Tuesday, June 1, 2010


Well, I ovulated. About 2 weeks ago. I know this because I am, without a shadow of a doubt, not pregnant. (Although this is when my mind gets really creative and tells me things like, "There is that one woman you know who still got her period when she was pregnant, so maybe?" Oh mind, how I would love to quiet you!)

Downside: I am not pregnant. Obvious disappointment.

Upside: I ovulated. And that means that the new medicine (Metformin) did its job. (Or my body did it on its own; also good.)

So I guess that's progress. It gives me something to work with at least. Now back to the charts, calendars, etc. An observant United Methodist might be chuckling about now because you know what's going on in about 2 weeks. Don't worry; we'll make it work. We don't really need to go to all of those meetings. ;)

We are now beginning month ten of "trying," which is such an unfortunate term. I guess that means that we have now "failed" nine times in a row. John and I don't like to fail. And we want a baby. The earliest possible due date is now early March. That seems like a really, really long way off. There's still a good chance this kiddo would make an early appearance as well, though.

I like to plan. I like to schedule. I like to organize (our lives, not our stuff). Infertility is inconvenient. And it's sad. And it's frustrating. And it's maddening.

But this time around (even though it is taking significantly longer than it did with Becca), it doesn't feel tragic to me. Yes, it hurts every time I hear about one of the millions and billions of pregnant women that I know. Seriously, I have close to 1,000 facebook friends, and I think a full 900 of them are pregnant right now. Of course I am terribly happy for my friends, I really am, but there is a sting and often some tears.

Here's the thing, though: I am a mom. I have been blessed with the most amazing, beautiful, fantastic, strong and hilarious girl that I have ever met, and she's my daughter! My little girl! True, I know our family is not complete. True, I want another child desperately. But in the meantime, I get to snuggle, wrestle and parent Becca Hill. How lucky am I? Seriously, could I ask for more?

Well, yeah, I can ask, and I do. My heart aches for another little one (preferably not an itty bitty one, though!). But my heart is also bursting with joy and pride because

I am a mother.

We are experiencing secondary infertility; that is, we are having trouble conceiving another child, not our first child. I have several friends dealing with infertility currently, and many of you readers have dealt with it in the past. It's an odd sorority, but we women stand with each other in this sort of ordeal. But I think that my pain is different than the pain of mothers-in-waiting who don't have a child already. I remember the sheer terror I experienced. What if I'm never a mother? Sure that's not the only goal I had in my life, but it's the one I cared the most about, hands down. And now I am. So I am happy. And I realize just how lucky and blessed I am.

For now, John and I are planning on pursuing the same plan of care, as the docs say. We'll give it some more time, get this move behind us, and get settled in before we change anything. Adoption is in the back of my mind, but I am well aware of the enormous emotion and financial investment required by any kind of adoption. We'll see.

I want to say something to any women reading this post who are currently dealing with primary infertility. But I don't know what it is. I guess I want you to know that I haven't forgotten your struggle. I want you to know that when I talk about our struggles with infertility, in the same breath, I am counting my blessings. I want to say, "Hang in there. It's so worth it." I don't really know what I want to say...maybe that, tonight, I'm thinking about you and tossing a prayer up to the matriarchs of my faith who longed for children of their own thousands of years ago. You are not alone. And if you feel like you are, check out Genesis 30. My favorite verse is is verse 22:

"Then God remembered Rachel; he listened to her and opened her womb."

May God remember each of us...and SOON!


  1. I can't imagine how you and others experiencing infertility--primary or secondary--feel. Kate was a surprise, and I do wonder how easy or difficult it will be to conceive the next one, when we start trying. Blessings on you and your womb.

    And as to the big UM event in two weeks... I'm sure there is a youth room at BUMC that has bene used for such purposes before!

  2. I feel your pain...Jason and I have been "trying" for quite some time now and no baby thus far...it's definitely frustrating and it feels like everyone I know is pregnant too..hopefully it will happen for both of us soon and we'll have happy healthy babies!

  3. How well I know your pain. I bawled all the way home from a baby shower this spring and was an utter mess. When dealing with infertility it feels like EVERYONE is pregnant but you. The first "fertile" week after starting clomid was of course the week my parents were in town. Yes, there was a very significant melt-down on my end. My friend Suzanne told me to shake my fist at the sky and yell - I'm mad God! I'm not happy! This is hard! It felt better. Hang in there!!! Sending prayers.

  4. I can certainly relate Nancy. You know my story and we have been trying again for a few months now ... with no luck. I've had more blood drawn than I could have ever imagined was needed. And for now we just keep trying - though there may be some 'treatment' next cycle. I remind myself all the time that one day this will all be worth it.

    I hope it happens for both of us soon.
    -Colleen F

  5. This post was so beautifully written, Nancy. You have a real gift for expressing the profound in such a wonderfully simple manner. As I look forward to my wedding that's eight weeks away and begin to think towards my future as a wife and a mom (my deepest yearning in life!), I do feel pangs of sadness knowing that health problems and medications will likely prevent me from conceiving--and would cause major problems for any child I were to conceive. Although my fiance and I have already integrated adoption into our "life plan" and feel very called to develop our family in that way, it still sort of breaks my heart to know that I won't get that experience of carrying that little being for nine months as the miracle of life emerges, of birthing my child, of being able to look at "our" child and see "our" features: my fiance's red hair, my dimples, whatever. I'll say some extra prayers for you and John tonight as you try to grow your family. And, thanks for remembering those who are struggling to get pregnant for the first time, and those who know that they'll never have that chance.