Infertility Journey #3: The Marathon

Thank you so much for your recent support in writing this blog.  Since my last post (although it was too long ago), I have already received dozens of messages and comments about the people out there with broken pieces.  I guess we are not that different, even though we have different stories.

So I will pick up the story after my "Black Friday".

To be honest, the months after that day seem a little blurry now.  Almost two years passed between Black Friday and when we finally got a positive pregnancy test.  There were ups and downs and everything in between.  I wish I would have been writing back then.  But it hurt too much to pick up a pen or sit down at the computer at that point.  Writing for me is like having a conversation with the deepest part of me.  I didn’t really want to hear what I had to say.

Even in the blurriness, I remember a few major events.  Right after we got the diagnosis, I got very sick. I had been diagnosed with Crohn’s disease a year earlier and I was still trying to get it under control.  I was in and out of the ER and lost about 15 pounds.  This is completely unrelated to the infertility, but as you can imagine, it was a rough couple months.

Our first plan of attack with Justin was to see if there was anything they could do for us.  Apparently, there is very little research on male infertility.  Most of the doctors that we spoke to simply said that they could try a few things, but overall it was a shot in the dark at best.  We were referred to a urologist and he suggested that he have surgery for a varococile.  I remember throwing up in a trash can at that appointment due to my aforementioned sickness.  I thought it must be a cruel joke.  Don't people throw up in trash cans when they have morning sickness?  Nope, mine was because I was just sick…right in the middle of an infertility doctor appointment.  This was a low point.  But not the lowest.

 

I won’t get into all the details about the surgery, but the odds were a 50% chance that it would fix the problem.  Of course, insurance didn’t cover it, so we got busy trying to come up with the money.  We were so blessed to have help with this from our family and friends.  So armed with hope and prayers, we had the surgery.  We waited a few months before we got the results.  When we got the call, we held our breaths and….

it didn’t work.

When you are going through infertility, you know deep down it is not a short sprint.  Until you get a positive test, you know you are still in the marathon.  The hardest part is you don't know how many miles you are in and how many more you have to go.  So although I was upset by this result, I knew I had to keep running.

As this point, I only had ONE friend that had gone through infertility.  ***Side note: If you don't have any friends that have gone through this and you are facing infertility, I will be your one friend :).***  Friends like this (or even acquaintances) are SO important!  When you are going through pain, you feel like all your feelings are unique.  While many of them are, some can be shared.  The world is saying so many ridiculous things to try and ease your pain, but those friends don't say those silly things.  They say the things that really matter.  I have many thoughts to share on this.  I think I will write about this a bit more after telling this story.

I was furiously emailing my friend for advice and she recommended a local doctor/clinic to me.  She also recommend we check out acupuncture.  Once the surgery failed, I called and made an appointment at the fertility clinic.

We were so nervous about going to that appointment.  We had so many questions and the only answers we had were from books and the internet.  But what could this doctor do for us? The waiting room was filled with people that looked just like us (some older) and it was overall very welcoming.  They had a board on the wall filled with baby pictures- babies that never would have been born without the help of these doctors.  It all felt like a futuristic movie.  They called our name, "Justin and Bonnie Kent".  I smoothed my pants, licked my lips, took a deep breath and walked in.

Infertility Journey #2: Broken Pieces

Well hello.  I am the world's most inconsitent blogger. 

Well, actually, I have to tell you the truth.  I really felt like I was starting to get in the swing of things, but then I had to go start writing about our infertility journey.  After I got the first post out there, I think I got a little nervous about telling the rest of the story.  I am not entirely sure why.  It is not like all of you can come through the computer and shake your heads at me for being so open.  And if you are shaking your head, this blog is probably not for you.  This blog (well this part of it) is for the people that I still know are struggling with infertility.  The people that don't wake up to a smiley baby or a have a child's drawing up on the fridge.  This is for my friends who can't tell people yet that they can't have a baby.  That is a lonely place and I just want you to know you are not alone.  And even though I have a baby now, this story is as fresh as if it were happening to me all over again.  In fact, the broken pieces from the pain still seems to pop up in the most unexpected places.  Just know.....I get it.

So here goes.

So the story left off when my friend had just found out she was pregnant.  Justin and I had been trying for a year and hadn't thought much of it.  But once my friend got pregnant, I thought it was time we look into it.  We decided to start with Justin.  He had an appointment with his primary care doctor already scheduled so we casually mentioned it and a test was ordered.  We were told we would have results by Friday.

My same pregnant friend and I planned a girl's day for that Friday.  We were going to go to lunch and then go hang out at the Hilton Bayfront where Justin was cooking in the pool restaurant.  This was going to be our day:

Instead, it felt like this:

Well maybe I am being dramatic but my friend and I still refer to it as "Black Friday."



