What to Respect when NOT Expecting is an organization with two main goals: "to give those going through fertility challenges an assurance that
there are people out there who get it, and to give friends and relatives
of people going through it a gauge on what not to say.”"
You may or may not be aware of this, but the organization I've been heavily involved in, Families Supporting Adoption, is drastically reducing the scope of it's impact and purpose. Essentially it no longer exists aside from a few sporadically hosted events and a fireside or two. Ever since finding out about this development I have wanted to create a safe place for families struggling with infertility to come and grieve together, and I still do, but this organization fulfills in part some of that goal!
I really hope you understand what a community like this means to those who are struggling very openly or very secretly with infertility and find some way to support this cause!
And just for the sake of sharing, I have had multiple elderly women suggest we leave church and go home and have sex right then so as to "not waste anymore time." And last night in book club someone talking about adoption referenced "giving up" and "real parents," two terms that always make me cringe.
PS I will be updating the blog this week, so we will no longer be "hoping to adopt." Sorry about the delay on that!
That statement has many meanings, but this morning two come to mind.
First, I can't be a mom without my husband. Some women can do that, and I applaud them and their amazingness and capacity, but I cannot. These past few weeks as he works so hard finishing up his Ph.D. I have felt lonely in my trials (not alone because caring for two children one is never alone). However, his return home always lifts my heart and makes the long day I just had seem manageable again tomorrow -- even when that return is at 10pm. I can not be a mom without my husband.
Second, I would not be a mom today without two other moms who placed their children in our home and hearts. All three of us, together, create the vision of motherhood for our family. That realization is humbling and heart-breaking. The fact that I am physically unable to be the complete mothering package for my children is sad for me, but I wouldn't trade that heartache for anything because of the love that swells inside of me this morning for my babies and the women who created and love them just as much as I do. I can not be a mom without these women.
I am not the sole bearer of the title "Mother" in our family. In fact, I'm not even the first "Mother" for my kids. They were mothered and loved long before I even knew they existed. But even though there's heart-break that comes with infertility, I could not be happier about sharing this role with the two bravest and strongest women I know. What company I share when I have no right to share it -- no right at all! I am only here because of them, and my heart overflows with joy, love, gratitude, hope, peace, and happiness for the life I lead, no matter how hard some days are, because of my children's first mothers.
I can't be a mom all by myself, and I couldn't be happier about it!
I admit it, right now, at this very moment, my heart is sad. I love Alexa more than I can say and I am completely in love with Nicholas and cannot express how much meaning and light he brings into my life.
But right now I am really missing our next little miracle. I want to make him/her a little stocking for Christmas and fill it with wonderful little Bambino goodies! I want to hold our little Sneetch and cuddle with him/her with one hand and type a completely different post right now with my other hand.
I want Alexa to love and dote upon her little sibling. She is going to be SUCH a good sister...and a little ornery for sure, but that's to be expected.
I want Nick to have a little boy buddy or to be swarmed in a house full of girls! He is SUCH a wonderful father and any child would be so blessed to have him as their Dad-dad!
Recently when a friend has shared their happy pregnancy news or even their happy adoption news (which I usually get more excited about, even when my heart is hurting a bit), I still feel happy, but then an immediate aching begins. My heart gets so confused at those moments.
I know we've only been approved for the second time since August, but I can't tell you how many times I have wished that the unknown number on my phone was a potential birthmom. Really, it's every time. I know we are probably only at the very beginning of our journey to our little Sneetch and we have a long way to go, but that knowledge does not help me temper my emotions at all.
In fact, none of the blessings I have mentioned help ease the aching or homesick feeling I get when all I want are my babies to be with me. I can wait until it's right, but I wish that the right time comes very soon...and that wish and the thoughts and feelings that accompany it make my heart ache so much!
I think I thought this go around would be easier, just because we've done it before and are used to wanting our children with us. We're infertility veterans, so I just assumed I'd be able to deal with this aching better over time. I suppose in some ways it definitely is easier because I know adoption works and that is extremely comforting. I don't want to discount how much I trust the adoption process and the Lord's timing in putting our family together and how much easier that knowledge makes this adoption experience easier.
It's also easier because Alexa is here and being a Mom at all is such a blessing...one I wasn't sure I'd have during the first time adopting. How grateful I am to be a Mom!
But the heartaches are not easier, and the longing for my babies who aren't here is not easier. And the increased longing I feel around the holidays is not easier.
