Our Infertility Journey - Part Six

This is part six of six posts on our Infertility Journey. To read all six posts, click here. Posts are in reverse chronological order, so you'll want to start reading at the bottom of that page. :)

So, we had IUI on April 11, 2002. Instructions were multiple and I'll spare you some of them. :) The main thing was to do a pregnancy test with first morning urine on April 25 - and NOT before. That was a Thursday. On Tuesday evening, we had a "Welcome Home" event at church. I was on the Women's Ministry board and so had to be there. I remember I was so hot! I was fanning myself and kept saying, "We really need to turn down the air, it is HOT in here!" Kim and Wanda were laughing at me..."You're so pregnant!" I shrugged and said, "I don't know and won't know until Thursday." Kim asked, "When are you supposed to start?" (amazing how all those things are suddenly not personal when you're trying to get pregnant) "Yesterday." "So, you're late?" "Yes" "And you're hot?" "Yes" "Oh girl! Go home and test! You're pregnant!!!!" I couldn't. I just couldn't - and wouldn't - let myself go there.

On Wednesday, I called Kim on my way home from the office. "Kim, I can't believe I'm saying this but I am...I think I might be pregnant! I still haven't started. I have some pretty major breast tenderness...I'm hot all the time,but especially in the middle of the night." She said, "You better CALL ME tomorrow morning when you test! I think you're definitely pregnant. You sound it! I'll be praying." I asked her to pray for my heart - that God would guard it.

On Thursday morning, I woke up at 4:30 and needed to potty. I knew that would mean I needed to test. I didn't want to. I laid in bed for an hour, wrestling with the fear of testing yet again and it being negative yet again. I prayed to start. I remember saying, "Lord, I'd rather start my period than see another negative pregnancy test. Just let me start, okay?" For an hour I fought the need to pee...an HOUR! Finally at 5:30, I got up and took the test.

I stood at my bathroom counter, with my back to it, and prayed for a couple of minutes. I continued to ask God to protect me from sinful disappointment. I turned around and looked at the test. Was that a line? Oh. My. I think that's a line! It IS! THAT'S A LINE, GOD! But...You already knew that, didn't You?! I'm pregnant! And so, Elizabeth Jane was on her way. :) And...my husband didn't have a full-time job. But amazingly, I wasn't concerned. I knew that God gave us this baby, He would provide for us. He did. Elizabeth was born on January 3, 2003 (after a rather difficult pregnancy) and Brad started his job with the State on January 15, 2003 - he found out he'd been hired on December 30. God's timing is perfect.

And now, I am living proof that when God opens the womb - He really opens it! I'm also proof that He has a great sense of humor. :) After dealing with infertility for over nine years, I went on to be pregnant five times in five years and have four children. Wow.

Our Infertility Journey - part Five

This is part five of six posts on our Infertility Journey. To read all six posts, click here. Posts are in reverse chronological order, so you'll want to start reading at the bottom of that page. :) 

I can't believe that in all this, I forgot to share one of the biggest things that I found to be an encouragement to me! On April 2, 2000 (it was a Sunday) while we were sitting in Sunday School, my friend Kim looked up at me during class with this "I can't believe I didn't tell you!" look on her face. She grabbed her husband's Bible, turned to a passage of Scripture and pushed the Bible across the table to me (she, Jim, Brad and I were the only ones sitting at our table that morning). She said, "There are two things I pray for you every Thursday in this verse. Two things. 113:9" She was pointing to Psalm 113. Verse 9 says "He settles the barren woman in her home as a happy mother of children. Praise the LORD." (that's the NIV version) I looked up at Kim and burst into tears - I thought I'd read every verse in the Bible that dealt with barren women - I'd not seen this one! The two things she was praying was that we would find the perfect house for us and that God would make me the happy mother of children. She found the verse when she was searching for verses about being a joyful mother. The NASB version of the verse says: "He makes the barren woman abide in the house As a joyful mother of children. Praise the LORD!" Little did we know how God would answer those prayers! And not only was Kim praying for me - but her three girls were, too - they were around 4, 6 and 8 at the time (maybe a year older or younger, I can't remember....well, wait...Katie is now 18 so that would be about right). So anyway - what a precious verse for her to "give" me! I now "claim" it as my "life verse" - although I'm not always the JOYFUL mother of children, I hope that overall it does characterize my life. I jotted a note in the margin of my Bible that day - with the date and "Kim [last name] prayer for me"

