Confession Time

So here's where I need your support.  Here is were I tell you my woes and no matter how non-sensical they are, like the wonderful people you are, you come to my aid and say:  It's okay Lora, it will be alright.

For some time now my good friend and past roommate Brenda has been asking about our story.  The story that led us to want to adopt. I've put it off because it just didn't seem like there was much to tell.  So many people have gone through so much more than we that it just didn't feel worthy. We hadn't exhausted our resources in the medical field because we just didn't think it was the right time for us.  Or more accurately, I honestly don't think I could have handled it emotionally.

When we started trying for children a whole 5 months after we got married back in September of 2005, we weren't that serious.  We didn't want to wait too long because we weren't getting any younger.  But we weren't entirely sure we were ready for parenthood either.  We were conflicted.  I needed to finish my schooling and David was contemplating going back to school.  We didn't really have our path decided on.  We just weren't sure where we were headed in the next little while.  So though we didn't stop anything, we didn't worry too much as the months kept passing by.

And then the months kept passing by... and passing... and passing.  I had graduated, got a job.  David was back in school.  We were older.  We wanted children.  Sure it wasn't the ideal time with tuition on the horizon, but we didn't care about that.  We knew that the Lord would provide should He decide to bless us with a little one.  So we started counting days, making use of ovulation kits, paying attention to temperature etc.  Nothing.  Next step was the doctor.

End of 2007 we went to a doctor that we both hated.  Took blood tests and couldn't quite bring myself to go back.  Got busy with life and left it for awhile.  In 2008 the passing months got too much again.  So we went to the Women's Center to a recommended doctor and had a better experience.  He actually explained a few things, like what the tests were for and how it all worked.  We did the tests, got the blood drawn, went through lovely exploratory procedures to rule out the usual suspects, and went on Clomid.  What a lovely little drug so full of disappointment.  Fortunately one of my other good friends, Ginny, informed me that the drug actually gives you all the signs of being pregnant.  Hot flashes, brain leakage, mood swings, the works.  Which is why it's so disappointing to have that monthly unwanted visitor still come and visit.  And visit it did.

Back to the doctor.  "Oh my, you have a cyst!  I don't feel comfortable putting you on other drugs until the cyst is taken care of."  Ummm. okay?  "Let's wait a month and see if it goes away all by itself.  Besides we don't know if it was there before the drug or if the drug actually caused it."  Ummmm. Okay.  So we waited until that lovely visitor came around once again, back to the doctor, cyst still there.  "How about we wait another month?"  Ummm, not so okay but okay.  Another month rolls by with same results.  At least they are prepared somewhat for my tears of frustration by this time.

Only frustration doesn't really sum it up.  How about living day to day knowing how badly you and your spouse want a family and realizing that it's your body that is failing.  Your body that is providing this monthly let down.  And still more months go by.  Finally surgery is the option of choice to take this cyst away since it's clearly in for the long haul.  Oh and did I mention that in the meantime I got to be on another lovely drug that was supposed to balance some kind of hormone level with the thrilling side effect of depression?  Yeah, those were good times.

Surgery successful.  The surgery to remove "Bob" (yes, by this time the hated thing had a name) did the job and he was gone.  More drugs?  Not yet, let's give the body time to sufficiently heal.

I took myself off of the drug with the depression side effects and David rejoiced that he has his wife back and she smiles!  Voluntarily!  He was overjoyed. 

A few more months pass and back to the doctor we go. And guess what?!  Wait for it, wait for it... Bob had a brother!  Took up residence once he left.  Tears.  Another month passes and the brother-of-Bob stays.  That's when I couldn't take it anymore.  At this point my doctor is giving me that "oh, it's you again" look.  Very encouraging.  Like I wasn't feeling bad enough already.  So I quit. I took myself out of the biological baby-making game and threw myself into adoption.

We had been thinking about it for awhile but had never felt it was the right time.  July of 2009 we felt like it was the right time as well as the only option that would keep me sane.  It was wonderful to be doing something that didn't involve my dysfunctional body!  This was paperwork, and pictures, and interviews.  It was heavenly and hopeful.  Our hearts were lifted and hope for a family returned.  We cried as birth mothers told their stories.  We cried as adoptive parents shared their joy at a prayer answered by a birth mother angel.  I day dreamed about the day we would be chosen.  How we would tell our families.  What we needed to prepare for it.  What our little one would look like.  I still think about it, just not as much.

When we started the adoption process David wanted to keep both doors open, adoption and biological, and I was amenable to that as long as it was on my terms.  I have trouble dividing where my energies and hopes go.  My body had disappointed me for so long that I couldn't put any trust in it anymore... at least not till now.

On Memorial day at the annual Robbin's family celebratory grave hopping ritual, we were bombarded out of the blue with stories of IVF and what it entailed.  Ok, bombarded might be extreme, but two very separate and hard to run into people were run into and brought up their story all by themselves.  It got us thinking.  It got me thinking.  Perhaps it's time to open up that biological door and let in a little air.

So we've decided to go travel the biological route again.  Or at least look a little farther down that road.  Best part is that I'm also feeling okay with both doors being opened.  I don't care where our family comes from, I just want a family.  I want to join the ranks of sleepless nights and diaper brigades. I want to capture those half smiles in the sleep and the discovery of toes.  Our family is just a couple.  It's not complete.

So, on Monday July 19th we will be meeting with a specialist in the Salt Lake area.  He's been involved in the field since the first IVF pregnancy was done in the 80s and was actually at the hospital where it was performed.  It gives me hope.  We hadn't thought much about this route before because it's just so expensive.  However we just found out that David's insurance, that sometimes we curse, is actually phenomenal when it comes to fertility.  We pay $500 and they pay 100% of the rest.  We seriously had no idea.  So at this point we have nothing to lose.  Hope is alive once more.

Then I filled out the online questionnaire and had a bit of a reality check.  It asks all sorts of questions about how old your mom was with the first and last child.  Is there a history of infertility in the family?  Do my sisters have trouble getting pregnant?  Any weird drugs?  Any health problems?  I can't tell you how completely discouraging it was to answer no to all of those questions!  No, there are no problems with any other member of my family for generations with infertility.  I am the anomaly.  I am the exception.  What's wrong with me?

I have two purposes for this route.  Well, I guess it's all the same.  Can I have children or can't I?  Up to this point it has not been clearly defined.  No one knows why my body is misbehaving.  No one's been willing to take it that far.  Heaven knows I am but I need some help getting there. I need a professional to outline my routine so all of the diagnostic steps can be taken and an answer achieved.

I honestly am okay with finding out I can't have children.  I just want to know.  It's the not knowing that is so difficult.  No answers.  Just guesses.  Dark alleys of wondering.  If I know why this is happening to me, or rather not happening, then I really can go on.  No more divided loyalties.

So, there you have it Brenda and all who have ventured this far into an incredibly long post.  That's where our story is right now.  Here's where we venture into that one dark and unexplored alley to see what's really there.  And here's to hoping for a happy ending.