I have struggled with posting about this for a really long time but when I found out that this past week was Infertility Awareness Week, I knew that it was time, it just felt like a sign to share our story.
When Bobby and I decided it was time to add to our family 4 years ago, we thought “We’re ready now, so let’s get pregnant!” It wasn’t long after that conversation that we found out there was a little baby girl growing in my belly. It happened quick. It happened easily. So we thought that’s just how it goes. Fast forward two years and right after Emerson’s first birthday we had the same conversation, “We’re ready to add another one, so let’s get pregnant!” We just assumed that because it was so easy the first time around that it would be the same this time. It wasn’t.
For nearly 3 years we have been fighting the fight of infertility and it totally effing sucks. Before I started this fight I had no idea that something that seemed so easy could be so difficult. I have known lots of people who have had to go down this road and before I myself was walking it, I couldn’t even imagine what it meant.
I’ve posted before about how awful Em’s birth was. I had an emergency c-section with complications. I vomited violently (think exorcist) the entire time they were getting her out and ultimately scaring the absolute shit out of my husband. Then due to an excessive amount of blood loss, I required two, TWO blood transfusions (which was disgusting – think Twilight) and then spiked a fever so I wasn’t able to hold my child for almost two hours. I was miserable, I was hooked to a million machines, couldn’t shower (it wasn’t pretty) and was too dizzy to walk, from the massive amounts of pain medications I was on. The first 3 days Bobby single handled took care of her. We got home and I was in a TON of pain. The pain only got worse each day and it hurt to even pick up Emmie. I kept thinking maybe I was being a baby, so I tried to suck it up, but after two days I noticed my stomach was turning blue and red all the way up to my chest. It was hot to touch and looked pretty effing gross. I made an appointment to see my OB and the minute they looked at it they said I needed emergency surgery. I had gotten a Hematoma where my c-section was and was sent back to the hospital for THREE days away from my newborn child. I almost didn’t go. The pain of the hematoma was nothing compared to the pain of having to leave her. We made it through that ordeal and told ourselves that the next baby would be sooooo much easier. HAH!
For a year I kept telling my doctor that I thought my c-section complications might have impacted why we weren’t getting pregnant after a year of trying. No one listened. They put me on every effing hormone there was and of course they didn’t work, it was a waste of 8 more months. All it did was turn me into a raging asshole and help me to pack on some extra pounds. A year and eight months of watching people announce pregnancy after pregnancy. Watching beautiful babies be born. I tried really hard not to get bitter but it didn’t work. I was angry at everyone and Facebook became my enemy. People would harmlessly comment on my pictures and say “Emmie needs a sibling” unaware of the situation and my broken heart – and uterus. 😦
I finally demanded that they check and see if there was anything blocking and after a small in office surgery they saw that I did indeed have lots of scar tissue blocking my Fallopian tubes. Who’d of thunk? I had to have a another surgery to clear the scar tissue and after trying for another 7 months we decided we were done and needed to take another approach. Bobby was mostly done with my raging mood swings and I was losing my shit and turning into a bitter woman. I didn’t like the person I had become, jealous of every pregnancy announcement or baby photo. I kept asking “Why not me? Why is my body doing this to me? Why did they have to botch my body?” For the first time in my life I had lost hope. I was questioning God and his power. It was a dark time for me and I knew I needed out. So last week I had my first IVF transfer. I am terrified and excited at the same time. We have to wait two weeks to find out if I am indeed pregnant and after 4 days I already want to rip my hair out. Whatever the outcome I have promised myself to stay positive. It has taken a long time to get to this point and I know my heart will be broken if this doesn’t work but I also know that if we are meant to bring another child into this world, we will.
So there it is, my infertility story. I know so many people have one and feel like they can’t share it out of shame. Which is insane. I have been open with my struggle. My friends and family have been right along side me helping me through it all I am so thankful for all of them. I knew I didn’t want to be afraid to talk about it openly anymore because going through IVF or infertility shouldn’t be embarrassing. It should be worn as a badge of courage. It is hard as shit. You have to give yourself a ton of shots (stomach and ass), your body is taken over by hormones and hot flashes (oh God, the hot flashes) which totally suck. Then if you’re realllly lucky you’ll start gaining a shit ton of weight (13 pounds and counting). It’s an emotional roller coaster and the whole time you are telling yourself it will be worth it. But you are also cursing the sky that you have to go through it.
Now that’s its done and we are playing the waiting game, I just keep telling myself getting pregnant quickly gave me a terrible birthing experience. So having a hard conception can only mean that this birth cannot and will not be a total shitshow.
A girl can dream can’t she?
Crown & Ginger 