So this rambling post is just a plea to the world wide web...because where else can I make this plea that makes anymore sense? My plea is this:
Hey next little Miracle, our little Sneetch! Please come to our family soon! Your Mommy misses you and wants you home! And bring your birth-family with you, because we miss them, too! I love you more than I even know or can understand, and so does your Dad-dad and sister! See you soon, kiddo!
Remember that one time before Alexa (I barely do sometimes...) that I was working? Well, I was, and I worked for this non-profit in Denver that helped run an alternative high school for teen moms. Maybe you've heard of it: Florence Crittenton High School? Ring any bells?
Well, if it does ring any bells, it might be because that high school is now the subject of the new TLC show High School Moms. I haven't been able to watch any episodes yet, but I've seen clips and interviews and mostly the school looks just as incredible on TV as it does in real life.
While I was working there, seeing all these pregnant or parenting teen moms, and at that time very much wanting my own children in my family, the question I got most often was "Is it really hard working there?"
I don't know this student, but I know the nurse and she is one of the most fabulous people ever met!
I must admit that some days/situations were harder to bare than others, but mostly I found so much unexpected love, admiration, respect, and joy for those moms and their children! I was planning on going in there, doing my data analysis work, and going home. The problem with that plan was that as I spoke with the students and learned of their love and dedication to their children and families that it was so easy to fall in love with them and their children! My whole experience there made it possible for me to let go of my jealousy and envy and anger towards single moms who choose to parent and embrace them as loving mothers, just like me.
My sister was a teen mom and parented her daughter (Abby), and is now a wonderful mother to her three children. She is married to her children's father, and they have created a wonderful family together of which I admire and strive to emulate on a regular basis.
Me, my niece Abby, and my Sister Cindy after a trip to the mall.
I hold no resentment towards teen moms or single moms, like Hayley, who choose to parent their children instead of placing them for adoption. They're not preventing me from parenting my own children, they're just loving theirs. How can I be angry when their biggest crime is that they love their children too much to let them go? My only hope is that I can help them through their challenges as a mother, as I hope they can also help me through mine. Lord knows my life has been immeasurably blessed by teen/single moms, and I am so grateful for those moms who have shown me so much of what being a loving mom is all about.
***Disclaimer: Alexa's birthmom does not fit that single or teen mom description at all, so I maintain that my admiration for teen/single mom's is unbiased and extremely reliable. I have not been compensated for this post, nor will I be because, honestly, no one is willing to pay me for it.***
Nick and I went to a movie screening of The Odd Life of Timothy Green in Denver a couple weeks ago with Families Supporting Adoption and it was so much fun! (If you don't know what movie I'm talking about, watch this trailer.)
Let me just say, this movie is not my absolute favorite movie in the world, but it is pretty great and absolutely worth seeing (out in theaters yesterday)! There are certainly a lot of unflattering reviews out there, but I'm glad I saw it, despite the movie's odd/magical premise.
I think more so than capturing the adoption experience, because it didn't really at all, it captured the infertile experience better than any movie I've ever seen. The longing, hoping, disappointment (the one time I nearly cried was when the mom was in the bathroom crying over her newly discovered sterility), annoyance with crazy parents, and the excitement of finally having a child to call your own. This one clip kind of expresses that last point well:
Don't you love that?!
There were a couple times that I was like "Yes! That's totally happened to me/I would act that way!" (For example Cindy Green's sister says to her "I thought you were going to try to have kids of your own." Cindy's response was great: "When I first saw Timothy he sure felt like my own.") There were other times that I was like "No, that's actually completely ridiculous." (For example, they make the Green's case workers out to be really intimidating and scary, which is not true to life at all - case workers are truly on your side...actually, they're on the child's side.)
All in all, I think people should see this movie, if only to better understand the infertile couple's struggles. It really is worth seeing, so pay no mind to all those negative reviews out there!
I think this is the third time I've started this post, because I've had the feelings and thoughts but have been unsure how to form them coherently.
That was until I watched this video (again) and realized that sometimes I, like NieNie, mourn for the loss of the woman I thought I was going to become. By now I thought I was going to be a young mom with 4 kids under the age of 6 with one on the way and planning on having at least 2-3 more. I wanted to have that beautiful family of young children causing raucous during church with my hair frazzled and exhausted at days end because I had worked so hard at being a pregnant mom trying to wrangle my small but growing family. That woman I imagined had been bred for motherhood glory, endowed with
child-bearing hips and so many babysitting opportunities in her youth it would make anyone's head spin! She was everything every other mom
looked to as a pillar of strength because she fulfilled all her
responsibilities with her young family and still served others willingly and faithfully and kept her home cute and beautiful. Her life was far too perfect to be actually real for anyone to be living. It was unrealistic, sure, but in some sense plausible.