Okay, now back to March 2002 - I called the RE's clinic and scheduled our first IUI. In order to better help with the timing of the IUI and to increase the chances of success, they put me on 50mg of Clomid. After being through the hormone pit that is 250mg, this was a breeze! With this cycle, I got a trigger shot - the first one I'd ever had. I had to have the shot on a Wednesday night - between 6 and 6:30p.m. My friend, Jo, who was a nurse (she's now retired) told me she'd give me the shot because Brad said there was no way he could. Problem was, on a Wed night I'd have to meet her at the church because she worked in AWANA. I didn't want everyone on the planet to know what was going on, so I found another trusted friend (Becky - do you remember this, Becky???) to "stand guard" outside the bathroom door while Jo gave me a shot in the hip. On Friday morning, we had the IUI. I remember praying the entire time that God would help me trust in HIM as the giver of life, not trust in the medical procedure and that above all He would protect my heart from sinful disappointment if it didn't work. Then, I went about my life. Well, that IUI didn't work and I can honestly say, I wasn't horribly disappointed that it didn't. However, I continue researching adoption - and wondering how in the world people afforded it! Yikes!!!

Once again, in April I took 50mg of Clomid for timing and to increase success rates for the IUI. However, this time I had a LH surge before I was scheduled for a trigger shot. This moved up my IUI by two days - to April 11. Brad was coming in from out of town - he'd driven out to Arizona for a friend from church and was flying home the day we had to have the IUI!!! I picked him up at the airport and we went straight to the clinic. He was exhausted...great. I felt like that was one strike against us for this cycle. When we finally got called back to the room for the procedure, we were both wiped out. Cheryl, my nurse, was so sweet and upbeat. She hands me a test tube and says, "I need you to identify that this is, indeed, your husband's" Um...okay...how can I tell by looking at it????? She laughed, "Is that his NAME on the test tube?" Yep. Okay. In all my years of dealing with knowing when I was fertile, I knew a fertile cervix is *open*. Well, she had to use a tenaculum to get mine open. That. Hurt. And, in my mind, that was strike two. I remember telling Brad, "As soon as this is over, I'm going to Community Bakery and I'm buying myself a dozen cream cheese danishes!! This HURTS!"

After the IUI, I had to lay on the table for 10 minutes. While I was laying there, Cheryl was cleaning the other area of the room. I said, "Cheryl, I'll be out of town next month when we need to do this again, so we'll take off in May and I'll call you in June." She stopped, looked at me and said, "Now you wait just one minute! You may very well be calling me in two weeks telling me I got you pregnant!! Stop talking like that! Be positive that this is going to work!" I said, "I'm just trying to be realistic here." She said, "So am I. We're not having this conversation for at least two more weeks. You go to Community Bakery and get your cream cheese danish - but don't get a dozen! And just think, when you have this baby you'll be able to say, 'Do you know what all I went through to get you here?!'" Eh...we'll see, Cheryl, we'll see! When we left the clinic I was told, "If you haven't started by two weeks from today, do a pregnancy test and call us with the results." And so, the two week wait began....

Our Infertility Journey - part Four

This is part four of six posts on our Infertility Journey. To read all six posts, click here. Posts are in reverse chronological order, so you'll want to start reading at the bottom of that page. :)

In this entry, I talked about something "growing" inside me while a friend of mine was pregnant - and I didn't realize it.  As I look back, it started long before she told me she was pregnant again. But really, that's neither here nor there.  This is the time I realized it was there...

