Retrospective Perceptions on Normative Family Constructs and the Impact of Revised Expectations: Reframing the Paradigm of Parenthood

Wow, time sure flies when you’re getting three shots in the belly each day.

Actually, this was my first day of three shots. After my appointment yesterday, the doctor said to begin taking the third type of injection – an ovulation suppressant (called Ganirelix) – and decrease the dosage of another – an ovarian stimulant (called Follistim). These new orders came as a result of my ultrasound and blood test, which showed that things were “on track,” with the follicles growing and my estrogen level rising. Apparently the doctor thought enough progress was being made that the Follistim could be cut back a tad and the Ganirelix regimen could commence to avoid premature ovulation. In other words, this was good news.

Five days into it, and we are already looking better than last time around, thank God. We still have a ways to go, with many more potential disruptions and disappointments. But for now, I can certainly be thankful for this one step forward, and pray that the Lord will continue to carry us each step of the way.

In the meantime, I’ve got plenty of bright ideas for blog topics, including a top 10 list of some of the most insensitive things people have said to us related to infertility and a rant against irksome pregnancy-deifying Facebook status updates. However, I recently discovered that November is National Adoption Month, and since I haven’t talked much about that part of our story, I thought I should share how God has grown our desire to adopt a child. My criticisms of society and social networking can wait for future posts.

Colin and I started talking about adoption when we were dating. Obviously, we didn’t want to do so at the time; we just discussed our views on adoption, how we considered it to be symbolic of God’s love for us, and agreed that we’d be open to it if/when we got married. We tied the knot, waited a few years, and started trying to conceive. Then the you-know-what hit the fan, and it became apparent that this whole getting pregnant thing wouldn’t be as easy as it looks.

Thinking back, I don’t recall how the topic of adoption entered our conversations, though I do remember that it was a mutual initiative – both Colin and I thought it would be a good idea to start pursuing adoption even in the midst of beginning fertility treatments. So we did some research online, talked to friends and family (especially drawing on my mom’s expertise as a counselor at Care Net pregnancy services), and discovered Bethany Christian Services, a large U.S.-wide agency that provides domestic and intercountry adoption.

We attended a Bethany informational seminar in April and quickly got the ball rolling on the paperwork for domestic adoption. It was incredibly time-consuming and exhausting filling out all the forms and procuring the necessary documents, and at times felt invasive, as we had to answer question after question about our personalities, our marriage, our infertility, our faith, and numerous other topics that were part of the home study.

But honestly, I enjoyed it. Not that I took a great amount of pleasure in rehashing my whole life story in the questionnaires or learning about the grief that birthmothers experience when they make adoption plans for their children or talking to the case worker about our childlessness and struggles with infertility. The adoption application and home study process wasn’t enjoyable in that sense; rather, it was a blessing in terms of how it appeased my task-oriented nature and allowed me to do something working toward the goal of being a mom. I had been feeling overwhelmed with loss – loss of control, loss of fertility, loss of a biological child I didn’t know if I could have – and adoption gave me hope that the Lord would redeem those losses and create a beautiful family for us, just in a different way than I had expected. Hence, the title of this post, with buzzwords straight from the pages of Colin’s academic journals.

There’s a lot more I could say about adoption, and I plan on doing so in the future because we plan on adopting regardless of whether or not IVF works. Of course, we’re not just doing IVF for kicks – we wouldn’t be spending this much money or investing such a ridiculous amount of emotional and physical energy into it if we didn’t think there was a chance of success. We believe that God works miracles through biological pregnancies and adoption, and we know that He answers the prayers of those longing for children (see: Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, Hannah, and Elizabeth). We just don’t know how or when He’s going to answer our prayers.

In the absence of that knowledge, I’ll continue to blog about IVF and adoption, and perhaps in the future blog about having a biological child or adopting a child. Hopefully I’ll get to do both.

Once more unto the breach

Much has transpired since my last post – Colin and I wowed our friends with our super-creative homemade Halloween outfits (more on that later), we had our first GracefulWait couples meeting (much more on that later), Justin got accepted to the University of Washington medical school (yay!), and the Republicans shellacked the Democrats in the mid-term elections (double yay!). Oh, and we got the go-ahead to start IVF again this month.

