year space between Memphis and the next one and an almost 6 year gap with Ezra. I’m envious of girls like Grace that are able to have them back to back. Three under 3? Sign me up!

Maybe it’s because I want one so bad, but it feels like everyone is having babies. Several of my friends at church are expecting and every time I get on Facebook  or frequent blogs there are more announcements. I feel like we’ve tried so long that friends have announced they were pregnant, had a baby, and announced they’re pregnant again. At one point I could swear that the vast majority of my female facebook friends were pregnant.

My sister is pregnant, too. She waited forever to tell me for fear of upsetting me. I couldn’t be happier for her. Or any of my friends for that matter. And I say that with complete and utter sincerity. I love babies so finding out someone else is expecting is the next best thing to finding out I’m pregnant. That doesn’t mean it isn’t hard, though. I choked back tears through the phone call with my sister. (Erin, please don’t feel bad. I hope you pop out at least 10 more kids. Okay, I’ll settle for 3.) 

Some [rude/obnoxious/judgmental] people might  say “Hey, two’s plenty. Be happy with what you’ve got.” I don’t care. I want another one of these:

How can you not melt into a gooey sappy mess when you see a face like this? ♥♥♥