Occasionally, more often as we go through adoption paperwork, I mourn over the loss of that once idealistic scenario of mine. That picture in my head of that woman I thought I would become fades with every passing day that I am not pregnant or not adopting another child. I do--I really mourn that woman because I know she will never exist. At least not how I pictured her...not how I pictured myself and my life and my family. Many tears have been shed over her, and many more are still to come, I'm certain of that.
I am already 25, almost 26, and have only one baby and there are currently 4 exposed nails pounded into my walls where frames have been removed and nothing has replaced them. The mother and homemaker at one time I thought I would be at this point is a fantasy, and sometimes when I linger on that fantasy I forget about the fantastical life I do have.
My husband is a wonderful provider, financially, spiritually, emotionally, et cetera-ly for our family. He loves me and we just celebrated a wonderful 6th anniversary together this past Saturday.
My daughter is a miracle in our family placed with us for time and eternity by two wonderfully amazing parents who love her as much as Nick and I do. Not many parents have people in their children's lives that love their children as much as they do, but our children do/will.
I had the opportunity to get an advanced education where learned so many fascinating things, but mostly that I am capable of doing things I never thought I could. In that vision I had of myself in the past, I never ever was doing data analysis and really enjoying my work. That wasn't my "area" of skill or interest.
I think perhaps the thing I am most grateful for that I could not have ever guessed as a younger woman was that I would eventually be so incredibly grateful for the trial of infertility as much I am today. How could I have known that the experiences related to my greatest trial (so far) would shape my faith and the way I serve others and the compassion I have for others and the love I have for my husband and daughter so abundantly that I can't imagine my life without those experiences? And why would I want to?
I have such a wonderful life and I am blessed everyday to be living in it! Sometimes thoughts of that once-fantasy life creeps in my mind and I once again take a moment to mourn the loss of that young mother who has it all and can grow her family whenever she wants. Sure those thoughts come, and I honestly don't want those thoughts to ever go away completely. While the specifics can't be as I thought they would be, the happy home and family I imagined certainly can be. That vision, while different, is a lot closer and more attainable than I sometimes think it is. And those visions I receive of that version of me who has "it all" keeps me striving for "it all" (as much as I can control) in my current circumstance.
And even if I never have another child, or a dog, or a home that is the envy of the neighborhood, I still have such a beautiful life! And I am grateful for it everyday!
I honestly wouldn't change a thing...except for maybe those exposed nails on the wall. Something must be done there.
I have spent more time than I should have in the past few days dreaming instead of doing. Does that ever happen to you? You dream so much and your dreams seem so nice that actually being productive in reality gets in the way. Mostly I've been feeling that all my dreams can't come to fruition right now due to any number of reasons: it's impractical, there's not enough money, there's one too many kids to get things done, there's too many cysts on my ovaries. You get the idea.
Am I the only one that ever feels this way? A bit limited by my circumstances; like my dreams are too big for me to actually do anything about? (For example, I spent a precious naptime on a website last week creating my dream house. I only got through the first floor before I realized what an incredible waste of time the "project" was.)
"Everyone can create. You don’t need money, position, or influence in order to create something of substance or beauty. Creation
brings deep satisfaction and fulfillment. We develop ourselves and
others when we take unorganized matter into our hands and mold it into
something of beauty...What you create doesn’t have to be
perfect. So what if the eggs are greasy or the toast is burned? Don’t
let fear of failure discourage you. Don’t let the voice of critics
paralyze you—whether that voice comes from the outside or the inside."
I nearly let my own interior critic stop me from making a new meal I had never done before. It was so simple, but because I didn't know one step in the process I didn't actually make it for weeks. On Tuesday I did it! No, it wasn't perfect, but I did it, and sometimes that's the hardest part. The same fear (no surprise it was another cooking ambition) overcame me on April 1st until Nick said "it seems like you are trying to come up with every excuse not to make these. Either do it or don't and move on."
Ya know what? The cinnamon rolls turned out delicious and we ended up taking some to a new family in the area. The question at hand is then, why do I let this inner-naysayer make so many decisions for me, and paralyze me in such a crippling way? Someone once told me to never take advice from your fears. For some that's easy, but it is a constant battle for me to just start something, especially if I haven't done it before.