This news was about as big a surprise as finding out we had to cancel our cycle last month. See, Colin and I had basically surrendered ourselves to the probability that we’d have to wait until January to try again, the reason being that the fertility clinic’s embryologist would be on vacation during the week of Thanksgiving, and it wasn’t that likely that we could get everything done before she left. Considering that she’s the one who’ll be manipulating and combining our eggs and sperm – a reproductive mixologist, if you will – we kinda need her around for the procedure. Because my period took awhile to arrive, probably due to the hormonal assault from going on and off birth control and then taking fertility meds, I figured it would push the schedule back too far and not provide enough time to complete the cycle before Thanksgiving week. And because of Christmas and all the holiday activities in December, I assumed we’d have to postpone ’till January.

Knowing that this was a possibility, Colin and I tried to soften the disappointment by taking the “count your blessings” approach and thinking about the potential benefits of doing IVF in January – how we’d have more flexibility with our work schedules and wouldn’t have to deal with any holidays or trips. So when my period finally came and I called the doctor’s office, I had already steeled myself for the nurse’s announcement that we’d have to reschedule IVF for January. When she told me that I should come in for a baseline ultrasound on Friday, I was surprised the doctor would want to do that at this point. I was also surprised when they said my ultrasound showed no cysts since they had told me last month that I had an endometriosis cyst, which doesn’t go away unless it’s surgically removed. And then I was surprised when the nurse handed me the schedule, which estimates that the retrieval will be on Nov. 15 and the transfer will be Nov. 18, just in time for the embryologist to hit the road for her vaca the following week.

With this unexpected turn of events, I almost don’t know what I should be feeling – excitement, apprehension, or frustration over the constantly changing circumstances and the need to rework our plans for this month, including an academic conference that Colin now can’t attend and a trip to Grandma and Grandpa Hesse’s that we now most likely can’t make. I don’t want to sound ungrateful for this answer to prayer, so I will acknowledge that it is definitely a blessing to be able to move forward with IVF, especially with my baseline ultrasound showing no cysts (my pessimistic side is telling me that there is one there, that it was just hiding during the ultrasound and will wreak havoc later on in the cycle). However, I want to be careful to avoid getting my hopes up too much, or getting carried away with my fluctuating emotions. We have no idea if the stimulation will work better this time, if we’ll be able to do the retrieval and transfer, or if the embryo(s) will implant. It’s all in God’s hands, and there’s no point jumping to conclusions or freaking out about what might happen. So my goal is to take it one day at a time, to have flexible expectations and trust in God’s plans instead of my own.

Now I’m not a roll-with-the-punches kind of gal. I like my Google spreadsheets, iCal schedule, and comprehensive to-do lists. Heck, half my job responsibility is nagging people about turning stuff in on deadline (Colin would say the other half is nagging him about everything). So living life one day at a time without fretting about what I need to do now or in the future is a strange and frightening concept to me. I know I’ll need an extra measure of God’s grace to get through this time of immense uncertainty. This isn’t an affirmation that those who say “Just relax and you’ll get pregnant” are right; rather, it is a recognition that I need to tone down my Type A neurosis.

Perhaps I should emulate the laid-back, carefree attitude of Hungrybear9562, whose YouTube video provided inspiration for our Halloween costumes. This dude exemplifies the “live and let live” mindset and demonstrates how being relaxed and easygoing helps you really appreciate the beauty of creation. Smoking pot probably helps him with that, too.

Our Spooktacular party with our friends was a blast, as was our first GracefulWait couples meeting, inasmuch as you can call hanging out with other couples who’ve suffered the pain of infertility and infant loss a “blast.” Seriously, we enjoyed talking with some friends we already knew and meeting new friends who are all on the same road as we are. We shared our stories and discussed how we wanted the group to be a source of encouragement for our relationships: with the Lord, with our spouses, and with other couples and families and friends. Talking about two verses in particular – John 10:10 and Ephesians 3:20 – reminded us that God has given us abundant life through Christ and that He does abundantly more than what we ask for or imagine, which aptly addresses our needs as couples facing infertility/infant loss to find contentment and peace in Him while asking Him to answer our prayers for a child. We are very grateful for this group and appreciate their support as we try IVF once again.

