Although I have been loving sharing more emotional writing and demonstrating the everyday live of a couple dealing with infertility, I have yet to share our actual story. Here is the first part in a 3 part trilogy. If you were curious about the hard facts and details of our «journey» (gross word I know...) then here it is! I had always assumed that I would have «problems» conceiving, although my idea of problems were nothing compared to what I am experiencing. Always having an irregular cycle, there was no way this would be a walk in the park. I didn't know that I had PCOS, but imagine how much less painful this process would be if I did know! Alas, we can't turn back time, but please talk about your periods with EVERYONE. Okay, maybe not, but talking about them will hopefully bring awareness to PCOS and might help get girls and women diagnosed before they start trying to conceive. Blah, blah, blah, after over 6 months of trying, I fast tracked my way to an appointment with a gyno in the city. Fast tracked = I lied to my family Dr. I know... how dare I! To be honest, my experience with older male family physicians (I am sorry if you are offended but this is my actual experience...) is that when it comes to female reproductive issues : one, they don't want to deal with it so they refer you else where, or two, they minimize your issues and tell you something like: «this happens to some women» but don't do anything to help. I have experienced the later so many times that I really wanted just to be referred. So, as expected, my family physician, gave me the following advice even KNOWING my symptoms of what is now diagnosed as PCOS: 1- relax 2- take a trip However, I am happy that he did do two important and helpful things: 1- Prescribe me Clomid (a medication that helps regulate ovulation) 2- Order a series of «basic» tests such as: day 3 bloodwork, day 5 bloodwork, semen analysis tests, ultrasound of uterus and ovaries, male reproductive system ultrasounds. 3- told me to come back The lie lays in the timeline, for someone my age, they usually want couples to «try» for a full year before going any further with investigation or treatment. Although I usually am a rule follower, I KNEW that this was a rule I needed to break. Almost three years after this moment, I am happy I did and I am happy I followed my gut. I cut myself some slack on this one because after being off of birth control for 7 years, and never once getting pregnant...something had to be wrong. I was then referred to a gynaecologist in Edmonton. He ordered some of the same tests, but also added in others. The amazing HSG test. The test that feels like they are injecting liquid fire into your uterus. For this test, I went to the hospital in the radiology department. They inject a liquid while under an xray so they can see and track the liquid going into my uterus and fallopian tubes (btw I have never been a winner at biology so please excuse the crude non scientific details). Their main goal is to rule out any blockages. For some women this test is not any more uncomfortable than a regular pap, but some others, like me, it really is the most painful experience. I drove myself in at an early hour, then there I was laying on the cold slab of a metal table for an hour while I teetered on the edge of loosing consciousness.... and because I am so lucky, I got to do it twice! During the first test, they were unable to determine if my right tube was open so we scheduled another one 6 months later to double check. Again, fire water, then I had to drive myself home as though nothing happened. I remember crying most of my 2 and a half hour drive home. The mixture of pain, the exhaustion and the fact that this was my new reality really hit home. One of the last of the important tests was the uterine biopsy to cross of the chances of various cancers that would effect fertility. I will circle back on this test during the second part of my trilogy. Everything being clear, there was nothing that my gyno seemed to think was at the root of my infertility (again, no mention of PCOS). Instead of Clomid, which was not helping ovulation, I was prescribed Letrozole a drug usually given to cancer patients. Because I was not a cancer patient, insurance companies does not cover the medication, so the cost is on me (this will be a theme in this story...). Then, more trying, more waiting....more nothing. After six months, an unexplained infertility diagnosis, and I was referred to a fertility clinic in Edmonton, at the Royal Alexandra Hospital. In my last follow up with my gyno, the fact that conceiving was going to be more than just a challenge, that my life will CHANGE and is changing because real, and hearing someone say that was difficult. "Is this something you want? Because, you will have to make the decision to seek treatment at a fertility clinic. If you are ready for that, then I will refer you, but this wont be easy." I was hit with mixed feelings: sadness mainly, but also the positive feeling of moving to a step that could actually DO something. The inaction, the inability to control what was happening to us was wearing me down. Knowing there was something else that could be done, although I wish I didn't have to do it, was calming. "There are people who can help. There is a way." These thoughts prevailed as I assented to my gyno, through teary eyes, to refer me to the fertility clinic.