"Let’s make sure to set our 'do it' switch always to the 'now' position!"
Today I am going to do that. I am not going to waste precious time thinking of what could be instead of creating what could be. No, I can't do everything that my clever mind concocts, but there's a lot more I can do as I set out with my "do it switch" in the "now position."
There's a lot more I find can be done, despite my circumstances, when I spend less time dreaming and more time doing.
The more I study the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the more I realize that it is so profound in its simplicity. It's all about transformation.
Transforming sinners into saints, men and women into Gods and Goddesses, individuals into families, carnal into eternal, and, in this case 151.4 lbs. into 135 lbs.
151.4 lbs is what I weighed in yesterday morning, I think the most I have ever weighed in my life. I honestly don't know if other people can tell I weigh that much (I am quite muscular), but I can sure tell, and I don't like it.
And you know, I've said it before, I can do hard things, and so if I don't like something about my life, I can change it!
I have tried eating healthier and running daily in the past, and the thing with eating well and exercising is that when you do it consistently, it actually works! Two summers ago I weighed 135ish pounds and felt great and got compliments from people on how I looked. I had eating healthy goals and ran 2 miles 5 days a week (I know around here that's child's play, but back then that was a lot for me).
Back then I had been told by my Reproductive Endocrinologist that exercising daily would help the cysts on my ovaries chill out a bit and help the crazy medication he was giving me work better. So that was my motivation when I wanted to be lazy instead of run or when I got tired while running. I would push myself and say "This is for you little baby. I'm going to be better for you. I'm going to run faster for you. I'm going to run harder for you." And so on and so forth. It was all about becoming a mother, which worked as motivation for me back then.
Once we decided that adoption was our Plan A, my running eventually tapered off and became extremely sporadic, and became a decision I had to make everyday instead of one I had already made. For me losing weight cannot be just about the weekly weigh-in, because I won't lose weight everyday/week and sometimes I'm willing to sacrifice a pound or two for a delicious slice of cheesecake or a mountain of French Toast.
This is where making my workout and "diet" (I put it in quotes because 2,000 calories is what I should be eating, I'm just going to be more diligent about it) spiritual is so important. Weight loss goals come and go, but living physically well is a lifestyle, just like living spiritually, emotionally, and intellectually well are. It's about transforming the self that is "acted upon" by cravings and slothfulness into the self that acts upon those things with self-control and determination. (source, verse 14) It's about transforming the self that is eating too often to tidy the house into the self that is able to serve others because the new self has her life in order.
I'll share more about the specifics of my workout and diet plan soon, I just thought I would pontificate upon some of my thoughts as of recently in regards to my body and how I am trying to accept it for what it is as well as make it the best I can! And as a parting thought, here was something I found extremely funny on Pinterest the other day. Enjoy!
I was originally going to make this post concerning a week I spent with Alexa, on my own, as Nick was at a conference in California. I felt good at the end of that week! I had done a lot of things I wasn't sure I could do, and I wanted to brag about it. And while the title of the post remains true, I would like to take this conversation to another place.
A place of humility instead of pride.
A place that I wish to take my little sister, Suzy, as she is about to embark on fulfilling a call from God to serve a mission in the Texas Houston area, come November 16th.
I want her, and all of you, to know that we, as children of a divine creator, can do hard things. I can do hard things. Before I ever think about retreating from something, I say this mantra to myself, and then re-evaluate. If it is not necessary that's one thing, but those things are not to what I am referring. I am saying I can do hard things that God wants me to do because he will make me capable to do them.
Just after Nick and I got engaged, and just after we decided to begin our family we read this speech given by Elder Jeffery R. Holland, one of the Lord's disciples on the earth today, in which he said
"Cast not away therefore your confidence, which hath great recompense of reward. For you have need of patience that after ye have done the will of God, ye receive the promise...We are are not of them that draw back into perdition...I think that is to say, sure it's tough, that is the way it has always been...Don't panic and retreat. Don't lose your confidence. Don't forget how you once felt. Don't distrust the experience you had."
I think about the experiences in my life that have given me the most cause for retreating. My first year in college was one, and my trial with infertility has been another. In both cases there was so much adversity that I doubted God remembered me at all, let alone had my best interests at heart. And both times I had experiences that proved those times of doubt completely false! And both times I received rewards for my continued efforts that I could never have imagined!