If you know your Shakespeare, you’ll recognize the title of this post as a line from “Henry V.” Beloved by Covenant High School alumni, this play describes events immediately before and after the Battle of Agincourt during the Hundred Years’ War. I chose this title from the speech at the siege of Harfleur because in some ways, it feels like we’re gearing up for another battle in our long War against Infertility, which feels like it’s as long and fruitless as the War on Terror. Yeah, I know that’s terribly melodramatic, but cut me a little slack for this English teacher-worthy analogy: To get through IVF and whatever happens afterward, I know we’ll need a band of brothers – loving family members, empathetic infertile friends, compassionate fertile friends – supporting and praying for us. Thanks for your encouragement and patience with my nerdy literary references.

Waiting gracefully

I got a little hyperlink-happy in my last post, so this time, I’ll restrain myself and only include one: the Facebook page for GracefulWait, the infertility and infant loss support group Colin and I are helping launch at our church.

God began leading us in this direction earlier this year when we attended an adoption informational seminar offered by Bethany Christian Services. A couple shared their story about how God blessed them with a daughter and son through adoption and explained how they formed and infertility support group at their church while waiting to be selected by the birthmothers. The group started out small and over time grew into a large community-wide ministry, far bigger than they had initially expected. Leading this group not only helped them pass the time waiting for their children, it also gave them the opportunity to comfort and enjoy fellowship with those who were experiencing the same struggles.

Hearing this couple describe how God used their heartache to console others while also blessing them in the process gave me the greatest moment of hope I’ve experienced thus far during the past two and a half years of not being able to get pregnant. It was an epiphany of reassurance, a spark of light promising a reason for the pain and tears and irrepressible feelings of loss. Realizing that I could do something with my grief, instead of wallowing in it and getting frustrated with my inability to fulfill my desire to be a mom, gave me purpose and a sense of relief that my life wasn’t meaningless. (I know this sounds awfully melodramatic, about as angsty as something you’d read in Twilight, but that’s how I felt at the time.)

So Colin and I introduced ourselves to this couple, Don and Pam, at the Bethany meeting and asked them for advice on starting a support group. Since then, Pam has called and shared tips, mailed us some great materials they used at their meetings, and emailed encouraging notes. We are so thankful to have another couple who has walked the same road we’re on support us in getting this group off the ground.

To further aid our efforts, I ordered a booklet from Stepping Stones (Bethany’s ministry for infertility/infant loss) full of helpful suggestions on starting and promoting a support group. The authors emphasized the importance of choosing a suitable name for the group to make people feel welcomed and comforted. This turned out to be a challenging undertaking, as I couldn’t for the life of me come up with anything but inappropriate, borderline-crude names, such as:

  • Fertile in Spirit
  • Unplanned Non-Parenthood
  • We’re Not Drunk; We’re Infertile (see 1 Samuel chapter 1)
  • WTFF (Waiting To Form a Family)
  • Families Under Construction … I’ll leave out the abbreviation

Fortunately, the task of naming the group wasn’t mine to fulfill. Coincidentally*, while we had been talking with one of our pastors about starting a couples infertility/infant loss support group, another woman at the church had been working with the care ministry to form a women’s infertility/infant loss support group. Also coincidentally*, she had previously been involved in a Bible study with one of the women from our small group. (*coincidentally = God was obviously orchestrating this)

Kelly and I met for lunch and discussed our ideas, sharing our stories and explaining what had brought us both to this point of wanting to create a ministry for this group of people we identify with. That was a few months ago, and at this point, we’ve had two women’s meetings and will be holding a couples meeting in two weeks. Already, it is clear that people are being blessed through this ministry, and I pray that it will continue to bring together women and couples so that we can carry each others’ burdens and share the love and comfort of Christ.

Our group is called GracefulWait. Kelly, who has been a huge Godsend to me personally, came up with the name and created the Facebook page as a resource for those who want to get involved. It’s a much better name than anything I could come up with, and it poignantly captures the purpose of the group: to help one another as we wait for the Lord to build our families. The problem for me is only He knows how long that wait will be, and I’m not a particularly patient person.