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These pictures are so important to me. Look at them, please, and join me in appreciating the mothers that surround me in my life. My friends, my family are, or will be, such amazing mothers, in all senses of the word. For me, that means providing a safe and caring home, fostering creativity, encouraging courageousness and self actualization, love and kindness. Mothers who have or will help their children learn, fail and keep trying. Mother's Day recognizes these giant every day successes they make that otherwise go unnoticed. It IS important to have this day and recognize all types of mothers that exist. Also to recognize the various types of pain associated to this day. Amongst the women you see, there are mothers who have lost mothers, mothers who have suffered miscarriages, mothers who have lost children- this day is difficult for many people. It is also why I chose to only post this at the end of M Day; I do not want to take away from other's joy and other's pain, they are valid. I want to love and celebrate the women you see above. Here lies the double edged sword I feel at my throat: Mother's Day is one of my worst days of the year. I hate it. I want nothing to do with it. So there. Mother's Day and infertility is like showing up at a costume party with no costume on. You open the door, and like in a movie, the music stops, people stare. "Hey, where's your costume?" The same question over, and over and over...Only, the question is, "Do you have kids?" or "When are you going to have kids?". This is the song that never ends, and it will go on and on my friends... I sing this to my self after many such interactions because it really is never ending. Oh, and annoying. Loving posts showing smiling children hugging their mothers with handmade cards, flowers from husbands, brunches with grandparents. All of it special, and important, yes. To me, they are flashes of what my life should be, but isn't. Every single mention of the world Mother's Day on t.v, radio, in ads, billboards, signs, cards (I could go on), is a jab in the heart. I am in a constant tug of war with my emotions because while I appreciate the mother's in my life, while I want to shower them with love, I really just want to disconnect from the world and pretend as though it doesn't exsist. For me this is a day of grieving, a day that reminds me what I have lost and what I do not have. Many studies show that women and men who are going through infertility suffer the same effects of grief as someone who has lost a loved one, even without having experienced a miscarriage. From experience and from what others in have said, this grief often comes in short cycles, every month or few months and every time we see yet another negative pregnancy test. Every month for the last 2 1/2 years, I have felt loss of all kinds. Loss of a potential child, loss of control, loss of motherhood, loss of the body I used to have, loss of experiences, loss of what I thought my life would be. M Day, is a moment that brings all of these feelings crashing together. I wrote a short story, that I have debated posting on my blog, over a year ago. In that story I liken infertility to drowning while everyone is watching, smiling. Intense metaphor, yes....but truthful. What is the most difficult for me is often the messages society continues to attach to M Day. While I understand the sentiment, I believe that these messages are not positive for anyone, infertile or not. I've collected these problematic messages for you: - "Only a mother knows a mother's fondness" -"The only love I believe in is a mother's love" -"No one loves like a mother" -"You have no purpose until you have become a mother" -"Life does not begin until you are a mother" - "Becoming a mother is the greatest thing I will ever do" and so on... While I completely understand the spirit of these quotes, they really do nothing to help mothers or anyone else who may not be a mother. Like mother's really needs to hear, again, how their entire identity is wrapped up in their children and are serving no other purpose. Like those who have chosen not to have children need to hear, again, how they have chosen not love and not to have a "complete life". Like those of us with infertility need to hear, again, how we are failing and that our "life will not begin" or might never "begin" because we can't be mothers no matter how hard we try. Did you know that most women dealing with infertility avoid going out in public on this day? I did. Except that I had to run to the store because, as usual, I forgot something on my list. I walked through the isles hurriedly, not making eye contact. Even with this technique, I was wished "Happy Mother's Day!" three times. Every single time, was painful and awkward. I should say: I suffer from infertility, I don't have any children...but I couldn't. I smiled (I think) and said "Thanks!". It does help me to think of the important mothers in my life, it gives me joy to know that they feel appreciated and loved. However, please be kind to yourself my fellow infertility sisters, remember that YOU ARE ENOUGH. You love as deeply as anyone else, and you are worth just as much. Hug those animals in your life because, as much as people like to joke, they are our babies and without them I am not sure how I could get through this without their love. To those with friends or family dealing with infertility, we do not ask you to stop posting those cute pictures, we do not ask you stop gushing about your children. Perhaps what I am asking is think about the way you are framing your statements: is it doing justice to yourself as an individual, others who have a different situation than yours? More importantly however, have in your thoughts those people who are not as lucky as you are, truly appreciate what you have. Maybe send them a message or just give them a hug. As always, love is always the answer, and making sure they know it is even more important on these types of days. Articles: Grieving and Growing by Beth Jaeger-Skigen (RESOLVE) - https://goo.gl/FA9EsG Infertility and Mother's Day Coping Strategies by Fertility Authority- https://goo.gl/MR9b8D For some of you, my «coming out» post may have been a surprise you weren't expecting. Or, maybe, you had your suspicions and it just confirmed them. Maybe, it may not have been fun or pleasant to hear my news. I am not here to apologize for it, but to tell you that I understand your various reactions, and perhaps to offer some clarity.
