God, Infertility, and Lupron

Two months into the Lupron Depot injection, I find each day to be a struggle both physically and mentally.  The side effects make me feel like I am extremely hung over, ill with the flu, and pregnant all at once.  I am exhausted from getting up every 10 to 30 minutes all night to urinate – not to mention the hot flashes and night sweats that have my body so confused that I alternate between a tank top and fan in freezing weather to sweats and thick socks.  My emotions are all over the place – sad, happy, and angry, all within a short time span.  If not for prayer, some understanding from my husband, and the tiny bit of self control I have left, I am not sure what would happen to my marriage.

I am unsure if I am the only one who is experiencing these problems or simply the only one talking about it.  Typically I do not like my life on display as I am an extremely private person. However, writing is way less expensive than therapy.  If I can help one other person dealing with infertility just by letting them know they are not alone then that is even better.  I am not a victim, nor am I looking for sympathy – this is simply just a way to deal with this battle.

Each time I was diagnosed with another condition, my chances of conceiving dwindled, and I told myself it was God’s way of saying I was not meant to be a mother. Up until less than two years ago, I never wanted to get married and have kids, and God was just giving me what I previously thought I wanted.  I even went so far as to convince myself that I was being punished for past transgressions.  With two surgeries in the past year for feminine issues and a myriad of other health problems, I had really reached the end of my rope. My ob/gyn had been discussing the Lupron Depot injection for a while, and it was ordered and an injection appointment was set about a month after my last surgery.  I went into the appointment unsure if I wanted the injection. I was terrified of Lupron after reading all of the horror stories – it suppresses estrogen (in an attempt to shrink the endometriosis) which puts your body into a menopause-like state.  I talked to my husband about it, and he told me he would support whatever I chose to do. I told my doctor that I really did not want the injection and practically begged her for a complete hysterectomy. I was sick of the constant pain, bleeding, and surgeries. My marriage was struggling, and I was just ready to be done with the issue once and for all.

My doctor told me that if I wanted a hysterectomy she would not deny me, but if there was any chance at all I wanted to conceive to please try Lupron first. I asked about trying to conceive without the Lupron and then having a hysterectomy.  “No. You are absolutely not ovulating. You probably have not ovulated for a very long time. You have done EVERYTHING you can, and Lupron is your best option. I think you should try the three month injection and then Clomid to try to jumpstart your ovaries for ovulation,” she informed me. I felt like I had been slapped in the face. I knew I had problems and that my chances of conceiving were less than 2%, but this information really put things into perspective.  I said a quick prayer that I would make the right decision, and something (God?) told me to try the Lupron.

I think I finally realized that God is not punishing me. The health issues are out of my control - other than taking my medications consistently. I must prioritize being healthy and having a healthy marriage centered on God.  I have a feeling that when these things are where they need to be, everything else will fall into place. I question Him sometimes, and I often wonder why I have to go through everything the hard way. 

Some days I get upset when I see people seemingly magically getting pregnant without even planning it…or when I hear about mothers who have nine children and abuse and neglect them yet she is able to keep on conceiving…and although I may wish it was me also, I am always happy for my precious friends who have recently delivered healthy, beautiful babies.
On my darkest days, I cry privately and then cheer myself up by thinking of baby names. I think of names and write them down on paper until I have forgotten all of my worries and then I start to think of my chances of conceiving are as real. I also visit my secret (now not so secret) baby board on Pinterest. I start to see a little light at the end of the tunnel every time I think positive thoughts or just talk to God about it.

Last night I had a pregnancy dream, which has occurred before, but this time felt different – so I texted my husband about it:

Me: “I had an extremely vivid dream that I was pregnant. You and Tracy were with me. It was supposed to be a girl. My water broke, and I woke up and had to pee.”

Him: “Was it **** (secret name we have chosen for our girl)?