My pleading call to my little sister today is to always remember how much God loves you! Always remember and hold tightly onto the experiences you have had that testify of that truth to your heart! Always remember that no matter how hard life gets, now and forever, that as a beloved daughter of an almighty Father, you can do hard things! Always remember that "after you have gotten the message, after you have paid the price to feel his love and hear the word of the Lord, 'go forward.' Don't fear, don't vacillate, don't quibble, don't whine." The hard things you can do are completely worth their reward!
God is not cheap in his gift-giving like some of our relatives...you know who you are! ;)
Be strong, kid-o. Everything in life from here on out is going to be hard because you are doing good things and The Adversary wants to destroy good as often as He can. But always remember, you can do hard things! I love you so much, Suzy! You make everyone in our family so proud because of all the good that you do and the joy and hope you give to each of us as you daily remind us that we can all do hard things!
Just in case you'd rather not read the talk, this YouTube video gives highlights. Enjoy!
***One last, seemingly unrelated thought. Jen, our sister, gave me some advice before I left for BYU that I will never forget. She told me "People are the most important." More than anything else, how we treat others is a testament to how we live the Gospel of Jesus Christ. More than getting somewhere on time, more than getting work done, and even more than our own personal path of perfection. People, God's children, are His greatest glory, and they should be ours, too. That piece of advice has served me well, so I thought I would pass it along to you.***
I'm excited to hear about all the good, hard things you will do in the mission field! You will be surely missed, though. Perhaps more than I can understand right now. Love you!
I read this great blog (my go-to for a lot of fashion tips), and the author began this guest author segment called Beauty-ful Tuesday. I thought just in case I am asked to include my thoughts on beauty, I'd like to be prepared. Here are my thoughts for the day.
I feel like my life has been a lesson on acceptance. Whether that's accepting my body, my face, my circumstances, or just accepting others and everything that goes with them. Some situations and people are easy to accept and love and it's just a natural kind of connection, other things take work. (i.e. Accepting my long, thick, blond hair is fairly easy; accepting my dysfunctional ovaries is a bit more challenging.) Some days I go to sleep at night wishing I'll wake up as a size 6 with clear skin (which explains the inordinate amount of skin remedies I have in the bathroom cabinets). Then I wake up and start my day disappointed with myself. Too often I spend my time trying to figure out how to balance changing the person I am into who I want to be and accepting the person that I am right now and spit in that skinny, clear-skinned girls face (nobody likes skinny, clear-skinned girls anyway).
Surprisingly, I think I've been doing it wrong.
To accept something means you take it as it is, and are happy. But, acceptance is no way to treat something that you interact with everyday, that you can control (to some extent), and that is eternal. My body, my beauty, does not need acceptance from me. It needs to be embraced! When I think of the people that are easiest for me to accept and admire, I realize acceptance is only the beginning of those relationships. I embrace those people. I want them to envelope me with their beauty, excitement, and wonder. I want to be surrounded by each of them so completely because they inspire me to develop qualities that I already have into characteristics of the person I hope to someday become.
From now on, I think I'll try to first accept my imperfect beauty of today, and embrace my potential beauty of eternity. Accept then embrace, the latter of which means (to me) doing all I can to develop, strengthen, and transform today's imperfect beauty into a perfected beauty that I can truly be proud of.
Isn't that what eternity is for? To improve and perfect what we have been given? And just because my beauty isn't perfected yet does not mean that I don't have all the ingredients inside of me already to get me there.
Giving up on my beauty now would be like throwing out some blackened bananas because their beauty is not obviously there. I am a blackened banana: full of over-ripe potential preparing to make some delicious banana bread!
But not banana nut bread. Nobody likes nuts in their bread; dysfunctional ovaries; or skinny, clear-skinned girls. Okay, I maybe wrong about the girls, but I stand by the nut-thing. And the ovaries.
***Just to be clear, if I ever write an auto-biography, I call dibs on the title
"I Am a Blackened Banana: A Memoir". Respect the dibs!***
One of my dear friends from BYU asked me to help her with a lesson about how I use/d Christ's atoning sacrifice to help me through my infertility struggles. This is what I wrote:
Homesick is the best way I know how to describe the pains of infertility. It’s just this aching of wanting to be with the people you love and yet have no power over making that union happen. That’s how I felt for 5 years of wanting children and not being able to bear them. The powerless feeling that I felt over my family and my body was awful, but what made it worse was that I knew this desire was righteous and what the Lord wanted me to be doing. So I was homesick for my babies, frustrated because I couldn’t do anything about it, and confused because I thought God wasn’t doing anything about it either. I felt this way for what seemed like a very long time.