Before our day began, we were going to stop by her prenatal appointment.  It would be a short appointment and then we would go on with our day.  I told her I would use the time to wait in the car to call the doctor.  He hadn't called and I was starting to get a little curious. And so I called.

He basically explained that my husband's numbers were not good.  In fact, they were terrible.  He threw a few figures at me and said words I didn't understand at the time, but all I remember hearing him say was, "It just doesn't look like it is going to happen for you guys- at least naturally."  What?

I wanted to explain to him that he must have gotten things wrong.  I wanted to tell him that I had been volunteering in my church nursery for years and had even brought Justin along a few times. I wanted to say that I had always been great with kids- ever since I was young.  I wanted to tell him how important having children was to Justin- was to us.  But I just said thank you and goodbye.


With that kind of news, you don't go to lunch and the pool.   I called Justin and he was really quiet on the phone and said he was probably going to leave work.  My friend and I just drove home in shock.  I started trying to be positive and tell her that they have so many things they can do now.  I was sure we could fix it if I did enough research.  I just didn't know what to feel.  We got to my house and Justin was home.  I walked in with all my positive thoughts and "can-do" attitude.  And that is when I saw him.

My husband is a strong guy.  He likes football and beer and nights with the guys.  He is sensitive and I have seen him cry- usually when it has something to do with being proud to be an American.  But today was different.  The man I saw was crushed.  I will never ever forget what he looked like.  He just looked up at me and the tears streamed down his face silently.  All my positive ideas went out the window.  This sucked.  This was not fun. I just wanted to run away from my thoughts and my pain, but I felt my legs walk toward him.  I just held him and we both cried.


In my next post, I will get into the details of all the tests and surgery that came next.  I will tell you about our controversy between fertility treatments and adoption.  But I will stop for tonight. 

Remembering this day is a broken piece.  I will always carry it with me.  That is how it is with loss.  When we lose something, we can never get it back, or at least without the memory of losing it.  And I think that changes us a little bit.  We all walk around with broken pieces.  Some of us have been able to make them look pretty and even functional again.  But others seems to carry theirs around awkwardly with no place to set them down. Sometimes we think our broken piece is worse than others.  But they all have sharp edges and they all cut.  And at one time, all of them were not broken pieces. They were part of something bigger and something beautiful. But loss touches us all and it certainly did touch us that Black Friday over four years ago.

(I promise the story gets better!)  Thank God that He doesn't leave our broken pieces alone. 


Thanks for reading.  I promise that once I am done telling this story, I will get back to my current life as a working mom.  But I think I need to get this story out- no matter how long it takes me!

Infertility Journey #1

Am I still alive?  Yes, thankfully.  I guess the reason there are not a ton of working mom blogs floating around is because the moms are all out busy working or being a mom!  Since I last wrote I have been adjusting to my new hectic schedule.  In this time, I applied for a promotion (and ALMOST got it!), turned 30, took a trip, remodeled our dining room to make more room for baby things, and attempted to wean Jack off of the baby swaddle.  Oh, and I applied and started a second job.  Am I crazy? Yes.  I am in training to be a teaching assistant for the university I work for.  It is a foot in the door to becoming a professor with them and the extra money will be nice.  But the blog slipped lower and lower on the priority list, which is precisely why I wanted to write in the first place.  I never make time to be creative or reflect.  The blog was supposed to be the vehicle for that.  Well I will congratulate myself for even sitting here tonight.  High five.

In my last post, I said that I was going to write about our journey to parenthood.  As many of you probably know, we struggled with infertility for three years.  It was just about the most painful thing I have ever gone through.  That trumps being diagnosed with a chronic disease (which all happened in the same year and was completely unrelated).  I never really made reference to it online because I was debating on whether I should keep things private.  But I have come to learn that I am not really a private person.  My opinion is that the more we share and the more we are vulnerable, the more we can help one another.  Also, the last thing I want is for my struggle to be for nothing.  So I am writing in hopes of helping some other hurting hopeful moms or dads out there.  Also, I think it brings awareness that people around you may be silently struggling.

Because it was three years, I think we will need to break it up into a few posts.  Here is where it all started:

I have always had this obsession with being “normal.” I used to think that if I somehow blinked my eyes hard enough, I would show up in the land of normal people and I would get to do what normal people do.  And I would be inexplicably happy.  I never quite seemed to get there.
As for my marriage, I guess we started off on the wrong track to the road to normal. Most normal couples get married, wait a few years, travel, get the puppy, wait a few more years and then think about having kids.  Not us.  Two months before our wedding, we were walking through the mall and fell in love with a Bichon Frise/Papillion mix, who would later become our "baby" Zoey. We bought her right then and there, not answering obvious and responsible questions about who would watch her during our honeymoon or why we were spending so much money on a dog crate right before a wedding. All we knew was that the home we were building was never meant for just the two of us.  I knew this from the very beginning.


