Courage of the courageous

So we went to a lecture last night given by the author of the relatively recently released book Infertility in the Bible. All of us who go through infertility have a unique story to share and have faced challenges specific to our unique situation, but one thing that this lecture proved, and we must continually remind ourselves of, is that we are all courageous individuals. Whether it is the trauma we put ourselves through physically and/or emotionally, whether it is our smiling face for others happiness, or whether it was the ability to just get out of bed on any given morning - we are courageous. However, as the lecturer also pointed out - we do not need to face this alone - even if we are uncomfortable talking with individuals or attending support groups we have the ability to obtain immense levels of support from our matriarchs and patriarchs - how they dealt with infertility and how they dealt with suffering in general. May we all have the courage to continue our battles and see our prayers for children answered.

Kick-Kick

So I've known now for many weeks that there was something growing inside of me. I've gone through the initial stages of elation and gratitude that after the obstacles we faced we are across the street and continuing on the path. However, it was primarily an emotional shift (yes I dealt with some nausea and other limited changes, but nothing so extreme) until now. Now I am receiving a constant reminder that our lives our changing, that soon we will be privileged to have a child in our lives. The continuous movements on the baby remind me of this amazing milestone we are aiming to reach. It is not just about getting clothes that fit, or always feeling hungry, but their is a life there that we will soon be responsible for to protect, provide for and teach. We having been yearning for this opportunity for sometime and the constant kicks serve as a reminder to us that our task is just beginning. This baby is reaching out to us - Knock, Knock - don't forget about me, prepare yourselves and appreciate how incredibly lucky and thankful we are for this upcoming opportunity.

Shifting Roles

We generally become comfortable with our roles and prefer to stay in those roles, but sometimes we are looking for that shift, even though it might not be easy. This is a shift I've been waiting for - going from the infertile woman to the expecting mother-to-be. Its a role we've been spending our emotional strength, money and time working our way towards, and now that we are there how do we navigate. It is important to me that how I got to this point is a part of my identity, a part of who this baby will be. The excitement is there, but I know for many it is not there yet and I don't want to be the expecting mother who reminds them of that constantly. It is another balance I will work towards achieving in my life.

The Phone Call

It's the little things that change your life. Picking a college orientation date where you meet your future husband. Paying a dollar for some random numbers and winning the lottery (no that did not happen to us), or picking up your phone one day and hearing the words congratulations at the other end. Our last cycle led to these results and we are unbelievably joyful to announce the future birth of our first child. The name of this blog is The Empty Womb, and though I am privileged to have mine occupied for another 6, or so, months, the experiences that we have gone through will always be a part of us as we celebrate this milestone. We are extremely grateful for the support provided by family, friends and an amazing medical staff. Most importantly we thank Hashem for "remembering" us and continue to pray that all should be healthy.

Are we there yet?

The age old question that we would always ask our parents when traveling somewhere - Are we there yet? We were impatient, ready to get out of the car, plane or train, anxiously awaiting the next part of our adventure. We didn't comprehend how annoying this was to our parents, because all we knew, at that point, was we didn't want to be in our current location. With infertility you get to play the parent you dream of becoming. You are faced with various forms of the question are we there yet on a regular basis. The passed along comments - I'm surprised they don't have kids yet, haven't they been married long enough. The introductions - its just the two of them with a pause at the end, the general comments of everyone has a kid with the unspoken question why don't you. The hardest part is I'm sure I used to play this game also - the did you here who is pregnant know with the unspoken understanding that others are not, or wondering in surprise whether out-loud or silently what's the deal with this couple or that couple. We take for granted that our journeys will be short and always lead us directly to the great adventure at the end, whether it is a childhood trip to Disney or the welcoming of a baby in your family. However, for many, the road is much longer and fraught with so many more obstacles. We ask ourselves are we there yet and we are asked by others are you there yet. If only we could really see it through our parents eyes and recognize that they were making the best possible decisions they could to share with us a great adventure at the end. If we trusted them maybe our impatience would have been relieved, if we could see the road through there eyes, maybe we would have never questioned. We think we grow out of this habit, however, do we really? We might stop using the words are we there yet but we still look around and question other people's lives, question the road they are on, wondering when they might reach the end. We must strive to remember their road is different than ours, and just hope that everyone reaches there adventure.

