Our house

Our house

Friday, April 22, 2011

Not pregnant again...

So its been a rough several months.  I haven't posted in a while partly because I have been getting my head wrapped around the fact that I am infertile. Period (pun definitely intended).  It isn't a mistake. It's not the timing.  It is truly the fact that I cannot make a baby.  I am BARREN. 

From Dictionary.com
1. not producing or incapable of producing offspring; sterile: a barren woman.
2. unproductive; unfruitful: barren land.
3. without capacity to interest or attract: a barren period in American architecture.
4. mentally unproductive; dull; stupid.
5. not producing results; fruitless: a barren effort.
6. destitute; bereft; lacking (usually followed by of ): barren of tender feelings.
 
Pleasant isn't it?
We have been seeing a specialist since December.  We have been having unprotected sex for almost 2 years now, and actively trying to get pregnant for a year and a half.  We are still doing tests and procedures to figure out what is wrong.  So far everything on my end looks ok.  Everything on my DH's end is competent.  His sperm arent jumping out of the cup like some enthusiastic goldfish, but the count is normal.  We have tried IUI this month.  Its when they inseminate you (like an episode of  Dirty Jobs I saw once with some cows) by inserting a catheter past your cervix and shooting in your husbands most perky and active sperm to the place that is most efficient for fertilization. We are trying this now because it is cheap and if it doesnt work then it could be much worse stuff on the horizon.  Surgery.  Thousands of dollars worth of injectable drugs that finishes making me a nutcase where the infertility leaves off.  Even more thousands of dollars of possible in vitro fertilization.  Needles harvesting my artificially induced eggs from grapefruit sized ovaries through my vagina.  Vaginal wands seeking pictures of my insides.  And none of it guaranteed to work.  And I will be in debt for tens of thousands of dollars, and broke.  And broken. 

Is it worth it?  I dont know.  I know having to deal with disappointment for the last 2 years has changed who I am.  I don't want to tell my children the story of how Mommy cried in pain when she finally got in the car after she was inseminated.  And how she felt violated from the pain and the way the doctor ignored mommy's request to have daddy at least in the room.  How I learned that gynecology is a barbaric (and I loosely use the term) science when it comes to respecting the pain in a womans most personal parts. I still want the story I was told of how a baby is made when Mommy and Daddy loved each other sooo much that they made a baby and here you are! 

Dear God Almighty - do not give infertile women advice!!!!!!  I can promise, if a woman has tried to have a baby at any given point without success, then she has obsessed over every website, book, pamphlet, and insane ramble on how to get pregnant.  And followed the advice. And still didn't get pregnant.  By the time she has overcome the sense of failure, guilt, and shame that comes with infertility enough to seek a physicians help, she has tried everything in her power to get pregnant.  She has stood on her head for 30 minutes after sex.  She has eaten crazy foods and taken vitamins, supplements and drank teas.  Asked her husband if he notices if her breasts look different than the day before.  Has checked her cervical mucus, which is exactly as pleasant as it sounds.  She has figured out a thousand ways to make the sex still fun even though infertility can make sex about as fun as eating dry toast.  She has had to ask her husband to masturbate in a bathroom in a hospital into a dry cup, which he does willingly enough but she knows it was uncomfortable and embarrassing for him.  So when someone hears that a woman is trying to get pregnant and someone tells her all she needs to do is relax... well lets just say it makes you want to grin pleasantly and beat the shit out of them at the same time (depending on what day of your cycle it is determines the level of violence).  Or not think about it so hard. Or go on vacation.  Or how it will happen on God's time.  Or adopt- that's such a great reason to adopt too!!!  So that you can conceive!!!  That's so fair to both children!!  And well thought out and responsible!!  Oh yes, and most adoptions cost around 30K.  I know, I know...  People want to help and giving their two cents makes them feel as if they have contributed to your life in some way.  Its uncomfortable for them and they don't know what to say.  Very much like when someone has died close to you.  I would feel bad for them, but most of them feel qualified to give you advice because they already have kids and right now that disqualifies you.