Many talks and reminders from the Spirit helped me through this challenging time in my life, and the chorus of a fairly new Primary song was one of those reminders:
“God gave us families to help us become what He wants us to be--
This is how He shares His love, for the family is of God.”
I loved that song the first time I heard it, but it took a while to have it sink in enough for me to realize that because families are of God, He is going to take care of mine. I don’t have to be afraid that I would never have children, or afraid that my prayers were not being heard, or afraid that God had forgotten about me, or afraid that my wonderful husband would never get to be a dad because of my silly ovaries. I did not have to live in fear because I could move forward with faith that families, and their purposes, are of God, and not of me. I did not have to fear because God provided a way for our family to be together forever, and that way is through Christ and His atonement.
The Savior atoned so I could live with faith and find joy even though I could not understand why my righteous desires were not being fulfilled when and how I wanted them to be. The Savior atoned so that I can be with my husband and beautiful adopted daughter in the temple to be sealed as a family for all eternity. The Savior atoned so I could understand more fully how much God loves me and is aware of me and my family. The Savior atoned so my tears, sorrow, pain, homesickness, and fear of infertility did not keep me from returning to Heavenly Father, but in fact helped me become the person I need to be to get me there.
Thank you, Aubrey for the opportunity to write this out and explore my feelings and convictions about my gratitude for my infertility more deeply!
If you have any questions about anything I just wrote, please feel free to leave a comment, email us, or visit our church's website.
Last night before bed I caught myself reading our blessing book entries from back in January.
What? You don't know what a blessing book is? It's our nightly journal where we say at least one thing that happened that we recognized the hand of the Lord in our lives that day.
What? You don't know what happened in January? That was when our failed adoption happened. Those posts seemed like a lifetime ago...and it has only been 6 months!
***Just as a side note, I hate that term: failed adoption. It sounds so bummer-ish and depressing. I'll be brainstorming a new phrase that reflects my feelings about the experience more accurately. TBA***
Back to last night: for the first time since Alexa's birth I kinda longed for that other little girl that I prayed to be ours for months. I had prayed her mom would choose adoption and choose us. Not that I would exchange Alexa, just I wanted them both! How selfish, right?
Well, it's how I felt. And then I told Nick, "I want Aly to have a sister...like now." And then I wanted to get pregnant, like yesterday. And then I felt that twinge of heartache knowing that I couldn't just "do the deed" and have a sister for Aly in me. Of course it's possible, but it hasn't happened in 5 years, and I really try not to get caught up in those thoughts because, even though I'm a mom, they still make me sad.
Those little reminders of my infertility have been hurting more often lately, like friends being pregnant or having baby showers while pregnant. They're reminders of a former life before motherhood, which feels like an eternity ago, and I don't particularly like it. They make me feel ungrateful for the life and experiences I have had because of my infertility. The people I have met and loved and love and will love forever.
So this post is a temporary cleansing of those feelings, because I think they'll creep up again. But for now, I am grateful that to the right of my laptop is a bowl with a little milk leftover from breakfast, a teething ring, an empty bottle, and a dirty receiving blanket. All because of adoption.
And I find myself grateful for my infertility. And my sisters.
I'm a pear. Yes, my body shape is a pear. For most of my life I haven't really liked that about myself, but what can I do?
When I would get discouraged, one of my high school buddies would remind me that I have "perfect child-bearing hips," so when I had kids it would be easier on my body.
Isn't it ironic?
I've also started a weight management program--management because I have control, to some extent, over my body...pounds just don't disappear! So I did a little research and found this awesome information about my beloved pear body shape:
"Anyone can be a pear, but this shape is more common among women, and it actually evolved because fat stored in these areas aids in fertility and breast-feeding.It's an interesting fact — but I know as well as anyone that this type of fat is harder to lose."
"lower figures imply divine fertility, and other popular prerequisites to fertility." (source)
Isn't it ironic? Don't ya think?
So I press forward with my infertile body chalk-full of fertile supporting elements. And yet, I remain optimistic that even though my fertility is out of my hands, the fat content of my fertile elements is not. Good luck to me!
On a really exciting weight gaining note, Alexa weighs 10 lbs, has been promoted to Size 1 diapers, is growing out of many of her newborn sleepers (even the cute ones...tear), and is 13 weeks old tomorrow! Seriously, it's all going by too fast!
MYTH: Infertiles are super sad because of their disease and are super touchy about it, so you shouldn't talk to them about their infertility or babies or your own pregnancy.