Where everybody knows your name

You remember the theme song from Cheers? You know, the bar "where everybody knows your name"? That is what my doctor's office feels like half the time. I walk in and the nurses and doctors all know me - they know when the last time I came in was, they know why I'm coming and and where I am in the cycle. It is really a great feeling that you are around people who are interested in your progress and that you are not just part of a factory of patients seeking care. Though we are leaving the office, we are moving away and will have to find a new place, with hopefully the same attention and care to the patients. I'm sure I'll still go into the next office with the theme song from cheers running through my head.

Popping Buttons

The things we go through when struggling with infertility - most people probably think of the emotional turmoil, the financial ramifications (no big vacation for us) and the many doctor appointments and medications. Me, I think of popping buttons; shirt buttons that is. The joy of fertility medication is the effect it has on your body. For me - one of those includes a "little" swelling on the top part - I can't just pull anything out of my closet to wear, but need to think about the looser clothes - one's without buttons down the middle. Though it is humorous to try on a top you always thought fit you, close the button and have it open itself immediately - luckily I only tried this twice before giving up and realizing that shirt can go in the back of the closet now. The emotional, financial and intimate relationship with the appointment desk at the doctor's office are all still there - though we've added the popping buttons - the need to provide some lighthearted amusement to the whole process seems to be built in for our enjoyment - maybe I will try on another button down shirt tomorrow...

Gambling for Treatment

So within about a 15 minute drive of the Las Vegas strip there are 4 different fertility clinics. How do I know this you might ask? I was privileged enough to visit one of these "fine" institutions while in Vegas for a conference - yes, fertility treatment does not stop for anything. So it took calling 3 of the clinics before I could find one that would see an out-of-town patient, and apparently they assumed I was going to go gambling first so I could afford a visit to their office. Though that only would have worked at the $5 black jack table if I won every hand for a couple of hours. Amazing the Vegas office was twice as much as my DC office - and made me wait even longer. There was one thing I noticed that was very interesting. In DC I am usually the youngest looking patient in the office. In Vegas, I seemed to fit right in - whether people on the west coast just look younger or the multitude of wedding chapels gets people thinking about infertility at a younger age - I couldn't tell you - but in an odd way I felt a little more comfortable sitting in their waiting room (that was of course until I got the bill). The bottom line is, in dealing with infertility treatment the end result might be a gamble, but the treatment we never gamble with. Many people may be able to relate to the emotional side of infertility, but what they don't get is how it so controls every aspect of your life. I couldn't stop seeing a doctor for ever a couple of days, I checked in with the TSA about how to bring my needles and medication on the plane, I always have to make sure when it is time to give myself my shot I am with my medication, supplies and supposedly in a convenient place to do it - though I was privileged to give myself a shot on a turbulent plane. I refuse to gamble for treatment, besides the economic impact, the chance that there is something in my power to do - I must push full forward. The result is not up to me and I recognize that gamble and the payoff for winning...that's is something I would gamble all my money for.

I Love my Target Pharmacist

So there are many things one comes to realize while going through infertility treatment - for me, one is that I love my Target pharmacist. We've been using the same pharmacy for more than two years, and though initially I didn't realize just how great my pharmacist is - I definitely do now. So what makes him so special you might ask. He cares. Many times we feel like we are going at this alone, even with seeing the doctors and nurses and talking to friends - those relationships are so tied up with other issues/committments that it doesn't always come across as the support that we sometimes crave. But our pharmacist, he has nothing to gain, yet he is sensitive and caring to what we are going through. He wishes us luck when we pick-up our next cycle of medication and most recently is holding our medication for us in the hope we are able to start another cycle - no questions, just sensitivity and support. It's a weird place to find comfort, but after hearing bad news from your doctor or the excitement of being able to try it's nice to know there is a friendly, caring guy thinking about not just my medicine, but us.