I know how it feels to hear the pain and the struggle a friend goes through, months or years later. Or finding out really good news second hand from someone you know your bestie is not close with. It feels like a betrayal, like you are not good enough to to be given this important information. I also know, that there are reasons why people don’t speak of such important things. The reasons why are not always good, nor are they always bad, but there are reasons. Sometimes you don’t want to hurt someone so you think that keeping this information to yourself would be better. Other times, you are too embarrassed to talk about it; you wish it had never happened so you don’t plan on keeping it’s memory alive by speaking it into the universe. Sometimes it is because you are afraid of what others will think or how others will judge you. Maybe, even, it is just too painful to talk about. It is easier to keep it a secret, because they can not find the words to explain even if they wanted to. People are complicated and secrets even more so. I have kept my secret for all the reasons above. I didn’t want to burden others with my problems, especially while others have their own struggles. I am embarrassed by my body and it’s lack of functionality. The inability to do what I am biologically made to do, is embarrassing. Now, I know logically, that this makes no sense. Why be embarrassed by a medical issue? First, society has still chosen to keep the female reproductive system as something to giggle about, something that somehow is still considered a mystery. Secondly, society can not disassociate women from their maternal roles. Women = mothers. Women = wombs. This in it's self is a huge field of research in Sociology, History, Law, Psychology and Women's Studies just to name a few. The conversation around the questions "what is a woman" or "what is a mother" are still very necessary. Even for mothers not dealing with infertility, this is a huge hurdle when trying to construct their identity while fulfilling their parental role. Imagine trying to construct an identity that is just not accepted. Once, when I answered (for the one millionth time...) that no, I don't have any children, the person responded: "But you're a teacher! You have to have kids!". My identity is doubly labeled: I am a woman so I must want/need/have children, and I am a teacher so my skills and ability are linked to my motherhood. In my case, I fit none of these formulas and society just cant compute. Those with infertility, are often pushed to the outside of society. Life in North America at least, is built around the family unit that is : parents + children. If you don't fit that mould (yes there are many other examples of people who don't fit that mould but here I am addressing my experiences), there is a sense of embarrassment that follows. I am afraid that people will treat me differently, whisper behind my back “oh.. yea... she can’t have kids, did you know that? yea, so sad.” I don’t want them to think that I am broken, no good and defective. Because, guess what...people do. Lastly, the main reason, is the pain. I have never been good at expressing myself with the spoken word, I clam up, I shut down. People will try to pry it out, but when I struggle, I struggle in the dark. Why would this be any different? A subject that society wont even touch? Yea, I’m keeping those cards right close to my chest. While in the thick of treatments, I was unable to make it through a day without breaking down. I had a hard time putting regular, day to day thoughts together, or having the energy to make it to the grocery store. Here it is. Finally, the truth. Every dark, mean, painful, funny moment of it. “Isn’t this going to be worse, writing a blog for everyone to read?” Oh, yea, it might be worse, but the difference is that I am now ready. I have been on a break between treatments and it has given me the time to repair. Finally, I am able to mentally and emotionally, to talk. I have been constantly working on myself and this moment felt like the right moment. I have been covering the windows and tying down furniture for a storm. To be honest, so far, that storm hasn't hit. It gives me the hope that people are at their core understanding and loving. If you were one of those still trying to navigate through your confusing emotions regarding my secrets and their revelation, I understand. Know that my secrets were about me, not you. Thank you all for showing me that sometimes the storm is in my head and for proving that speaking about things that make us uncomfortable are sometimes the most important conversations to have. Band-aid off. |
Author:Sara Collins has always had a passion for writing. Writing song lyrics for the Backstreet Boys, Short Stories, Poetry, and big chunks of half finished novels. Now she is proud to share her writing around her experiences in infertility. Archives |