The Telling

When we decided to tell our news freely after 13 weeks, I didn't realize the first trimester actually goes until 14 weeks, but we stayed with the plan because our ultrasound during week 12 went well.

Unexpectedly, telling has been a bag of mixed emotions and thoughts. I had imagined it as pure joy. I realize now that I had imagined it as if I had conceived naturally in a normal amount of time -- as if this were a normal pregnancy announcement. Isn't that funny?

Some peoples' reactions made me laugh -- the woman at work who burst out laughing and was so excited for me, and then told me that she had suspected as much a month or more ago when I looked particularly green. Some people cried, including the woman at church who got pregnant when we did last year but went on to have a baby instead of a miscarriage, like we did. I decided that was her relief from the guilt.

When someone -- a guy, no less -- blurted out, "It worked!" in front of people who knew nothing of our IF treatments, I wanted to smack him. I gently told him later that we aren't telling everyone about our IVF because someday we need to tell the kids how they came into the world and it might be best if everyone they know doesn't already know this. I think he got the message.

However, in some situations, I have found that along with saying "we are expecting" comes a a great urge to explain how we came to this point. For three years, I've largely held in all the difficulty we've had conceiving, so now at moments, I have found myself wanting to explain how hard it has been or wanting to educate people about infertility and help them understand that it is all around and you just never know who's dealing with it, so be sensitive, people!). With some people I want to explain what an amazing feat this is -- this is no ordinary pregnancy, people, a WIZARD made my babies in a magical lab... I want them to marvel with me at what medical science can do. And I want to explain the enchanted feeling I had after discovering new hope with CCRM . . . I want to explain why I've been moody or distant or socially awkward for three years -- that there's a root cause to all of it.

But largely, I cannot explain all of that. People just aren't that interested, are they? They are quite interested in the fact that I'm pregnant with twins, but they want to think and talk about due dates and baby names. They don't really want the back story. I'm sure through trial and error I'll figure out what feels right about what to tell and what not to tell -- and to whom.

Some people have asked, "Do twins run in your family?" and when I want to, it has been so great to honestly answer, "They do, actually. My mom's mom and my dad's dad were both twins." I LOVE that because if I don't want to tell them the truth of how I ended up with twins, that's all I have to say. I am not a good liar and I don't like to lie, so having twins in my family history is really helpful. And this is snarky, but it feels good to say that to nosy people who have no business in my business.

One woman from church said, "Oh, so many people have been praying for this for so long." That one has had me thinking: have they been praying for this because they think we'd make good parents and we've been married for almost 4 years and we're both getting up there in age and well, it's just about time? Or did someone secretly spill the fact that we were struggling with infertility and have been doing treatments for years? Or maybe they just assumed such. I don't think I want to know the answer. If a bunch of people at church knew the real deal, I'm so glad I didn't know it. I probably would have skipped church a lot more often.

(Theological tangent, not intended to invite comments by readers who tell me I'm wrong about this or that God's timing is perfect. This is just what I'm thinking: I can't help wondering if sooo many people had been praying for this, why did it take so long? Why did it almost not happen? Kind of reinforces my thought that we are pregnant not because this is what God intended -- "you wanted this so bad, so God made it happen," as one of my friends said -- no, we are pregnant because we persevered through 5 IUIs and 3 IVFs and we paid Dr. Babycraft $25,000. Not that God had ill intentions for our pregnancy or that God wasn't part of the equation. I wholeheartedly believe that my faith has helped me along the way. Maybe God helped us find the patience to persevere and the belief that no matter what, we would find some peace through this journey, regardless of the outcome. And who knows, maybe that's what people prayed for:  not for a pregnancy itself, but for patience and peace. God is not Santa Claus, after all. But let me be clear:  I do believe God is in this thing and I need God to be; I'm just not sure God could have made this happen without a lot of help humans.)

Sorry about that. I bet I've never mentioned that I'm a seminary dropout. I took an elective called "Suffering and Evil" at one time that really helped me think through some of the above. Of course it was not thought through within the context of infertiilty; it was throught through within the context of my dad's brain injury and subsequent nine years of living hell betwen 1996 and 2005.