Ultimatum to G-D

So apparently I was supposed to fast today - the Shelah Hakodesh, a 16th century Kabbalist wrote a prayer for parents to say for/on behalf of their children. Well, today, on the eve of the month of Sivan is the ideal time to say the prayer. Why you might ask? In under a week us Jews will celebrate the anniversary of the giving of the Torah - at this point the Jews where likened to G-d's children, G-d playing both the role of mother and father at various times. As we begin this month and recognize our own birth as a people it a chance for us to ask for that role or to thank G-d for the children he has already given us. So one line in the prayer stood out - "My eyes dependently look toward you until you will be gracious to me and hear my please and grant me sons and daughters." So there is the ultimatum G-d - you are going to have to put up with me until we have more than a two person family. Therefore, if you don't want to listen to me complaining, pleading, with my eyes on you - you know what to do.

Pineaple Candies - The newest miracle drug

Newsflash! Have you heard? The latest infertility medical drug has just been released - and you'd never guess what it is - pineapple candies! So, you are probably wondering what medical journal I found this in and what pharmacy is willing to fill a prescription for this miracle drug. It's from the Israeli Journal of Segulas - never heard of it? - let me tell you all about it. We Jews like omens and symbols. We'll drink the wine after a bride and groom in hope of finding our own mate, we'll change someone's name if they get sick to include words meaning life and healing and we eat pineapple candies. We recently "came out" and have been open about the struggle with infertility we are going through. So my mom told one of her good friends who also dealt with infertility many years ago and remained active in the advocacy area. The story is there is a grocery store in Israel that apparently has a chair inside of it and anyone who has sat in the chair has merited to have a child. The problem is we are in Maryland and the chair is in Israel. The solution - buy pineapple candies from the store and they substitute for sitting in the chair. So my mom's friend sent me 12 pineapple candies - not a bad dosage. The tough question now is - when to eat them?

Who keeps putting bricks on the wall

So we have the saying we feel like we are up against a wall - well somehow our wall keeps on growing taller. Everytime we think we might be on the right track, working towards starting our family, someone lays another brick. We've faced a myriad of problems with the insurance, canceled cycles, incompatible medicines (got to love that - one works great and the other just prevents anything good from happening), delayed trains that make you completely miss your appointment (by almost 2 hours), timing that just doesn't work because of Shabbat or Yom Tov, the outrageous cost of medications, the emotional battle and so much more, but I think we get the idea. And the latest - we decide that no matter what the cost we are going to try at least once more before going to Israel for the year, knowing crazily that if it works we are on our own - but now that can't happen because another cycle got canceled, and maybe not just this one, but our chances for trying for the next couple of months - residual affects of the last medication have screwed with the body. So the wall keeps getting higher and we are stuck on the wrong side without a ladder or a sledgehammer or anything to take the wall down and we don't know how to find our way over. Some will say prayer and mizvot are the answers and maybe they are helping, maybe it is slowing the rate of the builders of the wall - but the wall is still there and we're still stuck on the wroong side.