BUSTED!: Yeah, there are some insecure sobbies out there, but the majority of us have pretty thick skin and pretty big hearts. It takes a lot to really damage us, and from years of fertility treatments and insensitive questions we're pretty used to talking very openly about our conception issues. Yes, we have our bad days and moments that are emotionally trying, but let's not assume that's a constant state of being. We like educating people about our infertility...why do you suppose there are so many blogs written by infertiles?? (Or an entire week dedicated to infertility awareness? Just sayin'.)
After a recent post I received an email from a long-time friend from high school who said the following:
"I'm often 'scared' to comment about things that I know I don't understand fully and probably never will...And please, don't take offense to this because often reading something doesn't project your tone of voice very well. When a person conceives a child and she has a friend or family member who is having a hard time doing so, is it better to say nothing at all rather than express the joy you are feeling?"
From personal experience/personality, I know it can be uncomfortable talking about something you may not know a whole lot about with someone who knows a whole lot more about that something than you do (hello, I'm married to an astrophysicist for crying out loud). I know that there are fears out there among fertile myrtles that keep them from talking with me or other friends about our disease so as to spare their feelings because something you say may end up on an annoyed blog post (some things I wish people would just stop doing) the next day. I really do understand those hesitations...been there.
NEWSFLASH: We know we're not pregnant, and that's okay. It's never the sincere quandaries from a person who truly wants to know more about our disease that ever hurts, it's the insensitive thoughtless comments that get under our thick skin. I would say 99% of us would rather have you talk and sincerely want to know answers about our disease than not say anything and pretend like it doesn't exist. Infertility exists, it's very real for some of us, and that's okay if you're not part of that elect group. Not just anyone can cut it, so don't beat yourself up. ;)
***Emailing friend, to answer your question: I would think ones you are close to
would be happy to know you're happy, but you could probably spare the details of
pregnancy-only happiness, like hearing the baby's heartbeat, feeling her kick, etc.
I hope that helps!***
If you want to know more about infertility, go here, or ask me...I don't bite.
(If you're not infertile, you can keep on reading as well, this may interest you as well.)
I was involved with a moderately extended Facebook conversation in which some Infertiles sounded off about how frustrating it is when people who have been trying to get pregnant for less than a year claim infertility. You want the definition of infertility? Our friend Wikipedia shares its take on the matter:
"Reproductive endocrinologists, the doctors specializing in infertility, consider a couple to be infertile if: The couple has not conceived after 12 months of contraceptive-free intercourse if the female is under the age of 34. 12 months is the lower reference limit for Time to Pregnancy (TTP) by the World Health Organization." [link here]
I'm going to be honest, it is frustrating on occasion, when other's claim infertility when it's not. But that's my fault, not theirs.
We, as Infertiles, need to reach out to people who are experiencing the fears and sadness of wanting children and not having them, no matter how long they have had those emotions. It's still scary, it's still heartbreaking, it's still lonely.
The first person I shared my fears with was a close friend. She was single and did not know even a morsel of the worries I had, but she empathized and cried with me. That experience happened after Nick and I had been trying to get pregnant for a whopping 4 months! How foolish I would have sounded to others who had been dealing with actual infertility and not my little problem! My friend was an angel for me, but how nice it would have been for me then to have someone who really understood my pain and fears to hold my hand through that scary time in my life!
I naively thought the every other woman got pregnant whenever she wanted, but that was ignorance. Can we really be upset with those who sincerely are searching for a helping and comforting hand and do not know enough about infertility to identify it appropriately? Those syntactical errors maybe keeping us from loving and serving others, which is really silly! Are they trying to offend? No, and it is a fool who takes offense when none was intended.Often times they can't go to a doctor, and they may only have a handful of friends who have experienced what they're feeling. What would we have them do, suffer alone?
Personally, I don't want others who maybe feeling the fear of infertility to be afraid to come to me and ask for help, no matter if those feelings have been with them for a day or a decade. We, as Infertiles, should be other women's first resource of help and strength, and not someone they are worried of offending.
Did Christ ever say "You don't know pain or sorrow. Once you get to Gethsemane and are suffering for the entire world, then come talk to me about heartache and trials"? No, instead He puts up with all our little petty problems and doesn't make us feel like less than He is. In fact, He does not even make our petty problems even feel petty or less than our own personal Gethsemane.
When we struggle, Christ says "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest...For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." [link here] What do we as humans really know about being "heavy laden[ed]," but Christ, our Redeemer and Savior, said we can take our burdens to Him. If His yoke is easy, what do any of us have to complain about, or why should we make others feel less because we think their burden is less than our own?