As we told people after church last Sunday, I had a bit of odd anxiety that was unexpected. I think it may have been the fact that I don't really like being the center of attention or the subject of discussion. Or it may have been that being "out there" and having people think I'm a normal pregnant woman is so weird. I do feel very pregnant -- have seen three ultrasounds to prove it and have physically been wiped out for much of the past two months -- but in some ways, it just feels better to keep the pregnancy news to myself and my close circle of friends who've known for a while. Now I move into this phase of being under a microscope and being subject to all kinds of unsolicited advice. The woman who said sooo many people have prayed for this also said, "Expect to be monitored closely by 150 people." That's nice on one hand, but yikes! What a change.

What a jumbled mixture of contradicting thoughts, huh?

The one place I haven't told yet is Facebook. I rarely update my status because I don't think people care what I'm doing. I generally reserve status updates for something big. Well this is big, but I've read so many other bloggers' posts where FB announcements of pregnancies really sting. I don't know who's out there dealing with infertility in my FB world, but I don't want to cause them pain. I thought about just totally coming out and saying, "After three years of struggling with infertility, I am expecting twins." But I don't want everyone who's my friend on FB to know I'm infertile. I've also thought about an email to a smaller group of FB friends. I will probably go that route.

Okay, this post was ready to go until I reread it and decided to add in that theological rant. Sorry again about that, and sorry for the length of this post. I've got more on my mind after listing to a Super Mom explain why cloth diapers and water births are best . . . But will save all of that for later.

Have a good weekend, everyone!

Moving on after miscarriage

It's been a rough time for me lately. I did end up having a miscarriage, but no D and C. I sort of wish I had a D and C because I've been bleeding off and on for like 5 or 6 weeks. Every time I think it's done, I get surprised again.

My doctor is monitoring my HCG -- they have to make sure it goes back to zero. A week and a half ago it was 32. It is CREEPING down! I go back in three days for another check. Hopefully it will have hit zero by then.

I have had a wide range of emotions during this time. I had been so proud of my "even" approach to all of this. Well, that is out the window. I've felt sorry for myself, I've felt depressed, I've felt jealous of a friend and her husband who told us she was 10 weeks pregnant at the same moment we said, "Yes, it looks like the IVF worked." (She is still pregnant, and looking so. Grrr.) I've felt confused about whether this is all worth it, I've wondered if I really want to have a child, I've thought and thought and thought about how OLD my husband and I are. Maybe we should just choose to be childless and get on with our lives. I read something about making that choice -- to be childless -- on the Resolve web site.

At one point, not sure how to pray about all of this, I thought that this would be my prayer:

God, I'm going to do IVF. If it doesn't work, you are going to have to practically drop a baby into our house. This is what I'm doing. Anything else has to come from you.

I went to a seminar about relationships during infertility treatment and met some great women who are all struggling with the same thing. Turns out, most of them know each other through Resolve support groups in the area. I was encouraged by meeting all of them more than the content of the session.

The day of our last HCG check, a week and a half ago, we met with our doc for a consult. She is going to change the protocol for our next attempt. It's more aggressive. We have to wait for my period to start naturally. Who knows when that will be, since I'm still lightly bleeding from the m/c.

Last week, my god daughter, who is 10, came to stay with us for five nights. She was a volunteer with the children's summer camp at the organization where I work. I've known her since the day she was born. I was her first babysitter. I love this kid. She's the closest thing I've got to a child. Having her here helped me remember why we are doing this. I think we'd be great parents. We have a lot of love to give. Our lives would be enriched deeply by having a child in the mix. So we will see.

I am skipping church this morning because they are having a baby dedication AND it's Father's Day. My dad died four and a half years ago. I just didn't think church would be a good choice for me today. My husband is there but I didn't want to do it. I've been thinking a lot about my dad the past few days. He was a great dad. He spent lots of time with me and I know he loved me a lot. I am proud of the characteristics I inherited from him. It makes me feel connected to him when I sense that something within me was also in him. I miss him a lot. I love you, Dad! Happy Father's Day.