*I did not tell him this, but his response could not have been more perfect – it made me smile and cry simultaneously*

Me: (In an effort not to get my hopes up) “Idk maybe. Or someone is about to announce they are pregnant.  It was Hanna last time I dreamed I was preg”

*Upon second thought, several minutes later*
Me: “I think it was her”

Wanderlust

After reading and learning about the fascinating discoveries of explorers when I was nine years old, I proudly announced to my stepmother that I wanted to be an explorer when I grew up. “You can’t; everything has already been discovered,” she replied. She was always one to crush many imaginative notions I may have possessed. Spirit crushed but not completely broken, I vowed to myself to one day travel and see the world. Some people dream of getting married and having children, but all I ever wanted was to travel.

In 2010 I was working a job that was draining me. After two and a half years as an office supervisor at Simmons’ Sporting Goods, I walked out after being repeatedly yelled at, in the middle of their biggest sale. I did not know what I was going to do, but I knew I could not take another second of their abuse. I was shaking as I drove home to my dog, Jetta, in our one bedroom apartment. I spent three weeks hanging out by the pool and playing with Jetta. I had never felt so much relief to be out of a bad situation. Eventually I started getting very anxious about what would happen next. I applied for jobs and received three offers immediately. I took them all before eventually settling on the highest paying position at a bank. I still needed a change, so I decided it was time to see more of the world. I was 25, mostly single, without children, so I expedited the passport process, bought tickets to Germany for Jetta and myself, packed and shipped what I needed, and sold/donated the rest.

I was anxious, delighted, scared out of my mind but finally felt like I was doing something I needed to do. Many people have questioned me on taking Jetta with me. I was initially conflicted on the issue, but I knew I could not leave without her. She was 10 months old and my whole world. She had to travel in her kennel underneath, and I felt like the worst baby dog mother. A cheap international ticket equals sitting in the middle section at the very back of the plane – close to where the dogs travel beneath. I could hear them barking and crying, and it broke my heart. I was crying when the flight attendant came to take my drink order, so they felt bad for me and gave me free drinks the entire flight. Needless to say, I was a bit over served. I did not misbehave, but I definitely slept extremely well most of that long flight.

I experienced the most exciting year of my life and met so many wonderful people. I am still close friends with some of them. I have been to the top of the Eiffel Tower, seen the Mona Lisa, Buckingham Palace, Amsterdam, beautiful Germany, and many other memorable places. The Eiffel Tower and the Mona Lisa cannot be explained, but they were not disappointing as some people have wondered. The feeling of peace and calm when I stepped into Notre Dame is something you can only experience for yourself to understand. In Trier, I got to see an actual nail from when Jesus was nailed to the cross. I attended a Katy Perry concert as well as Bon Jovi and was even fortunate enough to see Trace Adkins perform on the tenth anniversary of 9/11 for the troops at Ramstein.

It took walking through my German village every day and saying, “hallo, guten morgen, and auf wiedersehen” to the locals before they warmed up to me, but they did. The French, who are portrayed to be the worst to Americans, were even nicer. When my friend and I came out of the metro, and stepped out into Paris, we were a bit overwhelmed. Map in hands, eyes wide and searching, two people approached to help us. Thankfully, my French is pretty decent, (I did win the French award two years in high school after all) so I did great in Paris. They always appreciate when you attempt to speak their language even if you mess up.

I would not trade my travel experiences for anything, and with so many places left to see, I am not yet finished. I encourage everyone to step out of your comfort zones, and go see other places.

The Last Meal on Death Row

Today I read a piece about the last meals of 12 individuals on death row. It was very interesting to read the details about these people and see the pictures of their last meal, yet I found the whole situation quite unsettling. I feel like they are saying, "Enjoy a special meal on us for your troubles before we kill you." Very disturbing to me... If I was facing death, I would just want to be done...without a meal, just kill me.

I do not agree with the death penalty, and many of you will dislike me for saying so. I cannot comprehend why we have laws against murder, and then kill people. What does this teach? "Do as I say, not as I do," is what comes to mind. Often innocent people are on death row and many innocent people have died. I do not understand how this is justified, and then we have George Zimmerman and Casey Anthony roaming free. I am not saying they should be killed - just examples of people who I believe have more evidence against them than others on death row.