A few months after my surgery, I thought things were going well.  I was a few months post-op, Brad was still working for the insurance company and I was working part-time for my brother-in-law.  Things were going really well.  One day I was going about my daily routine, getting ready for work (I was actually in the middle of washing my hair) when I was suddenly struck with the conviction of a significant sin in my life.  Once again, two of my closest friends were pregnant and I realized I had been questioning and even accusing God of forgetting about me.  I wasn't even aware that I harbored these thoughts - but they were there, deep in my heart.  The questions like "What about me? Why haven't I had a baby and they've each had two now? Where is mine? Have You forgotten about me?" (see a theme in those questions? Me, me, me.).  I literally fell to my knees in tears - grieved that I had once again fallen into the trap of making pregnancy an idol of my heart and even more troublesome to me, that I had grieved the heart of God by questioning His very character.  What I found even more disturbing was the fact that if you'd come to me and said, "Can God forget you/me/anything" I would have very proudly answered you with all the "right" things.  Oh no! God is incapable of forgetting anything.  In the book of Jeremiah He tells us that He forgives our iniquity and our sin He will remember no more - meaning God makes a CHOICE to not remember. It isn't that He "forgives and forgets" - an all-knowing God CAN'T "forget".   So no - God cannot "forget" you.  Mmmm, really proud there, Gina.  You know God cannot forget, yet this is the VERY thing you're accusing Him of doing?!  Oh, when will I GET IT?!  I confessed that sin and asked God to continue to reveal to me when I was making pregnancy an idol of my heart so that I could continue to turn each cursed idol out that dared to rival Him.

Things went pretty well for the rest of that year.  But I still wasn't getting pregnant.  Dr. Moutos said we'd give it a year and that if I still wasn't pregnant by February 2002 then we'd talk about further options.  I felt certain that wouldn't be necessary.  I was secretly thrilled during the month of May, though, that we did a big church thing on Mother's Day that took the focus off the fact that it was Mother's Day.  Several former pastors returned to the church and that afternoon we had a big picnic out on the church's property where they officially broke ground on our new facility.  Phew, Mother's Day wasn't the "big focus" at church that year. (that's a whole 'nother blog post - I actually used to make Brad take me out of town so I wouldn't have to be at church on Mother's Day)

In November 2001, Brad called me at the office and dropped a bomb on me.  He was leaving his job with the insurance company in one week.  I was working part-time. He was carrying our insurance, he was making our house payment and my car payment (he had a car with his job and his truck was paid off), he was buying our groceries, we were trying to have a baby...I was sick.  But, on the other hand, because of his relationship with his manager, I was glad.  It had been a rough year or so.  I went to my brother-in-law and asked, "Can I go to work for you full-time starting next week - oh, and I need my insurance to start at the first of the month, too."  Thankfully, they were able to make all that happen.  I told Brad that we'd just stop trying to get pregnant.  We can't have a baby with him not working.  I remember saying, "God didn't call me to be [the name of a particular friend who had gotten pregnant while her husband was out of work]"  He was insistent that we not stop trying. He'd find work, "don't worry," he said.  And amazingly - and this was solely the work of God in my life - I didn't worry.

I honestly don't remember much about the time from November 2001 to February 2002.  I wasn't getting pregnant and Brad wasn't getting a job - but then the holidays aren't exactly the time to find work.  One morning in February, though, our phone rang and suddenly, Brad had a job.  It was part-time - but at least it was something!   I do remember in January 2002 I talked to the nurse at my RE's office and she said, "It's time to start thinking about getting a little more aggressive. If you're not pregnant in February, we need to start IUI."

Not what I wanted to hear.  Not at all.  So, while I researched IUI and got more and more despondent about the prospect of us ever being pregnant (success rates for IUI range from 5 to 40% - usually in the mid-20% range), I also started researching adoption and the costs of adoption, both domestic and international.  I quickly realized that would never be an option for us.  I knew I was going to have to trust God in this. I had no other choice - well, I did, but it was one that would drive me crazy.   And, of course, I didn't get pregnant in February. Time to call the clinic and make arrangements for March...

Infertility Journey - Part Three

This is part three of six posts on our Infertility Journey. To read all six posts, click here. Posts are in reverse chronological order, so you'll want to start reading at the bottom of that page. :) 

I found the written notes I'd made for this "series"!  I thought they were only on the now-dead laptop, but in cleaning out my church bag, I found 7 pages of scribbled notes - and phew, did I scribble!  There are sentences written in teeny spaces (because I wrote from edge to edge, so there were no margins in which to write).  Now I can pick up where I left off.