Insensitivity Abounds

Why do people feel the need to point out to you that you don't have kids yet? I know that very well, thank you very much. Yet certain acquaintances of ours feel the need to mention this fact to us every time we see them and the problem is they are just acquaintances. We have begun telling a lot of our closer friends, but how do you tell an acquaintance - "hey, by the way please don't remind me that I don't have kids - I've been trying for almost 2 years." I don't need to be continually reminded that there are people my age in the community who are on number 2 or 3. I don't need the topic of conversation at every social event to be who is expecting, how everyone is feeling and how many of their clothes they have grown out of. I know I was probably like some of those people before, not realizing how insensitive and stupid things we say are and it is a trait I am definitely working hard to overcome, whether it is about having children, jobs, religious practices or anything else. I am trying to come up with a response that I can share with the random insensitive comments we receive, but so far nothing. And the most frusterating thing is I feel like I am starting to avoid situations where I feel like this will come up - and that is just annoying. I feel like I want to be on this mission now to awaken people to their actions, but at the same time I don't want to be the one everyone feels bad for and stops talking while in the room - so I just avoid at the moment, which I know is not healthy, but what else can I do?

Where has the doctor gone?

So we are taking a month off from treatment. Between traveling for almost 2 weeks for Pesach and insurance issues we are forced to take a break. You don't realize until you stop going to the doctor how integral to your life it has become. Waking up over an hour earlier on a regular basis to make sure you get to the doctor before work, showing up at work late because the doctor was running behind - it becomes part of your schedule and habit. I am at a lost of what to do with myself when I am not keeping track of which arm they should prick so I don't have black and blue marks all over. I'm not spending my morning anxiously waiting for a call from my nurse letting me know what the next step is, trying to be productive at work but not always succeeding.

It is such a change from how you imagine married life. Growing up in an orthodox home sexuality was not really discussed much in the home or at school. You get the basics eventually, but mostly it is a taboo topic, whispered on the side if spoken at all. I've become so desensitized to that - sexuality has become a regular topic of conversation with the doctors, nurses, rabbis and even between myself and my spouse. It has become a condition, an issue you must treat. I've learned so much about the female body (and the male's) in our journey through infertility, information that I definitely feel I would have benefited from knowing earlier. We are the most important advocate for ourselves, and we must arm ourselves with as much information as possible. Even when you are not in the midst of a treatment cycle, we must continue to learn about the obstacles we are facing. I am fortunate that I have found a practice that I feel comfortable with, I have a nurse who is always responsive to my questions. However, where has the doctor gone? In some ways there is a piece of that role in me. I would never assume to know what is the best treatment or what dosage to take, but I do know how it makes me feel, I do know the side effects I might experience and the emotional strain my body is enduring.

But, we are taking a break - the doctor is still in their office, hopefully sharing the happy news with some couple that their cycle was a success. But for us, for the moment, we have left the doctor at their office. We will hopefully return after Pesach (insurance issues permitting), but for now we will just be - no doctor visits, blood samples to give or shots to take. Though it might seem like an ideal situation, in all honestly I miss the doctor, I miss feeling that I am trying to do something, trying to bring us closer to having a family.

Flowers and Fertility

Our jewish belief tells us that are names become a part of us, signify who we are and speak back to the heritage we came from. We look to the biblical stories to learn about the traits we can emulate, the people we can become. I have the middle name Rachel - our matriarch who stood by her husband while his other wife and two concubines had children, but Rachel had none. The torah states that Rachel was jealous of her sister. Upon further examination it appears that she was jealous of the characteristics and merits her sister must have that allowed her to have so many children. Rachel understood that the ability to conceive and carry a baby to term are not just about a sperm and an egg meeting, but about a miraculous gift that God gives us. It has taken me some time to come to this realization, and it is a battle that I still struggle with.

I think my first IUI did it for me though - multiple eggs, the right number of sperm and a nice thick lining - but the day of my pregnancy test yielded a no. Medically, all seemed to be going well, but there is another step that needs to occur, that we can't control - the miracle of every aspect coming together - its not just the measurable numbers. Rachel was jealous of whatever "it" was that allowed the miracle to occur for her sister and not for her. I look at other people and I am happy for them that they have been blessed with children in their lives - but at the same time there is that tinge of jealousy - why don't we deserve the miracle of conception - what don't we know that is preventing us from having a family?

