This July Richard and I will have been married ten
years. This August will mark nine years
since we started trying to have a baby.
I never imagined this is where I would be nine years later…childless. We
tried on our own at first. After about
six months, our OBGYN put me on Clomid.
I had very little response, so he did a sperm test on Richard. He finally told me that he was referring us
to a specialist in Birmingham. Several
tests later, we were ready for our first cycle. My response was not great, and
the day of the IUI they discovered that something had drastically impacted
Richard’s sperm count in a very short amount of time. The doctor said that my chances didn’t look
good, but sometimes miracles happen, so she went ahead with the IUI. Of course, it didn’t work.
Richard went to see a doctor who discovered that he had a
varicose vein and had to have surgery…a varicocelectomy. He went to specialists, and we waited. The stress was so much on me that I said that
we should just take a break, so we took a break for five years. Knowing that we were going to have to spend
lots of money on something that wasn’t definite was hard for me to wrap my
brain around. I took time to study God’s
word and read and memorize every piece of scripture that I could find that
pertained to our situation. I started a
Bible study/support group at church called Hannah’s Hope. I wanted to reach out to other women who were
going through the same thing. I met some
great women, increased my faith, and drew closer to God. It also gave me time
to get my mind off everything. God could
make me pregnant without medicine. He’s
the great physician, so we stopped seeing doctors and tried on our own for five
years, but it didn’t work. I knew we
needed to go back to the doctor, but I couldn’t bring myself to face it. Finally, a dear friend gave us $500 and told
us to make an appointment, so we did.
We started that first summer and did two IUI’s. It was all we could do because I just
couldn’t miss work. We kept toying
around with my meds, but neither response was ideal, and the IUI’s didn’t
work. Nine months later, we decided to
try two more IUI’s. We tried different
meds, but my response wasn’t ideal.
Neither IUI worked. It was at
that point that we decided that I would have to continue throughout the
year. We had to be more aggressive. I had recently turned thirty-six, and time
wasn’t on my side. The doctor and I
decided that he should do exploratory surgery to make sure there wasn’t
anything going on internally. I had my
surgery in October. There were no
problems. I had a couple of polyps and
such a mild case of endometriosis that it was barely stage I. He lasered out what he found and cleaned me
up. He said that there was nothing going
on internally that would keep me from conceiving.
I was ready for my first treatment in November. When I went in for my ultrasound, the nurse
found a 4 cm cyst. I had to take birth
control pills for a month. I went in at
the beginning of January for my next treatment.
A sweet friend had sold me two boxes of Gonil F that she had leftover
from her treatments. It just felt like a
God thing, medicine was placed in my lap.
However, it didn’t work. Since
the beginning of our journey, I’ve tried to keep a positive outlook on things,
keeping the faith, but for some reason, I felt very depressed after that failed
IUI. I didn’t understand, and I felt so
certain it would work, yet I had the worse response I’ve ever had. I’m
resilient, so I bounced back after a couple of weeks, ready to go through it
all over again.
Then the greatest miracle of all happened. A very dear friend from Dothan gave me all of
her leftover meds from her previous cycles.
She gave me thousands of dollars worth of meds. What a God thing! I was so excited. God had truly blessed us. I went in for my ultrasound to get ready for
my next cycle (it was on my birthday), and I had another cyst, almost as large
as the last one. I had to wait
again. This time I decided to stay on
the birth control for a couple of extra weeks so I could visit with my family
during Spring Break. After Spring Break, I went in for my ultrasound. I still had a cyst, but it was too small to
be concerned about. I was ready for my
cycle. I just knew that this would be
the one. God had sent that medicine to
me through a sweet friend. I had the
best response I’ve ever had. It was a
God thing. I just knew that this was the time I would finally get pregnant. It was a done deal.
After nine years and approximately 108 failed pregnancy attempts,
you’d think that I would be used to it.
It’s hard to tell if you are pregnant while being on all these
meds. The progesterone pills you take
mimic pregnancy symptoms/period symptoms, the typical stuff like cramping,
bloating, sore boobs. So, on Thursday,
April 24th, I knew something was wrong when I woke up that day and
all symptoms were gone and zits covered my face. Then I began spotting like I do every single
time. It was at that moment that I knew
I wasn’t pregnant, just like all the other times. That night, I lay in bed
crying. I didn’t want Richard to know,
so I hid it from him. He kept asking me
why my nose was stopped up, but he had no clue that I was crying and hurting
and angry.
Depression is not what I felt this time. I was angry at God. I felt let down. Why? Why did you let me get my hopes up? Why did you send medicine to me only for it
not to work? Why did you let me have my
best results ever only to find out that I’m not pregnant? Why does your word say that with faith the
size of a mustard seed, you can move mountains?
I have faith, at least mustard-size faith. Why does your word say that nothing is
impossible with God, yet this seems to be an impossible feat? Why did you say you would give me the desires
of my heart? Why? WHY? WHY!!!!!! Do you
hear my prayers? Do you hear the people
praying for me? Do you even care?
I know those sound like horribly selfish things to say, but
I am human. Even though I know God hears
my prayers and cares, I was hurting…am hurting.
I was ready to quit and throw in the towel. Richard and I sat and talked about what to
do. The money is running out. The stress and frustration are
unbearable. Maybe we should just
quit.
As I scanned through Twitter and Facebook, it seemed that
every post I saw was aimed at me: “Just
because you can’t see it yet, doesn’t mean it’s not on its way.” “Get your fire back. It’s not over until God says it’s over. Start believing again. Start dreaming again. Start pursuing what God put in your heart.” Okay, God, I get your point. It’s not time for me to give up. Every single time I think it’s time to quit,
something tells me not to.
I’m not angry at God anymore, but I still don’t
understand. But, in the wise words of
Steven Curtis Chapman, “God is God and I am not.” I don’t always get his
plan. I don’t understand why he has
allowed us to go through this. All I
know is that I have to keep on going and trusting him. There has to be some reason for all of this,
and one day soon I will know that reason.
Sometimes I get depressed, sometimes I get angry with God, sometimes I
question God, sometimes I feel like I’m losing my faith in God; but don’t
worry. There is nothing wrong with my
relationship with Christ. I am human,
but in my heart of hearts, I hear the voice of reason (the Holy Spirit), and I
snap out of my funk.
It is no secret that my insurance is maxed out, no more drug
coverage. I can do one more IUI, and
then insurance won’t cover those anymore.
They only cover eight of them.
Richard and I can afford to do about three more treatments and that is
it. After that, I don’t know what we
will do. Maybe we can find some money or
maybe we’ll have to take out a loan and try to adopt, if that’s even an
option. I don’t know if you can get a
loan for that. I don’t know
anymore. Right now I’m stressed about
the storm damage to my house and figuring out how to pay the deductible and
worried about what insurance will or will not pay for. Trying to figure out how to pay for that and
how to pay for fertility treatments at the same time is a nightmare.
Here I go again. I’ll
spend the month of May on birth control, trying to shrink that stupid cyst that
won’t go away. I’ll repeat my yearly
tests, the ones that test me for every disease known to man. Then I’ll meet with the doctor and proceed
with the next plan, which will probably include outrageously expensive
meds. It’s just another waiting game.
There comes a point when you’ve said all that you can say to
God. There is nothing left. I’ve prayed every prayer. I’ve walked in faith. I’ve begged and pleaded. He knows.
Just pray for us. There has to be
something good just around the corner.
There just has to be.