Would you be able to resist?

My relationship with my husband started out as strictly friendship only for over 5 years.  Justin truly was my buddy, in the best and most real sense of the word.  He took me out for Valentine's Day after my first real heartbreak.  He opened the door for me.  He laughed with me.  He stood up for me.  He sang out loud in the car with me at the top of his lungs. He shared my love for travel and music.  One night, we sat on the beach and played guitar for hours in the cold- swapping gloves as we passed the guitar back and forth.  And he was SO talented. And he loved me, even if I was just his buddy.  


Over an awkward dinner and pounding hearts, Justin and I decided to turn our friendship into a relationship.  After the initial adjustment, things fell right into place and I started seeing my future take shape.  One night in September, after wine and fondue, he took me back to his apartment.  With candles and roses surrounding us, he played "Grow Old with You" on the guitar and got down on one knee. The ring was designed with all family diamonds and I said yes.  We celebrated with a huge surprise party with all of our friends and family. 9 months later.....

We were married.

Zoey quickly got a new puppy friend named Penny a few months after we got married.  She eventually became my favorite.  Don't tell.

Although our family was steadily growing larger, we often talked about having children.  We were only 25 when we got married and although many of our friends claimed that 30 was the magic age for getting pregnant, we responded by throwing out the birth control.  

****A word of caution: Never under any circumstances try to get pregnant the same time as your best “couple friends”. ****

 My friend will echo that statement.  She and I spent a year swapping information and laughing our way through all of the “trying to conceive” (TTC for short) websites and chat rooms.  Really, where is the master key to all the acronyms??  I wasn't worried about us because she was going through the same thing and wasn't getting a positive test either.  The four of us planned a vacation, had game nights and made fun of people that seemed to become boring after babies.  Then one night, I got the call...

She was pregnant.  Later I would find out that she would end up giving birth to her son and would get pregnant with her second baby.  All the while, I would still be stuck in the land of acronyms and websites indefinitely. But I didn’t know that then. I wasn't weighed down with the big  "I" word just yet and thought my time would come soon after. She gave me the play by play on getting her positive test and the confirmation at the doctor's office.  We celebrated together and dreamed of all the fun we would have in this new season of parenting.  I promised her a baby shower and she said "Ok but only if you are pregnant by then."

If only the test would turn positive one of these times…...  

I will leave you there for now.  Thanks for reading and PLEASE pass this link on to any friends that are struggling with infertility.  I would love to talk to anyone who needs a listening ear.

5 Lessons

I meant to write a little sooner as my goal is once a week, but time got away from me a bit.  Well I am happy to report that my second week back (last week) went MUCH better.  Justin had a fairly normal work schedule and we are settling into our new routine.  My third week is starting off well, although I still have my moments.  In effort to document some of my first lessons on the job, here are 5 lessons I have learned so far:

1.        Perspective is Everything:  You can go into work and dwell on the fact that you are away from your child.  Believe me, this is easy to do.  I honestly have a perfect angel (for now at least) as a baby.  Why on earth would I want to leave him?  He rarely cries and gives out smiles for free.  But, if I thought about it all day, I would be miserable.  I am learning to view my work as a gift.  Not only do I get to use my skills to provide for my family, I can take advantage of my time.  I am starting to exercise on my lunches .  I use my commute as a time to pray and gather my thoughts for the day.  I plan lunches with coworkers/friends/family to keep me refreshed and energized.  Keeping perspective is keeping me sane.

2.       It’s Ok to Enjoy Your Work:  I have never been the person that could imagine myself saying, “Thank God I have a job so I can get away from my kids!”  I still can’t.  If there was a way I could stay home and still have benefits and money, I would.  But I can’t.  And so I work.  Sometimes when I am concentrated and in the zone, I find myself enjoying my work.  Almost just as quickly, I feel guilty for even letting myself feel that way.  But I am learning to let go of that guilt.  If I need to work, I am going to do it well.  I think there is something honorable in that.  Plus, it makes life a lot more enjoyable if you stop wishing you were somewhere else.

