Infertile might be one of the worst words I know. Whether you’re referring to soil or to a person, infertile doesn’t describe a place where goodness is occurring. Some folks don’t mind labels, thinking “Well, if the shoes fits…” But my soul won’t allow me to work with the word infertile. In fact, being unproductive in any way is not something I want to embrace. So, infertile? Forget it.
Perhaps I’m only playing word games, but guess what? This is my blog and I can do what I want to here. Bear with me because I’m going to write about fertility. Some of you at this point might want to avert your eyes because the very thought of blogging about fertility makes you cringe. And that’s totally fine, too.
Jeremy and I have been married almost 13 years. We have one daughter who might at first glance (and second and third) look like she’s the fruit of our loins. But she’s not genetically ours; we adopted Livia at 7 weeks old. When I was a kid, my parents talked about both fostering and adopting, so I think my heart was prepared for adoption early. I always wanted to adopt, and not just after I had my “own” kids (don’t ever say that to me, by the way—Livia is my own). After Jeremy and I finished college and seminary, we moved back home to Nebraska and, within a year, began the adoption process. A lot went into our decision to adopt, but fertility never played a role.
We threw caution—and birth control—to the wind when Liv was one and just waited to see what happened. When we didn’t conceive within a year, I figured we wouldn’t be able to get pregnant. But I was only 27, I wasn’t hugely concerned, and I knew that between fertility treatments and adoption we’d be able to have more children easily. (Cough cough, some of you may now laugh at my naïveté.) A funny thing happened in the fall of ’06: I got pregnant.
Joy! Happiness! Blessing! God’s timing! God’s blessing! He smiled upon us!
For several weeks we lived as an almost-family-of-four and I contentedly carried a little life in my womb. We heard a heartbeat. It was beautiful. And then, it was over.
A fast and wrenching cramp nearly keeled me over in Target. I went home and the spotting began. And there was absolutely nothing I could do to keep that little life within me. It was the first time I’d felt an utter loss of control related to fertility, but definitely not the last.
Joy? Happiness? Blessing? God’s timing? God’s blessing? He smiled upon us? I don’t think so.
My pregnancy ultrasounds revealed giant ovarian cysts which, crazily enough, would have required surgery around 18 weeks gestation for removal. Since I miscarried, I ended up having surgery a few months later and this is how we discovered endometriosis. Going into surgery I thought I might have ovarian cancer, so the endometriosis diagnosis was no sweat. It was small potatoes, really.
To this day, I just don’t care much about endometriosis. When you have other major autoimmune disorders, you tell the endometriosis to fall in line and it will be dealt with in order of importance. Day to day, it’s not a concern. Month to month is a different story, however.
A lot of months have passed between losing that baby and now. Over 48, if we’re looking for a number. All of those months have included Jeremy and I being open to adopting more children. In fact, for most of the past five years, we have pursued word-of-mouth adoption and followed every lead, every potential adoption situation. A few of those 48+ months included fertility testing and fertility treatments. Many of those months included emails, prayer requests and support group meetings to deal with the frustrating reality of my fertility.
People don’t really talk about fertility. It makes us uncomfortable. It’s awkward. We like to say things like, “I just look at my wife and she gets pregnant” so we can laugh a little and go back to the odd-yet-comfortable pattern of saying nothing about infertility. But the reality is the infertility involves grief and loss. By its very nature, infertility is uncomfortable and sad. It sucks. But that is life, and just ignoring the issue doesn’t make it any less real. Staying silent about it won’t solve any problems and it won’t fix matters of fertility or of the heart. It’s a real issue, of real concern, to more men and women than you might imagine.
If you’re struggling with fertility issues yourself, how do you keep on keeping on? What do you think about Joy! Happiness! Blessing! God’s timing! God’s blessing! He smiled upon us! when you’re not getting pregnant? And if you’re not dealing with this topic yourself, how do you support your friends who are?
Stay tuned. I’ve got more to say.
[If you have more to say, too, and you want to talk or ask questions, give me a holler. My email address is listed on the Contact Us page.]
21 Comments
andy Feb 22, 2011 9:43 AM
Thanks RT. We hears ya.
Bethany Feb 22, 2011 10:10 AM
Really, really good honest post, RT. Please keep writing.
Lindsey Feb 22, 2011 10:13 AM
Thanks for sharing that, Rebecca. I’ve not struggled with this, though as I get older and I have an increasing number of friends and acquaintances going through the process of pregnancy, trying to get pregnant, miscarriage, birth, adoption, etc., I’m trying to listen. And hear what they’re saying, with the hopes that as time goes on, I’ll learn to say fewer bumbling words of attempted comfort, express true sympathy, and be able to share in the joys and sorrows. I appreciate your honesty.