Infertiles everywhere (within the readership of this blog), let us take upon ourselves the yoke of Christ, which is to "bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light;Yea, and...mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort." [link here] We went through our infertility trial for a purpose, and I like to think that purpose is to better serve our fellow [wo]man and God. Isn't that what all our trials are for anyway?
Speaking of serving, a dear friend of mine who held my virtual hand through our failed adoption is having a Hysterectomy and is sad and scared. Please keep your thoughts and prayers with this amazing woman! She inspires many and now needs our help. Thanks!
I saw a movie a while back and am watching tonight while getting some tedious work done (yes, I realize it's Christmas, but that's what happens on occasion when you have a low-paying high-demand job at a non-profit that you love). It's Julie & Julia and I would recommend it to anyone, especially girls, who have a pulse. It's awesome!
Let me tell you, I cried at the scene when Julia and her husband Paul are cooking and talking and laughing like any other time in the kitchen, and then she receives a letter from her newly-married sister. Julia's sister, Dorothy, told her she was pregnant, and this is what Julia said:
"Dorothy is pregnant. Hmmm. Ooo, Paul!"
(Her loving husband Paul walks over to her and puts his arm around her shoulder.)
"Isn't...isn't that WONDERFUL!"
(She then sobs into his shoulder and he comforts her so naturally, like he's probably done a billion times before then...aren't husbands wonderful?)
"I'm so happy!" Then Paul says, "I know. I know."
I am sitting here wondering if only people who have felt desperate for children can understand her logic, or if people experience other joys that cause them wrenching pain at the same time. I honestly don't know, but it seems like the latter would be more plausible. Just as a little side note.
Does it still hurt when family or close friends announce they are expecting?
I can only remember a handful of times it did actually hurt, and I remember the first time it didn't anymore. Once I realized that I did not want their baby or happiness, that I was just anxious for my own, it hurt much less. Jealousy is very different than that aching feeling, the latter I think is okay. I ache for our children and want them to be with us everyday, because it's a righteous desire, but not at the expense of another's family or happiness.
This thought has really helped me get perspective: "Who makes us feel that if God is smiling on another, then He surely must somehow be frowning on us? You and I both know who does this—it is the father of all lies." (Elder Holland, The Other Prodigal)
My sister is currently pregnant, and I seriously couldn't be happier for her and her family!! Besides, this means I'll be getting a new adorable niece or nephew soon, (my guess is nephew), and maybe we could provide a playmate for him/her! Yay for families!!
How do you handle all the waiting? You seem so upbeat and calm about everything. For me, the waiting is the hardest part of infertility, and I can only imagine it doesn't get less frustrating with adoption...
We handle the waiting by not waiting, but doing. Waiting is passive and miserable, but there are always good things to be doing even if it's not what you would have chosen for yourself initially. It also helps that we know that this waiting is what God wants for our family, and "every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude." (Joseph B. Wirthlin, Come What May and Love It)
I stumbled across this post and decided that I have a lot of pointers for my 14-year old self. To give you an idea of where I was at when I was 14, I just started my freshman year of high school and my family and personal life was pretty confusing...as is I imagine for most 14-year olds. I had just been kissed, and dismissed, by my first boy, my middle school friends were doing things I didn't want to do, and I was in a big new school and felt lost and forgotten. Without any further adieu...
1. Let people take pictures of you; you don't always have to be the photographer and you are going to miss out on saving these special memories you are making.
You've always been such a happy person and you and Nick are absolutely perfect together. You both genuinely seem happy. Besides the whole infertility thing, have you guys EVER had a problem??
Nope. Our life together is perfect.
Okay, not really, but I think we handle the problems that do arise very well. Everything is a "we problem," not a "me problem." This is a lesson I am still learning, and something I had a really difficult time with after we were married. Infertility was my fault and I needed to deal with it. Student loans were my fault and I needed to pay them off. Marriage is very difficult when you view the relationship as two people who love each other living under the same roof. Problems HAVE to be addressed by the unit.
Nicholas is endlessly patient with me as I still, on occasion, have episodes where I feel guilty about my weaknesses. He reminds me that "If [we] are not one, then [we] are not [God's]" (D&C 38:27). We are many things, but if nothing else, we are His children. That vision of who we are has been and will continue to be invaluable when it comes to our marriage and family.
And if we "genuinely seem happy" it's because we are! We have such a good life, we know it, and we look forward to the life God has in store for us!
