kapachino

Category: infertility

  • more thoughts on second babies

    Meredith as a wee newborn omg.

    I probably started thinking about my second baby while I was still pregnant with Meredith. It’s just the nature of infertility if you want to have more than one, which we do. After the birth my doctor told me to wait 18 months before getting pregnant again if I wanted to give myself the best chance possible to avoid another C-section. At the time I thought it would be a long time to wait and I secretly hoped I’d just turn up pregnant within the year (oops!), but now here we are at almost 16 months out, it’s gone by super fast, and I’m nowhere near pregnant.

    I saw my OB again recently for my annual exam and we talked about trying to conceive. The last time I wrote about getting pregnant again I was conflicted, and to an extent I still am, but I am sensing a change within myself. I think I will be ready soon, but I know that doesn’t mean my body will cooperate. First of all there’s my underlying PCOS, and on top of that there’s the fact that I am still breastfeeding Meredith. It’s only two, maybe three (on the weekends), times a day, but according to my doctor that is enough to make it pretty much impossible to track my cycles. She said if I really want to give myself the best chance at pregnancy (and this is what a fertility specialist would tell me as well), I need to wean.

    I’m just not ready to do that though. Throughout this whole conception/ pregnancy/ birth/ baby thing, breastfeeding is the one aspect of my body that has worked perfectly. I know that I can bond with Meredith in other ways, but it won’t be the same. So I discussed with my doctor what she would recommend once I wean, but in the meantime we are just going to do what we can:

    >Clean up my diet. When I got pregnant before I was pretty much eating gluten free, and I believe that it helped. There is a link between PCOS and insulin resistance that a low glycemic index diet can help overcome. I really need to gear up mentally to eat this way though, because it is hard. Meredith will be 18 months in January and I hope by that time I’ll be ready to make the change.

    >Visit my nutritionist and take her supplements. I’ve been seeing her since before I got pregnant with Meredith and she has helped me get fertile and have a healthy pregnancy. I think she can help me again.

    >Try to track anyway. It might not work, but I figure I can give the daily temperatures a shot, and get some cheap ovulation predictor kits.

    I definitely feel less stressed this time around, and less of an urgency. I still really worry that it won’t happen for us again though, especially when I hear pregnancy announcements of second babies. I always dreamed of a full house, but I never imagined how much work it would take to get there.

  • how infertility changed me

    It’s national infertility awareness week, and before it passes by I felt like acknowledging it because although I am a mother now, I come from a place of infertility.

    I have PCOS, and although ours is not a particularly long story, we did undergo two years of waiting, an unknown future, one horrific miscarriage, many different tests and medications, and in the middle of it all my husband had both of his hips replaced. At the end of the two years I found myself in the therapist’s office struggling with depression that I didn’t want to let out of control.

    Once you deal with infertility, in any form, you are changed.

    In some ways it scarred me. I still carry the sadness, grief, bitterness, and envy inside of me. I still tense up inside when thinking about what it will take to have a second baby. I frequently get sad thinking that Meredith might be my only child, and then immediately feel guilty because so many people would do anything just to have one. I still find myself envious of pregnant women. I still mourn for the baby I lost.

    I think, though, that infertility has made me a better person and a better mother. We ended up conceiving through an IUI, and even though I had some serious discomforts during pregnancy, my main feeling was thankfulness. My daughter is a miracle to me, and I think I do a much better job at appreciating her than I ever would have otherwise. Every time I pick her up, even if I’ve only just put her down, I smile. Every time she learns something new, or smiles, or laughs, I am thrilled. When she cries at night or gets hurt or lonely or scared, I am secretly happy because she needs me to comfort her. I am so honored to be her mother.

    Infertility has also taught me to be dependent on God, to delight in His blessings, and to wait patiently on Him. Strange as though it may sound, if I hadn’t lost my first baby Meredith herself wouldn’t be here, and I can’t imagine the world without her. She came along once David’s hips were healthy and I had a new, more stable job. It was the right time.

    The Year of Suffering, as I call it, actually helped our marriage. We saw each other at our most helpless (mentally, emotionally, and physically), we were there for each other, and we became stronger.

    But you know what? If I had read this while in the midst of everything I probably would have thought: that’s easy for you to say. I get that. But I just wanted to say that I will never forget, I will never pretend that it was easy for us, and I will always be here for anyone who is going through it now.

    This isn’t an infertility blog, but I did write about some of my experiences. You can read about them here.

  • thoughts on second babies

    This is my first baby. She is awesome. She is so awesome that she makes me want to have more babies. But she is also so awesome that I am afraid to have more babies. That’s my thesis statement, and now on to the essay:

    I’ve always wanted more than one kid. When people ask me how many I want I just say that we’ll have one and see how that goes, and if we have another we’ll see how that goes. We’ll figure it out as we go.