Jake Meador Feb 22, 2011 10:18 AM
Brave post. Thanks for writing.
Holly Feb 22, 2011 10:23 AM
Rebecca, thanks so much for sharing a little part of the Tredways journey.
katiek Feb 22, 2011 10:41 AM
It doesn’t bother me at all that you write about this. I admit I do not know what to say sometimes. I know I am blessed and I know God gives good gifts. I look forward to your exploration and honesty. Because I do want to know what to say and know how to pray.
Joc Feb 22, 2011 11:15 AM
I can’t even tell you how awesome it is that you’re writing about this! As I’m sure you’ve figured, I know about all the grief and heartache and loneliness that surrounds infertility. It’s a walk of faith every day and sometimes every hour…Why is it so hard to talk about? Keep writing. Maybe one day I’ll chime in too:)
Kerri Feb 22, 2011 11:30 AM
We are listening. Keep writing.
happygirl Feb 22, 2011 11:34 AM
Thank you for sharing your story. I had 2 miscarriages after birthing my son. I always thought I’d have a large family, but it was not to be. God bless you and your family.
Jen Feb 22, 2011 12:21 PM
Thanks, Rebecca. I have learned much from you, and will keep learning. And praying.
Sarah B. Feb 22, 2011 12:42 PM
Well put, dear friend. I think I’m going to post this on my business page. One cannot talk about all the joys of pregnancy/birth without also talking about the reality of fertility problems, miscarriage, stillbirth, pain, grief, loss, sorrow, etc, etc, etc. They are all deeply intertwined.
Love you!! :)
Jamie Feb 22, 2011 1:03 PM
Thank you for sharing your heart Rebecca! My joy, blessings and smiles from God be upon you even among the grief and sadness and pain.
Charliegirl Feb 22, 2011 2:23 PM
thanks for having the grace to share this…hard to read. not because you shouldn’t be talking about it–you absolutely should be. it’s an issue too widespread to be kept quiet.
Bri Feb 22, 2011 4:08 PM
I often ask the same question. How do people keep on? I wrote a blog post recently about our most recent miscarriage (3rd). It’s been the hardest thing in my life.
http://brihoopes.blogspot.com/2011/01/never-had-more-faith-been-had.html
Aubrey Feb 22, 2011 7:33 PM
Right on. Right on. I can’t say much else. Now that Judah is approaching one, I’m finding all the same feelings of inadequacy and anxiety returning each time my cycle does. I want to be different. I want not to worry and stress and count days. But I’m having a very hard time not doing those same things I did for months before we were finally able to get pregnant. Sigh.
You are right. Infertility Sucks.
Aubrey Feb 22, 2011 7:38 PM
Oh and I also meant to say that for months I had this awful secret and felt like I couldn’t tell anyone we were having problems getting pregnant. I was so ashamed. Why? This was not something in my control. We need more Christians talking about it.
Marc, Sr Feb 22, 2011 9:30 PM
Great post. Thanks.
tasha Feb 24, 2011 7:16 PM
and dear friend once again i’m left bawling…..God gives and takes away and we’ll never understand why….
Rebecca Feb 24, 2011 8:46 PM
Thanks for reading this and for leaving encouraging comments. A lot of thoughts are swirling around in my head and I’d like to write more on the topic soon. Writing about fertility is quite exposing–so again, thanks for being so great.
Kathryn Mar 4, 2011 3:03 PM
This post really resonated with me, and I truly look forward to future posts… but perhaps not for the reasons one would guess. My husband and I have been blessed with 3 easy conceptions, 3 healthy pregnancies, 3 full term babies… While I thank the Lord for his graciousness in giving us children, I often struggle with guilt over it. Crazy, but true. I ask, why me? why was it so easy and effortless for me? when so many friends struggle endlessly? I also wonder, what do I say to friends who cannot conceive or have just experienced their 3rd miscarriage? How do I respond? I so easily take for granted something that I did not merit or deserve and deeply struggle over how to be properly thankful without causing heartache or pain to an infertile friend. As you said, it’s not a topic that is talked about. We keep it shielded and shadowed and just move on in our awkwardness. Thank you for opening your heart to us all. I look forward to reading more.
Jamie Mar 9, 2011 8:31 AM
catching up on my reading, wishing i’d read this sooner! wow, exposing your heart in a post like this. its good to read your thoughts and where you are coming from. i have never known how to approach the subject of infertility, so i look forward to hearing some of the other thoughts swirling around in your head. i have assumed the ache from it grows and wanes month to month, but doesn’t die out — how can friends encourage in this? i haven’t known how and hope you can shed some light as you work through things.. much love, friend.