I really don't know what will develop out of this blog, but that seems to be the story of my life. All I can say is that this will be a truly heartfelt blog, as it is a way for me to express my feelings about the difficulties I am facing, without the problem of crying, or causing discomfort to others, at least not directly.
We have been married for just over 5 years, and before that we were blissfully ignorant of the difficulties of infertility. My mother is what you might call a "Fertile Myrtle" (I have been told that all 7 of my Mom's pregnancies were conceived while on birth control), and my sister followed a similar course. I assumed that it would be the same way with me. For this reason I made sure I did what I could to not get pregnant in the first year. I wanted to make sure hubby and I were comfortable with each other first. A few months before getting married I went to the Dr., who happened to be the same doctor who delivered me, and he gave me some birth control, Yasmin.
At this point I had no idea that birth control could cause major physical problems. Hubby and I married, and then a few months later I started have severe chest pains. Come to find out, it was the birth control. We decided to leave the pill alone, and try some other methods of birth control. After a few weeks of awkwardness, we were convinced that we would be better off just getting pregnant, and abandoned the birth control altogether.
After a few months of no birth control, we became increasingly excited to get pregnant. A year later, we were still excited to get pregnant, but increasingly more discouraged. We decided to take others advice and pursue fertility treatments. The day of our first appointment we found out we were pregnant. Yea! Our second Dr.'s visit we saw our baby, but no heartbeat. I think that comparing that feeling to being hit by a bus would be quite accurate. I re-live that feeling every time I see it portrayed in the media, such as on "Marley and Me."
I think we heard every speculation possible about why we had miscarried. "You were too stressed", or "there was probably something wrong with the baby."
Other big events came up in our life to conceal my pain from the public, but only my husband knew what kind of torture this was for me. I think that if he wasn't there for me, I would be a much different person, and certainly less functioning.
To throw salt on the wound there was a huge scandal about a pregnant 12 year-old in England planning to raise the baby herself. My biggest question was "Why is God doing this to me?" Why does he not see me fit to be a mother, but he entrusts a single 12 year-old child with a baby. I didn't understand.
Two more years passed, and I became pregnant again. This time I was more cautious, but inwardly I was ecstatic! We went to visit family to share our joy with them. Soon after we returned home, I ended up in the emergency room with excruciating pain. I was miscarrying again. This time I received the greatest advice I have ever received. My Mom told me to serve as much as I possibly could, so then I wouldn't have time to think about myself while the wound was still so fresh. It worked well, and I made it through without the devastation I experienced the first time.
It has now been another year and a half since my second miscarriage, and we have decided that adoption is what we should be doing right now. I hope that this blog might be able to help someone to find comfort in their challenges as I chronicle our journey through adoption and our other adventures in our pursuit of parenthood.
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