3.       Pumping Takes Patience:  Ok, my male readers need not read this one J  I am still nursing and I am determined to continue to do so for as long as possible.  Overall, it has gone really well.  I enjoy the mental break and my work is really supportive.  A few notes on this:

a.       Get a hands free bra:  This way, you can enjoy a book or call home.  My other pumping friend and I share parenting magazines and I get to check in with my boys at home. 

b.      Those little white membranes are really important!  One day, I thought my pump was broken but turns out, it just needed a membrane!

c.       If you get a plugged duct, message me!  Not fun.

d.      It is worth it.  I feel like I am still connected with Jack because I can do this for him.  It is so much cheaper too J

4.        Sleep Training was Worth It:  Thank God for Baby Wise.  I had Jack on a schedule from Day 1 and I am so blessed that he started sleeping through the night on his own and hasn’t had one bad night since.  Sleeping is so important when you need to work all day.  I am just waiting for the day he stops doing this, but it hasn’t happened yet. 

5.       Moments at Home Are Amazing:  My favorite part of the whole day is Jack’s bedtime.  I look forward to it all day long and it is worth the wait.  I feed him and then we get a chance to play before his bath.  We read stories, snuggle and sing.  Being away from him has certainly allowed me to enjoy this time even more.  Again, perspective is everything right?

So, those are just a few of the lessons I have learned so far.  I have good and bad days, but I think I might be starting to get thePublish Post hang of this.  That is…until tomorrow when I have to start all over again. 

I think I am going to rip the band-aid off and write about our journey to parenthood in the next few weeks.  Stay tuned!

For all of you just trying to make it through the week,… you can do it!

First Week

One week down….a million to go.  Whew.  First, I just want to thank everyone for your support in starting this.  I have wanted to start a blog for a long time but could never find a topic that felt right.  I hope this becomes a place of support as we walk this road together.  Because God knows I need it.

 Well let’s talk about my first week.  I think it could be best described as a progression.  It started off really well and slowly unraveled into a huge, fat, big mess.  On the Sunday night before I went back to work, I was furiously cleaning the house and getting everything ready before my first day back.  My pump was packed.  I blew the dust off my work laptop that hadn’t even been opened for 4 months.  I was even tempted to pick out my outfit like I used to do before the first day of school after summer vacation.  Because let’s be honest. Maternity leave, at least for me, is a lot like summer vacation.  You live for so long at this crazy pace and then all of a sudden you get to stop and check out for a bit.  But back to Sunday night.  I was rambling to Justin about how we should have expectations about what he would get done during the day and who would do what chores.  Justin works at night as a private chef/cooking instructor and is home with Jack during the day.  For some reason, I thought it was really important that we figure this all out on Sunday night before either of us had a clue what we were in for.

I woke up at 5am on the dot.  I took my time getting ready.  I packed my lunch and made a fruit smoothie.  The house was quiet and clean and I thought to myself, I can do this!  Jack normally wakes up anytime between 5-7am so I wasn’t sure if I would be feeding him or pumping.  So by 6am, he hadn’t woken up yet so I just pumped.  I felt very satisfied with myself as I left that bottle on the counter, knowing that Jack would have it when he woke up.  And off to work I went.

My first day was great!  Yes, I had about 857 emails (literally) to go through but it was great to see all of my old coworkers.  It was a nice ego boost hearing about how much they missed me and how great it was to have me back.  “Wow, you look great!”  “What, you had your baby only 3.5 months ago!”.  That part felt good.  I will not give too many details about my job on this public forum, but I am the lead on a team of corporate trainers.  I jumped back into the swing of things and quickly started to learn about all I had missed.  I realized that I wasn’t that mom who cried all the way to work.  Maybe I actually can do this.

That was Monday.

When I got home that first day, I had a few tears when I saw Jack.  It dawned on me that I had just missed a day of his life.  Slowly in the back of my mind, the progression started happening.  I had no idea how I was really feeling at that point.  Instead, I took it out on Justin.  Why hadn’t he cleaned the bottles or walked the dog?  Weren’t these things part of our expectations?  Nice going “wife of the year”.  What you meant to say was thank you for keeping our kid alive all day and for being such a good dad.

This is already getting long so I will give you the short version of our road to chaos.  It started with a rat problem in our garage on Tuesday.  They got into our dog food so our three dogs were starving but Justin didn’t want to feed them contaminated food.  So he woke Jack up from a nap to go get new dog food, only to realize all of the stores were closed because it was only 8am.  Then Justin got his work schedule at the last second and realized he needed my mom to watch Jack two times in one week.  This also meant I had to add an extra hour onto my day to go get him after work.  On Wednesday, Justin got a ticket for an expired license while trying to teach a cooking class on a military base.  This also meant a trip to the DMV.  This also meant more time at my mom’s house for Jack.  On Saturday, Justin had to cook for 70 people (which turned out to be 125 people).  He was up at the crack of dawn on my one morning to sleep making hash browns and cutting fruit.  He came home exhausted but his day was only just beginning.  Justin is the worship leader at our church and he had to make sure he was ready for the biggest holiday of the year.