The problem is you start to ask yourselves these questions and it leads you down a dangerous path. Rachel at points was grasping for straws - she gave away a night with her husband for dudaim - a flower that supposedly promoted fertility; she screamed at her husband, 'if you don't give me children, it is like I am dead." But where did that lead her? What did she learn about her life that she didn't already know? How can you live second guessing every action you make? Maybe if I am just nicer, pray more, keep more mitzvot, do more acts of kindness...but where does it stop? Where do you stop questioning your life and start living it? I catch myself sometimes thinking about what could be, how my life could be different if I had that "it", what does everyone else around me have that I don't, but that doesn't get me anywhere besides feeling down and empty. For whatever reason my husband and I are not pregnant, nor have a child already. I keep the hope that one day we will have that "it" we will witness the miracle of conception not through family and friends, but with the beginning of our own family. Rachel did have a child and I hope that at least that part of her story becomes my own.

Did we leave Egypt yet?

Soon Pesach will be upon us, we'll go home to our parent's house, eat matzah for eight days and be surrounded by family. But how do you deal with family when you are the only one without kids? One sister has three, another with five (though they won't be joining us) and a brother with one - who happened to get married a full year after my husband and I.
Do you ever get the belly look from people after they ask you how long have you been married? 3 years you answer them - the follow-up question - do you have any kids? and the moment you say no there the eyes go right down to the belly to check for a bulge. And then there is shul - you go to shul and low and behold what is going on, did you miss the notice? It is the grandchild parade - every Bubbe and Zaide coming in to show off their finest nachas (the grandkids that is) and you are just sitting their davening. We say in the hagadah - in every generation each person is responsible to see themselves as if they left Egypt - I think it will be a little easier this year. The significance of leaving Egypt was gaining a level of personal freedom, yes we follow the Torah and its laws, but we are not oppressed. To me, oppression is the feeling of being trapped within yourself - you don't have someone to confide in, you have no where to belong. That is what infertility feels like, you are the one left with nothing to contribute to the conversation while everyone talks about which ob/gyn they are using, when they are going to take birthing classes or how much weight their baby has gained. Who do you confide in when all the other Bubbe's in the shul are looking at your mom wondering why her children aren't giving her the nachas of a grandchild? Pesach will be a trying time, pasting on the happy smile for all the family and social settings - I think I'll be able to sit at the Seder next week and have a little bit more of an appreciation for what our ancestors endured - my burden may not be the same physical labor as they experienced, but it is a great burden nonetheless.

Everyone is Pregnant

Did you ever enter a room, look around and notice that everyone is pregnant or holding a kid? It hit me this week as I participated in a brit milah; my husband and I were asked to carry in the baby for the ceremony - it was a decision we took some time making - our friends had the baby Saturday and they happen to be are only friends in our community who know about our struggles with infertility - Monday we learned that our IUI did not work - it was a rough day, wanting to be happy and excited for our closest friends, but knowing that you spent another month hoping, praying, waiting, examining your body to see if everything was changing, second guessing if you were feeling queasy because you were reading on the train or your hormones were acting up. That same day our mailbox yielded our Resolve magazine. One article in particular caught my attention - the author discussed the need for couples dealing with infertility to be open and honest about what we are going through - keeping it a secret alludes to a level of shame we attribute to what we are going through and this prevents us from receiving support and sensitivity from those around us. So we decided to take the plunge, we were going to carry the baby in, an honor generally reserved as a segulah for those having difficulty conceiving as a merit for them to have a child. We thought this might be a way to come out in the open, but not have to approach everyone and say, "hey, we are going through infertility treatment." Except it didn't work, those who caught on were so busy talking about their own pregnancies that they didn't even realize what had just happened. Plus, there were all the people who didn't even see. So instead we spent the weekend surrounding by bulging tummies and friends discussing their number of trips to the bathroom throughout the night and how much their belly moves. It really hit me over the weekend that almost everyone we know, all our friends and acquaintances are expecting or already have kids. Where does that leave us?