After receiving the recommendation to move to injectibles (basically, Perganol) or have surgery, I started doing research and praying.  I'd met a girl via an online Hallmark message board who had the same issue I had and she'd recently had a baby after having the same surgery my RE was recommending.  I talked with Lezlee several times - we had many email and phone conversations.  She was always very open and honest about her experience.  She also cautioned me about the possible side effects because she was experiencing the most significant one - within a few months of having her son, she was in full-blown menopause from the destruction of too much ovarian tissue.  Brad and I talked for a long time about the options we were facing.  I was concerned about the injectibles - not so much the cost as the side effects (the McCaughey septuplets were just a few years old and still occasionally in the news at the time).  We met with our RE again so I could ask him some questions about what we'd do in case of hyper-stimulation.  He responded "We would abort the cycle." (don't see abort here and panic, okay? :))  What they do with injectibles is perform an ultrasound every day to see how the follicles are progressing. Once they measure correctly, a shot is given to encourage the follicles to release their eggs (called a trigger shot).  If there are too many follicles present, then they would not give the trigger shot - which aborts (ends) the cycle.  I said, "Okay, you're telling me I'll spend $1,000 for shots; deal with the pain of the shots; come in every day for an ultrasound (and the charge for that) - and then you might not give me a trigger shot?  Um, no. There's no way I'm doing that!"  I didn't think that was being a wise steward of our money.  Brad had already told me he didn't want me to have surgery - so we decided to think, pray and wait a little while longer to make a final decision.

I started researching ovarian drilling more and more after our conversation with Dr. Moutos (who wasn't at this particular clinic by the way - he was still at UAMS then).  The more I researched and the more I talked with Lezlee, the more I became convinced that I needed to appeal to Brad to reconsider.  The ovulation results were incredible and so were the pregnancy rates. Brad's concern was my response to anesthesia but was willing to reconsider if I could arrange for a friend of ours to be my anesthesiologist.  Since my aunt makes that schedule, I knew that wouldn't be a problem!

So, we saw my RE again in early February 2001 - ready to commit to the surgery.  He did some more blood work and told me when during my cycle we'd need to schedule the procedure.  He also very sweetly reminded me that the goal of the surgery was ovulation - not pregnancy.  Fair enough, and duly noted.  We scheduled the surgery for later that month.

The procedure went well, recovery from anesthesia was a whole 'nother story.  I shut down two post-anesthesia recovery units and ended up in the main recovery room before finally waking up, keeping ice down and being allowed to go home.

Ten days post-op, we knew the procedure was successful.  For the first time since my purchase of a Fertility Monitor three years before, I actually saw "peak".  I'd never seen that before. I was so excited, I was squealing!  Pregnancy couldn't be too far away!  I was actually ovulating - I'd never done that before and certainly never on my own!  Despite Dr. Moutos' reminder "ovulation is the goal, not pregnancy" - pregnancy was still my goal.  And as far as I was concerned, we were all but there. The one thing we'd always needed to happen and had been missing was now happening.  Bring on the maternity clothes.  Or so I thought.

Our Infertility Journey - part 2

This is part two of six posts on our Infertility Journey. To read all six posts, click here. Posts are in reverse chronological order, so you'll want to start reading at the bottom of that page. :) 

As I recounted the counsel I'd received from Todd with my sweet friend, Jo, she shared a passage of Scripture with me that she found comforting during a different stage of her life. It was Habakkuk 3:17-19. Many are familiar with v 19, like I was, but are not familiar with vv 17-18 - which are the verses that really make 19 stand out. Here are the verses from NASB, which is the version I've memorized:

Though the fig tree should not blossom
And there be no fruit on the vines,
Though the yield of the olive should fail
And the fields produce no food,
Though the flock should be cut off from the fold
And there be no cattle in the stalls,

Yet I will exult in the LORD,
I will rejoice in the God of my salvation.
The Lord GOD is my strength,
And He has made my feet like hinds' feet,
And makes me walk on my high places.
For the choir director, on my stringed instruments.

Everything in verse 17 is empty, fruitless, barren. Everything in v17 was me. And in v18, Habakkuk exerts his will. He makes a choice. Despite everything that is true in v17, he chooses to exult in the Lord, to rejoice in the God of his salvation. And then, he finds v19 to be true - that God is his strength, makes him able to agilely traverse the "rocky terrain" of his trials. Just like everything in v17 was me, I needed to make the same choice as Habakkuk - to exult and rejoice in the Lord - to keep my focus on Him -- and He would be faithful to give me the strength I needed for the trial I was facing.