Interestingly, one of the topics at our college Bible study leaders meeting Thursday morning was about having an eternal perspective and believing in God’s promises of a future life with Him. Then in our college small group we’re leading, we covered the chapter in A.W. Tozer’s Knowledge of the Holy about God’s eternity and how He exists outside of time. So He’s certainly not beating around the bush with this lesson about the importance of recognizing our trials are temporary and the need to trust Him during our sometimes seemingly endless wait.

It’s hard to understand

Today was supposed to be when they’d do the embryo transfer, the final part of the procedure that starts the waiting period before they do the pregnancy test. Instead of sitting around worrying whether or not it worked, I’m sitting around worrying if we’ll be able to start over again in a few weeks and licking my wounds after hearing a bunch of pregnancy announcements this week. TGIF indeed.

One bright spot in this mostly overcast week was Justin’s acceptance into med school. I’m proud of my little brother for his hard work, perseverance, and most of all, his faith that God would guide him through this process. And he’ll continue to depend on the Lord to give him wisdom about which school to go to (I’m sure he’ll get accepted at several) and to give him strength for surviving the rigors of med school and residency, hopefully minus any Grey’s Anatomy-type drama.

Being a good journalist, I figured I should report some medical news (albeit more than a week late) regarding Dr. Robert Edwards, the co-creator of in-vitro fertilization who was recently awarded the Nobel prize for medicine. Being a good hypochondriac, I thought I’d share what I found out about endometriosis cysts and IVF, which, from what I could determine after 15 minutes of Google research, seems to confirm what my doctor said: A cyst can cause complications but for the most part doesn’t appear to affect IVF outcomes. Since Dr. Edwards’ award probably has greater news value and broader appeal than journal articles about cysts, I guess I should focus my discussion on the former topic.

Dr. Edwards, a physiologist, and his now-deceased colleague, gynecologist Patrick Steptoe, developed techniques for fertilizing human eggs outside the body in the 1960s. Their work led to the birth of the first “test tube” baby in 1978 and about 4 million IVF babies since then.

Called a “milestone in the development of modern medicine” by the Swedish institute that awards Nobel prizes, IVF has sparked ethical debates about issues like the storage and destruction of human embryos since its introduction and continues to draw ire from certain religious groups such as the Roman Catholic Church, which stated that Edwards’ award was “completely misplaced.”

Now I’m no ethicist, and I don’t feel up to the task of delving into that moral morass, though it’s interesting to read Christian forums like Stepping Stones that discuss these ethical considerations. Obviously we wouldn’t be doing IVF if we thought it was wrong, and we’re trying to make God-honoring decisions as we go through this process. What caught my attention regarding this news about the Nobel prize wasn’t the morality of IVF or the question of whether or not Dr. Edwards deserved the award, but how it brought infertility into the media spotlight and elicited some negative remarks about those who choose to go through fertility treatments. As what you would expect from the NY Times readers’ comments section, the responses to their article on Dr. Edwards contained several inflammatory statements about infertile couples, such as “they should just adopt” and “maybe infertility is nature’s way of controlling population levels.”

These types of comments demonstrate a lack of understanding and empathy, which unfortunately isn’t confined to the world of anonymous comment threads. I’ve got tons of ideas for another blog post all about the well-meaning yet dumb things people have said to us regarding our infertility, so I won’t blab on much more about it. But I wanted to include a quote from a commenter at the Stirrup Queens blog (and you thought me talking about my uterus and ovaries was bad; wait ’till you read what these ladies have to say about their female parts). This is part of Megan’s response to the post, “Will a Nobel Prize Change the Way People View IVF?”:

Perhaps this event will lead to more discussion, less mystery, and in some people an acceptance of a practice that’s lasted long enough for children of IVF to become parents themselves. But to a majority of people (ie, the people who likely don’t have any issues with infertility) it’s still mysterious and “different” and they’ll quite possibly continue to carry negative views on something they’ve never experienced and don’t fully understand.