Late nights.  Hurried hellos and goodbyes.  No time to even look each other in the eye.
As I write this, I realize that most of the stuff was happening at home and had nothing to do with work.  But as I watched my house go from calm to chaos, I realized that I felt helpless.  My role is to keep everyone calm and organized.  My role is to help my husband.  All I could do was come home exhausted and get Jack in bed.  I even threw in a few snappy comments as a bonus.
So on Friday I cried at work.  I was so wounded, so tired, and so ready to be with my family.  Thank God I have a wonderful coworker who is in the same life situation as me.  She took me to get frozen yogurt during my breakdown.  By the end of the day, I left with a smile, knowing I could catch Jack during his “awake time” and get in a few snuggles.  But of course, there was a HUGE accident on the freeway during my commute and I got home right when he was ready for his nap.  What a wonderful finale to the week.  Justin was leaving right when I got home and needed help with some things.  As I looked around my messy house, I was done.  I threw a little temper tantrum like a little girl as I yelled, “I just want to hold my baby for a few seconds!!!” Thankfully, he knew that wasn’t directed at him and we got him out the door.  Blah.  Gross.

When I started this blog, I wanted to leave my readers with something positive or relatable in every entry.  Well I’m not sure this is going to be one of those entries.  See, I am already breaking my own rule.  I can conclude by saying that I survived.  I learned a lot during that first week and plan to think through some of those things and share them with you.

Please comment if you made it this far.  I would love to hear any first week horror stories or lessons you have learned.  I am praying this week is a lot smoother and that I learn from my own mistakes and failings.  Most of all, I am thankful that I even have a family to take care of and a job that pays my bills.  Cheers to a better week!

This Is For the Mom

Bibs, boardrooms, and finding balance in between.  Is it possible?  Ready or not, I am about to find out.  My name is Bonnie and I am a working mom...as of four days ago.  With four exciting, confusing, tear filled, invigorating, and challenging days behind me, I felt it was time to begin documenting this journey.

My journey to motherhood was a long and interesting one to say the least.  For the last few years, all I wanted was to hold that little bundle in my arms.  It was the fight of my life just getting there, but more on that later. Before Jack was born, I used to imagine the doctor putting that baby in my arms and looking down at his little face.  I knew that if I could just get there, I would be alright.  Things would fall magically into place.

Now I find myself here with my bundle....and the rest of life is shockingly still here. The alarm sounds at 5 AM and there is still lunches to pack, dogs to feed, a house to pick up, and a husband to love.  However, there is something poetic in the madness.  I keep going back to something my mom told me.  She said to keep reminding myself that these ARE the good 'ol days.  I plan to enjoy them as much as I can, even while I attempt this new balancing act between a husband, a career I love, and a little boy who already has stolen my whole heart.

I have a lot to share and I hope this place becomes one of comfort and encouragement for all moms.  We all know that a mother's work is never done, even if we don't work in an office.  I have the pleasure of knowing many fantastic moms.  I also know that we ALL need a little encouragement once in a while.  I will conclude this first post with a poem I wrote a few weeks ago.  I hope it blesses you!

This Is For The Mom…

This is for the mom that can take any sheet

And turn it into a magical fort

Who cuts the crust off of every sandwich

And becomes a fan of every new sport

This is for the mom who leaves every day

Before the morning light

And as she kisses that sleeping face goodbye

Wonders if missing these moments will ever feel right

This is for the mom with the child with a strong will

Who always insists on his own way

Who worries she is starting to see herself

In her child more every day

This is for the mom whose family is far

And home is a plane ride away

Who worries her child won’t have memories

Of grandma and grandpa someday

This is for the mom whose days feel all the same

Another nap and another lunch

Who wonders if she’s making a difference

As she pours that third cup of punch

This is for the mom who counts every penny

To buy the practical things she should

But in her heart she would give her baby

The whole world if she could

This is for the mom who doubts

And for the one who cries

This is for the mom who worries

Who just wants to be more wise

This is for you my friend

On this hurried day

You need to hear something

So hear me when I say

You are not alone

You are doing alright

So just keep walking

And fight the good fight

Please know that the love you feel

For that little face covered in glitter and glue

Is only just a fraction of the love

Our Father in Heaven has for you

May He give you the strength you need

And show you which way is best

And may He give your weary soul

True and lasting rest

-Bonnie Kent