It was one of those "light bulb moments" for me - life changing in a matters-of-the-heart kind of way. But, with that said, it didn't totally wipe away my struggle. I am still a sinner - saved by grace, yes, but still a sinner.

Things were okay for the next year and a half. I would still struggle but not as visibly to others as it had been in the past. Then I was late. As in "Honey, I'm late." Pregnancy test after pregnancy test kept coming up negative. A week later, we knew I wasn't pregnant but due to some other things going on and some blood test results, my reproductive endocrinologist felt pretty certain I'd had a chemical pregnancy. He decided to put me on 250mg of Clomid that cycle. I don't know if any of you have ever been hyped up on that much hormone, but I'm here to tell you - 250mg of Clomid is the mole in the armpit of "hormone hell." The side effects were through the roof - vision disturbances, headaches, hot flashes, and oh...the mood swings! To top it off, a friend emailed me a picture...an ultrasound announcing another pregnancy (she already had one baby that I didn't think she needed - yeah, I'd put myself in God's place and was ruling the universe). Oh. Great. The next day I went to an ice skating show with some friends one of whom grabbed me and said, "Do you think 8 weeks is too early to tell your friends that you're pregnant?" My first thought was "It is if you're telling me and I've just been told I was most likely pregnant a week ago" -- see...still a sinner. :) My second thought was "I have to spend all afternoon with her now?" (see???) And I have to tell ya, I'm not sure I was ever really happy for her. That day started the seed of something that grew in me and was ugly - I just didn't realize it yet.

So, here I am in the midst of the big hormone hype-up, I'm in choir still, I'm still trying to keep it together. I'm still praying like crazy that God would either take away the desire for children or give me one so I'd shut up already. ;) The day after the ice skating thing was a Sunday. The choir sang the hymn "It Is Well" in a wonderful arrangement (I wish I could tell you who it is by, but I don't remember). We'd hammered on this thing in rehearsal for months because it wasn't exactly an easy arrangement, especially since verse three required us going a capella (that's without accompaniment for the uninitiated). When the choir got to this verse, I fell apart. And I mean "fell apart" in that crying-so-hard-I can't-stand-up kind of way. My friend, Jo (the one mentioned above) literally had to hold me up. Ugh! I was so ready to be done with this! I'm in the choir loft, for Pete's sake, can I please not do this now? And not do it in front of the entire church?! I was close enough to a few people to ask them if they saw me lose it. They said they didn't, no one called or sent me a note (thankfully) so I'll assume no one saw it.

Well, 250mg of Clomid for eight days plus 10 days of dexamethasone (a steroid) didn't work. Pretty sad when you're hyped up on that much hormone and it doesn't work. It's also pretty disheartening. It was at this point that our RE recommended injectibles or surgery. Whoa...we suddenly have a lot to think about and pray about. And I'll talk about it later.

Our Infertility Journey - part 1

This is part one of six posts on our Infertility Journey. To read all six posts, click here. Posts are in reverse chronological order, so you'll want to start reading at the bottom of that page. :)

I know that many of you who read the blog - and well, anyone who reads my profile blurb over there in the sidebar - are aware that Brad and I dealt with infertility for long time before we were blessed with children. Throughout those years, I often asked God what I was supposed to be learning through the trial. I can't tell you that I ever got a specific answer or gained a particular insight - because I learned multiple things about the Lord and about myself during that time. Once we conceived Elizabeth, my prayer as my pregnancy continued and I became a mother, was that God would allow me to remember my trial of infertility. I prayed that I would remember my pain, my struggles and the areas where I was tempted most to sin. I prayed that I would remember the things that comforted me and the things that drew me back to God when I failed - so that I would be able to comfort others with the comfort which I was comforted (2 Cor 1:4). Recently, I've had the opportunity to encourage several believers who are struggling with infertility. God has been faithful to answer my prayer and has given me the opportunity to pray for these ladies as so many prayed for me.