With all of that said, if someone ever harmed a person I love - would I change my mind?
Read the article, and tell me what you think.

Greater Expectations

I hate to see people hurt, sad, and disappointed so throughout the years I developed quite a knack for making other people feel good. Now I am not Ellen DeGeneres – I do not have millions of dollars to make all your wishes come true and I am only considered funny if you are into a dry, sarcastic sense of humor -  but I can be your biggest cheerleader and lift your spirits when you are having a bad day. Imagine my surprise when my husband recently commented on my negativity.

One of the things I say the most to others is quit looking at the negative and see the positive. Don’t have any money left in your bank account because you just paid your bills? That’s great news – you had enough money to cover your finances! Some stupid guy whom you thought you may marry just ended your relationship? Yes, it hurts, but thank God it happened before you got married.  You have a big dream no one else understands? I will champion your idea and support you all the way. It is never too late to travel the world, further your education, or do just about anything else your heart desires.

So why in the world my husband ever accuse me of being negative?  After a major questioning on the subject, he informed me that I am negative when it comes to me.  I tried to shrug it off because no big deal, right? Wrong.  I can cheer up him and the rest of the world every single day, but I think it literally drives him crazy that I do not do the same for myself.

When I have a problem, I feel like it is because I have done something wrong to cause it - even things completely out of my control like health issues. I am a perfectionist, and I truly believe that I deserve whatever bad thing is happening because of some past failure.  I grew up this way, it is deeply embedded in me, and I am finally facing it.  As a child, I was the peacemaker in the family, the oldest, the one who never got sick, and the one who never felt quite good enough. I was the one who held it together for everyone else. Now as an adult, I find myself practicing the same behaviors.  I have finally been forced to realize that I hold myself to greater expectations. It hurts my husband, it hurts our marriage, and I had no idea.

I Judge People

Sometimes I judge people. Not aloud but in my mind I often find myself automatically judging people for the way they speak, dress, wear their hair or make-up, treat their children, etc, etc, etc. I do not think I am better than others, and overall I am quite friendly to all types of people. So why do I judge people?

This past Saturday while shopping for my nephew’s first birthday gift I saw a woman with two children: a girl of about 7 and a toddler boy. The girl was quiet, well mannered and doing her best to mother the toddler who was screaming and having constant tantrums. The mother looked distressed to say the least. She was overweight – now I have gained a few pounds myself, but she was just sloppy and poorly dressed – was not wearing any make-up which she could have used, oily hair, and had a look of pure panic in her eyes. These are all the things I was thinking about her when I first saw her. Our paths crossed several times throughout the store as the boy ran wild, screaming and crying and ran into me more than once. I love children, so this never angered me. I felt sorry for the little boy and just wanted to give him a hug. Admittedly I was already sad and feeling sorry for myself while shopping for my nephew’s gift. I love baby O so much, but I could not block the intense feeling of sadness that reminded me I was not shopping for a child of my own. The child I am unable to conceive. I kept asking myself why isn’t this mother comforting her child?

I had just experienced one of the roughest weeks of my life but only a handful of people knew about this. If you looked at me in the store that day, you would think here is a woman who is well dressed, happy, and has her life together. Appearances are so very deceiving. I had not been able to eat for days because I was so sick with stress and had actually lost some weight and looked good in my clothes that day. Astonishing what the right make-up can do to conceal dark circles under the eyes. Add a little mascara, blush, and lip gloss, plaster a smile on my face, and I looked like a new person. The way I looked outside was completely opposite of what was going on inside.

I typically break down and look my worst in private. Staying strong, cheering up others, and never showing weakness is very important to me. No one outside of about three people ever asks me if I am okay because I appear to be strong. If you could peel back the layers, I would look worse on the inside than that poor mother did on the outside. Who am I to judge? I was jealous of that woman who did not have it together because she has something God is not ready for me to have.

I went to church the next day, and the priest could not have given a more powerful message for me. I sat there crying silently with tears running down my face. Even as my husband asked if I was okay and tried to comfort me, I held my breath to stop the tears and keep it together. Sometimes it is okay to not be okay.