I know that many people can’t understand the pains of infertility because they haven’t been through it, or possibly don’t know anyone who has. There are certainly some people I can’t completely empathize with because I haven’t experienced their struggles. I’ve never been diagnosed with cancer; I haven’t lost my husband; I’ve not had an unplanned pregnancy and faced the heart-wrenching decision of raising my child in difficult circumstances or relinquishing them for adoption. All I can do is pray for those people and strive to be sensitive to their grief, and that’s what we ask of others who have not had trouble conceiving.

Thankfully, there is One who can truly empathize with us because He knows us better than we know ourselves. And that brings great comfort to all who are hurting – that is, everyone.

A blip

Chalk another one up to our list of Things That Haven’t Happened in the Timing We Expected While Trying to Have Kids.

After the first ultrasound on Monday, when I found out about that pesky cyst, I figured my next appointment would be pretty critical in determining how and if we proceed with IVF. The little freak-out on Monday turned out to be beneficial in that it prepared me for the unwelcome possibility of needing to cancel the cycle. The ultrasound yesterday showed the cyst was getting bigger, and, more importantly, that the other follicles weren’t.

My kind and efficient doctor, whose job I certainly don’t envy, had me come into her office so she could explain the sitch in thorough detail, which I will try to summarize succinctly (a tall order, for me). First, she said the cyst could be more endometriosis that built up since my laparoscopy last year. It shouldn’t be a problem unless it causes a lot of pain, and that type of thing hasn’t been shown to affect the outcome of IVF. Of greater concern was the fact that the other follicles weren’t growing much yet. She could have increased the dosage of meds and kept me on them longer, but lengthening the prototypical cycle by a few days has been shown in studies to decrease IVF pregnancy rates. So she wanted us to know our options: We could proceed with the cycle until the meds finally started taking effect or we could cut our losses, cancel the cycle, and try again, hopefully soon.

Her best guess as to why the follies weren’t getting much action is because of the birth control pills she prescribed for me the month before. It’s pretty standard protocol to do at least one cycle of BC before IVF; it helps many women regulate their body functions, but for others, it can delay follicular growth, according to the doc. It shouldn’t be surprising I’d fall into the latter category, considering how sensitive my body is to any sort of hormonal changes. Case in point: I’ve had to buy a heck of a lot more Proactiv ever since I went off BC 2+ years ago.

Fortunately, my blood test showed my estrogen level was going up, so the medicine was working, just taking longer than expected. We don’t know for sure if the meds would work any faster in a month or more, after the BC has worked its way out of my system, but considering how well I’ve responded to less powerful fertility drugs in the past, it does seem like there would be better odds.

While the doc said she would support us if we wanted to proceed or not, Colin and I didn’t need much time to discuss our decision. Obviously, we want to do what will lead to the best chance for success, and, though it sucks to have to wait another month or longer, that’s what we need to do.

The need to cancel after going through five days of shots is frustrating and disappointing. We had worked out the October IVF schedule logistically and prepared for it emotionally, and now we have to start over again, who knows when. Even if it’s only a month later, that’s one more month of not being pregnant and not knowing when/if/how we’ll have kids. Another month for others to make pregnancy announcements and us to feel happy and yet left out.

That’s the downside. But God has really helped me believe He’s got a purpose for this delay, just like He’s got a purpose for all of our struggles in trying to expand our family. And He’s pointed out a few plus sides to this change of plans:

  • It’s better for my work schedule.
  • The doctor knows more info about how my body responds to the meds.
  • Colin has gained experience giving me shots.
  • We won’t be finding out if we’re pregnant right before our first meeting of the couples infertility support group we’re helping launch at church.
  • We only wasted a couple hundred bucks on the meds instead of thousands on doing the whole procedure with decreased chances for a successful outcome.
  • I’ve got more time to blog.

As my mom put it, this canceled cycle is just a blip, a temporary interruption in our path to parenthood, nothing insurmountable or impossible to overcome. We still face a lot of uncertainty, and are praying that we will be able to try again in November and not have to wait until after the holidays. I’m not a great waiter, so the best thing I can do at this point is to remind myself of verses like Psalm 62:5-6: “My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I will not be shaken.”

I also need to think of some fun things to do to pass the time and keep me from worrying about when we can do the next cycle. For example, this Saturday, I’ll be going shopping with a friend. We won’t be dropping $10K this month, so why not pick up a new pair of shoes?