Infertility (not-so) Anonymous

I cried over some sippys. And by cried, I mean ugly-face bawled. Toddler B’s dentist said it was time to switch sippys. No more spouts, it’s time to move onto the big-boy trainer cups. In the dentist office, I was as cool as a cucumber. In real time, as I took the sippys off the shelf to pack them away it hit me that we may never come this way again… like ever. That realization was crippling to my soul.

I haven’t written about our struggle with infertility in about 8 months and the well-meaning yet insensitive, “Soooo, when are you having Baby #2?!” questions keep coming. For us, infertility isn’t an anonymous or taboo topic. It’s a topic that Hubbz and I are so open and honest about. It’s a topic that we must talk about. Too many people are struggling in silence and alone. We share our journey because infertility shouldn’t have to be lived in painful anonymity. What follows in this judgement-free place are bits of our story…

Rewind the calendar to May 31st…

It was one of those moments that you keep it together until you get off the phone and then crumple into a heap on your bedroom floor. You sob into a pillow so your son doesn’t ask why Mommy is crying and your sweet Hubbz doesn’t have to know yet that your body failed him… again. My body shook as I sobbed. My heart broke wide-open and my mind raged with anger. It felt like part of my heart was literally breaking in my chest. I had so many questions for God. I had so much sadness. In that moment of heartbreak I felt the feeling of total despair. I took the blood test early that morning and we had been waiting all day for the phone call. The phone call that would tell us I was indeed so very pregnant. The fertility cycle in May was incredible- every step in the process being successful. The doctor maxed out my medication doses and I did every injection on myself like a boss. We saw the cute little egg follicles that would eventually become our next baby(ies). We prayed, I did acupuncture, I took care of my body, I meditated. I literally did everything I was supposed to do to make this work…
and it failed.

May marked month 18 of trying to conceive baby #2. Month 18 of paying attention to cycles, peeing on sticks and tracking ovulation dates. Month 18 of ultrasounds, pills and aggressive injections. Month 18 of terrifying procedures where they put you in stirrups and fill your uterus with a solution that produces “mild cramping” (side note… they lie. The cramping is 700% never mild, I digress). May was supposed to be our month. We were ready mentally and physically. Everything pointed to success. Hubbz and I decided going into this fertility cycle that it would be the last cycle that we would rely on modern medicine and science to help us conceive- which was fine because it was going to work. We were both seeking a sense of normal and peace- and fertility cycles don’t offer much of either. Hubbz’s Mama very unexpectedly left our world to go meet Jesus on May 1st. The timing of the cycle felt right to us both. We were hopeful in the middle of a devastating loss, God would come through like he said, because how could He not?

We decided to do our 3rd and final IUI and had SO. MUCH. HOPE. (For those of you who don’t know what an IUI is, it’s an intrauterine insemination… think turkey baster not petri dish. The sperm are delivered right to the uterus where they can meet the cutest little egg and hug and create a human… #yeayscience.) Mother’s Day landed in the middle of the month and was bittersweet. We were mourning the sudden loss of Hubbz’s Mama, yet celebrating our son that made me a Mommy, and felt the hope of the fertility cycle we were in the middle of. My birthday capped off the month and it was amazing. We were feeling so cautiously optimistic and I was feeling so pregnant! This was the month our dream of expanding our little family of three would come true. We both truly felt it and our support system of people turned prayer warriors did too.

“Wait I am sorry, I am so very sorry. I think maybe you have the incorrect chart pulled up are you sure that’s mine?” The nurse confirmed my name and birthdate. My heart sank. “I apologize, what are the levels again?” I asked hoping I could decipher a way that the numbers confirmed a pregnancy. The nurse repeated the levels. My heart sank deeper and a lump formed in my throat. I wasn’t sure if I was going to dry heave or sob. I hung up the phone and remember standing there in my bedroom not feeling anything… and then feeling everything. Every pill, every doctors appointment, every injection, every invasive test, every ultrasound, every thought, every prayer. Every second I tirelessly devoted to the past 18 months. I felt it all in that moment, and I crumpled into a sobbing heap on the bedroom floor.

May began with a devastating loss and ended with what felt like a sucker-punch.

Fast-forward back to the sippys…

In the storage room, I put the top on the plastic bin that holds my breast pump, our son’s old bottles and now the spouted sippys. I look around at bins of clothing our sweet little guy has grown out of. Toys that he once played with but has gotten too mature for. I take a deep breath that feels labored. I am so completely grateful for our sweet boy that brings us so much joy, while my heart aches so deeply and yearns for another child. I have so many questions in my heart as to why this is happening but somewhere mixed in with all the questions, there is a peace knowing God has a plan and a purpose for it all. I guess maybe that’s part of what makes him God And not me. It’s His plan. I close my eyes for a moment and hear Building 429’s lyrics in my head.

We will trust in you.
We will not be moved.
We will trust in you.
And we won’t be shaken.

Feeling such intense sadness and a mixture of hope as we pray for Baby #2, while feeling so much gratitude for our incredible son. Feeling joy in hearing friends announce their pregnancies while my heart is breaking and yearning for another of our own. It is a dichotomy of feelings I wish I never, ever had to feel. And yet here we are, feeling all those feels. Isn’t that so much of life sometimes? There is a reason behind it that right now, reason doesn’t understand.

We will trust in you.
Those who know your name trust in you, for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you. Psalm 9:10

We will not be moved.
Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong. 1 Corinthians 16:13

We will trust in you.
When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. Psalm 56:3

And we won’t be shaken.
I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Psalm 16:8

Friends, if you are the praying type, we ask that you pray for us and our journey. Storm Heaven’s gates in prayer on our behalf. If you are the good vibes and fertile energy type, we ask that you send us all the love and light. Hubbz and I have closed the chapter of fertility doctors and medicines. It was so very hard to accept, but it was time. Full disclosure? Some moments I still look back and think maybe just one more cycle but the reality is, I will always push for one more cycle. We close the chapter and step into total surrender to the God we serve. Is it weird that it makes me feel like I might puke because it’s that scary? One thing I know is that God is bigger than the medicine and the injections and the cycles. If He wants us to have another child, we choose to believe He will make it happen for us regardless of circumstance- after all, none of our doctors can find a reason for the infertility. (Which is both comforting and maddening- another dichotomy of feelings.)

In the end, I don’t know how this life is going to end up. I am unsure if our Toddler B is going to get a sibling, but here’s what I do know, there is a God we serve that is good. He sees far greater than we as humans ever could. Maybe you’re struggling with infertility or maybe you aren’t. Maybe your tear-stained spouted sippys come in a different form. Regardless of the struggle and heartache, sweet friends, please know that God is good.

All the time.
Through it all.
He is good.

I don’t understand it right now, but I know He has his hand on this situation for us, and I promise you, as sure as the air I am breathing, He has you too. Wherever you are, whatever you are going through- He’s got it. While our burdens seem crushing to us, there is nothing too big for Him.

Though we don’t always see it on each others social media highlight reels, sometimes the struggle is real. I have a bin of tear-stained spouted sippys to prove it.