    Well we have one now, and it is AMAZING. It’s better than I ever could have hoped. It took us two and a half years to have Meredith, and I would wait ten years for her if I had to.

    It was really hard to wait those years though. When we decided we were ready for a baby, I was READY. It was two years of worry and emptiness and longing, not always in the forefront but always there.

    Maybe this is why I still feel envious when I hear of someone getting pregnant. It’s crazy! I know this! I mean, I have a perfectly healthy baby who is only 7 months old. Because I had a C-section I was told to wait 18 months before getting pregnant again if I want to try a VBAC. But…we had to have medical help to get our baby, and I don’t know what round two will look like – if we’ll need help, or if it will even happen.

    Since Meredith is so great, I’m not scared of having a newborn again. I loved having a newborn. I miss it. I want to have hundreds of babies!

    Except…when I think about having another baby – an actual separate baby that is not Meredith – I get so anxious! What if I don’t love that baby as much? What if that baby isn’t as great as Meredith and I’m always comparing it to her? How can I ever not give Meredith my full attention? Is there any way that I can just have her all over again?

    Anyway. I still want more babies and I will probably always feel some kind of envy when I hear about pregnancies. And yet I probably won’t get over this weird fear of a second baby until I actually have one.

  • take two

    Let me tell you one thing that’s really on my mind these days.

    My husband David and I were finally able to have an IUI in early November. It was two years coming, a rough two years during which we experienced miscarriage, depression, major surgeries, and financial difficulty, but they were also two of the best years of my life because I spent them with David.

    Everyone who deals with infertility has a different experience. I feel extremely blessed that I am able to get pregnant at all, but our journey hasn’t been easy. Although we haven’t had to undergo countless procedures, we have been forced to wait what seems like a long time because of one obstacle or another.

    Two weeks after the procedure we couldn’t stand it any longer and took a home pregnancy test. It was positive. Then we took another one. Positive. I think I was kind of in shock. David was ecstatic, and he kept asking me, “Why aren’t you happy?” Of course I was, and am, happy, but the first thing I felt was scared. My miscarriage was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through, and it’s still fresh on my mind. I really, really, don’t want that to happen again. For the first couple of weeks I noticed that I mostly tried not to think about it at all, because I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

    At the same time, I don’t want to live in fear. And I don’t think it will help the situation at all to be constantly worried. So my intention has been to remain positive, and to think about this pregnancy as being successful. It’s hard some days, but now? At nine weeks, after two successful ultrasounds showing one strong heartbeat?

    I’m excited.

  • doing my best

    I went to the therapist today, by myself. Usually David and I go together. He saw the therapist on his own before we got married and then we started going together. Our visits are billed to his insurance because my mine is extremely restrictive and almost everything is out of network.

    So today, since I was by myself, she billed my visit with a special code called “family without patient,” even though I’ve become the patient. Funny.

    I didn’t make a follow-up appointment, at least not yet. I don’t know what else to say to her right now. I know what my problem is. We’ve had an extremely difficult year, David and I, with too much going on. So I’ve been dealing with those things.

    Some of them are resolving on their own. For example, David is up and around and again, so I no longer have to do all the housework and errands and dog-caring myself. And with him working a lot of the anxiety I had over finances has dissipated.

    Some things I had to change to make myself happy. The biggest thing I did was interview for and accept a new job. Starting November 8th I’ll be transferring to my hospital’s outpatient cancer center, where I’ll be giving chemotherapy, blood transfusions, and the like. This is the sort of job that I get to graduate to since I put in my dues with inpatient. I’ll get every weekend and every holiday off, and hopefully my days will be less hectic and will involve less death and dying.

    (I do want to mention, though, that I have loved the unit that I work on, am grateful for all the experience it gave me, and will miss a lot of people there. But it’s just crazy.)

    I’ve also learned to change a lot of behavior, or at least I’m working on it. I’ve realized that it’s okay to cut myself some slack when it comes to the house being perfectly clean or with exercising every free day I get. And although I’m trying hard to follow my nutritionist’s advice and eat gluten- and dairy-free, I decided that there’s some things I’m just not willing to give up. I’ll just do my best.

    The one thing that I still deal with every single day is infertility. It blows my mind that if I hadn’t have miscarried I’d be a mother now. But I’m not, and I don’t know when I will be. These days, when I experience moments of overwhelming sadness it’s usually related to this.

    But at least it’s an improvement over being sad all the time for no discernible reason at all.