There are so many ways this feels like grief from a death of someone close.  I have the same emotions, and I see the same response in people's faces when I tell them.  I feel as if I am grieving for a life I will never know.  Little people I will never carry, nurse, or get the opportunity to know and love, nurse and discipline, and watch grow into their own lives.  Grieving for the little girl I was that played with baby dolls and fully expected to have a real one of her own when she grew up.  Grieving for the names I have picked out.  The empty rooms in my house that will forever be guest rooms, or "craft" rooms, or some other such bullshit.  Even if I adopt, I will never know what it would be like to have a baby kick in my womb, or have the joy and experience of pregnancy and childbirth.  So I am grieving for that loss.  But, you say, you never know, it could happen next month!!  Sure it could!  But after the disappointment of the last 2 years, lets just say I almost want to grieve and then if it does it will seem more like a miracle.  As the saying goes... Expect the worst, and have no expectations about the best... 

Women who are infertile are not doing it wrong, frigid, tense, or being punished.  We are heartbroken. We are struggling daily to keep a mannequin's smile on our face through birth announcements, pregnancy announcements (and 9 months of complaints and belly rubbing when we would gladly deal with it), ignorant comments, and monthly emotional devastation.  We cry in secret, so no one can know how selfish we really feel about hearing about these things.  We are struggling not to be bitter or resentful, mostly successful, but still a struggle.  We put up with our vaginas being on display while humiliating and painful procedures are performed after months of drugs that cause side effects, emotional ups and downs, and weight gain, and then go back to work and try to act normal.  We monthly go through a list of possible things that we have done for God to punish us in such a way, if we even still believe in God or prayer anymore.  We question our religion.  We question our friendships and our family relationships.  We question our sanity.  We watch our flowers grow, our friends have babies, our animals give birth, and feel isolated from that world.  We don't want advice from people that haven't a clue... we just want to know that even if people don't understand, that they love you and can appreciate that its difficult. 



"It seemed impossible... that this woman, who looked as fertile as the Tennessee valley, should be infertile. But the doctor explained that her insides were a rocky place where my seed could find no purchase"
Raising Arizona

Disclaimer:  This isn't all my emotion.  After communicating with women on several blogs and forums, its a conglomeration of my feelings and all the feelings I have heard and related to.  I am not suffering from any suicidal thoughts or clinical depression.  Its my deepest darkest feelings.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Rural America

There are many things I love about living in a rural setting.  You know your neighbors, even if you have never spoken to them directly.  Its peaceful.  There is the kind of mindset that its your land, and you can do whatever the hell you want on it. You can survive no matter what happens, as long as you are willing to bend your back to a task. In the year since we have bought our 60 acres, I have raised a flock of chickens somewhat successfully, raised a flock of guineas, raised a Jack Russell and an Aussielab pup, and painted/ mildly remodeled my kitchen.  We have cleared part of our land for more pasture for the five horses, and to grow our own hay.  We are not survivalists or part of a religious cult, its all part of the challenge of seeing what you can do yourself.  I am glad that we are going in this direction since the cost of groceries are going up and my pay is not.  My next project this spring is a garden (even if its just tomatoes and green beans) and trying to learn to can this summer and fall. 

One thing that makes us different from a lot of people here is our political beliefs.  My husband is a dyed-in-the-wool democrat, and I would say most of my leanings are there as well, but I have more of an a la carte system where I decide how I feel about each issue and pick the guy that fits that best.  So far the last few years its been democratic.  My husband is a transplanted Yankee, to which many of the "polite" people from the south have shown their famous hospitality! 

I, however, am a southern girl through and through, although I don't wear camoflauge clothing and say "You go girl!" to all my girlfriends, get a fake tan, have big hair.  I enjoy hot southern days ending with the sound of cicadas buzzing while sitting on the front porch, drinking tea, and swatting mosquitos.  I love how southern people can tell you 15 ways to get somewhere and each and every road by number, and have the ability to have an entire conversation around it.  I love how beautiful old ladies look after church in their floral dresses and hats.  I love walking barefoot comfortably in April. I love how little old men will still get up when you come in a room because you are assumed to be a lady.  I like fishing and spending the day on the lake.  I love really good biscuits with butter and brown sugar.  I love that church is still the center of social life (although I am currently not a member anywhere and haven't been to church in over a year).  I am proud of southern people who still go out and try to accomplish things- writers, artists, politicians, doctors, etc.- in the face of much ignorance, poverty, and backward thinking about education.  There are many things to dislike about the south, but I feel like embracing it just the same just because love for where you come from has to be unconditional. 

I tried to be fairly positive on this blog...  We will see where my mood takes me next!