I always sit down at the computer and write a blog when I
have significant news to share from a doctor’s appointment. It may be hard for others to understand why I
write such personal things in these blogs and share them with everyone. I think it’s because it’s a type of catharsis
for me. I can get all of my emotions out
and off my chest. It’s a coping
mechanism in some ways. So, here I am at approximately 6:30 staring at my computer
with a red face full of tears because the doctor’s office called me at 4:53 to
say that I am not pregnant…again. I went
in at 9:00 this morning for my blood work, but because of the wreck on the
interstate, it took all day to get my results.
I had such high hopes this time. So many people were praying for us. I just knew it was perfect timing, but I was
wrong.
Sometimes I feel like I have a scarlet I tattooed on my
chest. You may not see it, but it’s there. I’m the infertile girl, the one who is
constantly trying to convince herself that she isn’t broken. Some people avoid
conversations with me. Some people look
at me with pity in their eyes. Some
people try to avoid that topic and pretend like it doesn’t exist. Some people want to talk about it each time
they see me, in grocery store lines and at the mall, random places.
These days I feel like I have no identity. There are lots of women who have chosen not
to have children and others who never married and had to let that dream fade
away. I am not trying to belittle them
in any way. But, I have no
identity. Children give you
purpose. You become mother and
friend. You become the ballpark mom who
hangs out with the other ballpark moms.
All of your friends have children, and your children hang out with each
other. You belong to this close knit
circle of friends, the mom club. It’s
such a big deal to people. The minute
you get married people begin asking you when you are going to have children,
and it never ends. All your friends get
married and begin having children, but you don’t. Like I’ve said before, we just don’t fit
in. There is no social circle for us. I don’t want to be childless. I don’t want it to just be me and Richard.
For some women, living a childless life is a choice they’ve
made, but I can’t do that. I’ve had two
dreams my whole life. At the age of
fifteen I felt like my calling was to become a singer, a contemporary Christian
artist. I dreamed for years of being a singer, but now I’m too old. I realize that dream is beginning to fade
away, and I’ve had to let go of that.
And just like many other girls, I began dreaming at a very young age of
being a mother some day. That was all I ever wanted. I dreamed of falling in love and marrying and
having precious children. That was one
reason why I didn’t pursue my master’s and doctorate in music. I didn’t want to move away and be in school
forever. I wanted to get married and
start a family. I will not, I can not
let this dream fade away as well.
Last week, around the 6th day after the IUI, I
started spotting. It happens every
single time. I was devastated. I just knew I wasn’t pregnant. I cried all night. I couldn’t sleep, and I stayed up most of the
night talking to God. The next day I
went over to a friend’s house to swim. I
normally don’t talk to anyone about what’s going on until after my pregnancy
test, but for some reason I started talking to my friend about how I didn’t
think I was pregnant. We had a long talk
that day. I was feeling discouraged and
wondering if it was time to throw in the towel.
I talked about how many times we have tried and how many years we’ve
been doing this. My friend told me that
she didn’t think it was time for me to give up, and we talked about some of the
options. That night, I lay in bed
thinking about our options and what we should do. The next morning, I woke up to a text from another
friend. Now, keep in mind that I haven’t
discussed any of my frustrations with her.
I haven’t talked to her in a month, but out of the blue she sent me this
text:
“So
I went to a worship concert with Kari Jobe and Christine Cane,
and it was just heaven and spirit filled.
Well, they talked about
how Joshua walked around the walls with these
people for 6 days.
They never saw progress. They
never saw a brick fall. They never
saw a crack come in them, but yet they NEVER gave up. They didn’t
quit. They didn’t stop at lap 1
or 4 or 5 or even 6. But then day 7
comes,
and with all their trust, with all their faith, with all their strength,
they
went around again like the Lord said, and then it happened. They fell.
The promise was there. They
gained the land that the Lord had promised
them. And I just felt the Lord
telling me to say to you that you can not
give up. You may not see
progress. You may not even see a hint of
light
in your situation, but the Lord is bigger, stronger, faithful in all
things, so
don’t give up. You never know when that last lap is. You’re so close.
Also, Christine got a word from the Lord about women who can’t have
babies, and she prayed for the promise to come. This was after the Lord
had already put you on my heart.
So she made them stand and she
prayed over them. I stood in your
place. Hold on to hope. It’s coming.”
What do you think about that? Did it give you chills? It gave me chills. I woke up that Friday morning and picked my
phone up like I do every morning and that text was on it. She had no idea what I had been dealing with,
no idea what I was contemplating, no idea I was considering giving up, and she
wrote that. I don’t know about you, but
I believe God is trying to tell me something.
No, I am not pregnant.
I’ve had to come to terms with that.
Yes, I have done eight IUI’s over a seven-year period, and they have all
failed. Yes, I am getting older and am
running out of money and time, but I still don’t think God is ready for me to throw in
the towel. I’m not going to lie to you
and say that after reading that text I just started smiling and being happy for
the rest of the week. I have wrestled
with frustration and questioned God. I
have cried. I have held on to hope that
maybe I was pregnant. It’s because we
are about to deal with the greatest burden we’ve had to deal with.
We meet with the doctor on August 12th. Richard and I have decided that we want to
try one more IUI. It will be very costly
since we have no medicines left. We are
looking at around $5,000 for that treatment, but that is still a little more
manageable than the alternatives. This
will be the last IUI we do. If it
doesn’t work, we will do IVF. I have no
idea how we will afford it. On average,
it costs between $15,000-$20,000 for one cycle.
For some people it is a little cheaper, but my insurance is maxed out on
meds, and we will have to pay for those on our own. Most people I know have had to do at least
three cycles. There is no way we can do
that unless a miracle happens, so Richard and I have decided to do the IUI and
then take out a loan for IVF. If IVF
doesn’t work, we will pay that loan off and then adopt. Adoption on an infant in the states through
an adoption agency is $25,000. Of
course, all of this is contingent upon what our doctor says, but he told me in
our last meeting that we could do another IUI. As you can imagine, we feel like
we have the weight of the world on our shoulders. Trying to figure out how to pay for all of
this is very stressful, but if God doesn’t want me to give up, then he will
make a way when there seems to be no way.
This is not the road I wanted to take, but God has a different
plan.
As always, we need prayers.
If you have fundraising ideas, send them our way, or if you just feel
like getting rid of any excess cash you have, we’ll be glad to take it off your
hands. We are trusting God and expecting
a miracle, but everyday is a trial. And, learning to trust God completely is no easy task. Fear and anxiety creep in from time to time. Thanks again for your love and support. We appreciate it.