So. What were the things that comforted me as I struggled with IF? The vast majority of it came to me via counseling with one of our pastors in June 1999. There were, at one point that year, 35 pregnant women in our church. Yes, you read that correctly, thirty-five. And I know because I counted. I hated going to church - oh, I hated it. All those pregnant women complaining about being pregnant...I'd have traded places with them in a heartbeat. I began to completely withdraw - dropping out of everything I could. Brad was meeting with our Worship Pastor once a week during that time. Todd called him one day and said, "When you come to our meeting on Thursday, bring Gina with you." I had no idea why he wanted me there, but I went. I don't remember a lot about what was said that day, but I do remember these few things...

Todd started talking to me about how he noticed I was withdrawing - and in a way that was totally unlike me. I remember him asking "Are you unhappy with the church?" (several of our close friends had recently left the church) And then it was like a light bulb went on in his head. I could see it dawn on him as I watched his face. "It's the baby thing, isn't it?" (and he didn't say "baby thing" in a way that was insulting). I remember looking down at the fringe on a rug on his floor and I had two thoughts almost simultaneously: (1) I wonder if I can crawl under this rug and (2) I'm so glad I don't have to pretend any more. Finally someone called me on this. That second thought? Totally the grace of God preparing my heart for what was to come. I looked up at Todd and said, "Yes, it's the baby thing. I absolutely cannot stand being around all these pregnant women. I hate it!" He and his wife were literally days away from the birth of their 3rd child and he said, "My wife is one of those pregnant women. Is she included in that?" I wasn't going to lie and I simply answered, "Yes." I could tell it stung him for me to say that; but rather than be offended, he opened God's Word and gave me precious counsel. You'll look at this and say, "That's all you got out of that session?" And I'd have to tell you - these are the two things that have stuck with me, 10 years later. These were the things I clung to, the things I reminded myself over and over and over - because these were the areas where I really struggled.

First we talked about how the book of James teaches that every good and every perfect gift comes from God (James 1:17). I remember Todd saying, "If you aren't pregnant right now, then it's not good for you." Before that day, I hated hearing that. I was tired of being infertile being "good" for me. I was tired of hearing "God's timing is perfect!" from people who had kids. I was done! But that day, it made sense. Stop fighting God and start learning what I needed to learn - and most importantly, to seek His glory in this.

We also talked about how I was struggling to trust in God's timing for Brad and me regarding children. For this, Todd turned to Hebrews 11:6 where we're told that without faith it is impossible to please God. I truly desired to please God through this - whether we ever had children or not. But at that moment in time, a positive pregnancy test was the idol of my heart and I needed to put that off and put on faith.

We spent quite a bit more time that day with Todd encouraging me to trust in God's timing, to build my faith muscles and to get myself re-engaged because withdrawing was prideful. I remember him asking, "Why are you not in our Sunday School class?" Because I was teaching 3-year-olds...and there's no such thing as a pregnant 3-year-old. It's easier to be in there. {bzzzzzzzzzzzzz!} Wrong answer! My husband told me that he would prefer I be in Sunday School with him. Todd said, "Call Jeff and resign. Avoiding pregnant women is not a good reason to teach three-year-olds and besides, your husband wants you in class with him." Can I give him a few weeks notice? Brad said that was fine with him. So, I turned in my "two-week notice" for teaching that children's class and in the process had to tell Jeff, "I'm teaching these children to avoid the pregnant women - and that's not right. {eeek! That was hard to do!!! But I knew it was the right thing to do} Plus, Brad wants me in Sunday School with him again." I re-engaged in choir - right when we were preparing to sing "Do Not I Love Thee, O My Lord" words by Philip Doddridge and music by Craig Curry. A perfect anthem for my heart during these days. I could barely get through it - and even now - "turn each cursed idol out that dares to rival Thee...".

Do not I love Thee, O my Lord?
Behold my heart and see;
And turn each cursèd idol out,
That dares to rival Thee.

Do not I love Thee, O my Lord?
Then let me nothing love;
Dead be my heart to every joy,
When Jesus cannot move.

Within the darkness of this heart,
Other gods would vie for my affections.
But Thou art exalted far above all gods.
Let nothing keep me from Thy love.

Thou know’st I love Thee, dearest Lord,
But O, I long to soar
Far from the sphere of mortal joys,
And learn to love Thee more!

And so, that's part one. We'll continue the story later.