Infertility Awareness Week: Surviving My Own Story

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Infertility Awareness Week: Surviving My Own StoryI want to thank Des Moines Moms Blog for the opportunity to share my story for Infertility Awareness Week. It feels like just a short time ago that I had no use for the word infertility. Then it consumed my life.

Four years ago my husband and I found out we were pregnant, and I started planning for my future family. I had some light spotting early on, got right in to see an OB, and was checked out as okay. They scheduled my next visit for 16 weeks, and off I went to spread pregnant joy wherever I went.

At my 16-week appointment, my world was turned upside down. The baby that I had already started a nursery for had stopped growing at around 12 weeks. Devastated doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt. I had so many emotions and yet no emotions at all. My husband tried to be there for me to the best of his ability, I tried to put on a brave face and push forward as normal, but every day it physically hurt. A deep, all-encompassing heartache overtook my body.

Six months later, I found out I was pregnant again. Instead of jumping for joy this time, I was stuck in fearful shock. I was not ready.

At eight weeks we found out that I had lost another pregnancy. Why? Why was my body not doing its job? Why was this happening to me? I felt so alone. This word — miscarriage — that I never remember hearing before was now all I could think about. A few women at work reached out to me about how it had happened to them, so I knew there were others out there; but I still felt like I carried this weight alone.

A year later I was pregnant again. The second I saw the pink plus sign I fell to my knees crying. I was terrified. I immediately called the OB and fought for progesterone. They had me in for blood testing and everything looked great. I swear I was in the OB office or on the phone with a nurse panicking weekly, sometimes multiple times a day. I cannot adequately express my deepest gratitude for the patience of the doctors and nurses at West Des Moines OBGYN.

Month after month I lived in fear. Anxiety and worry crippled my life. When I was far enough along, we rented a Doppler from an online company. I would listen before I got out of bed in the morning, after my shower, before I left for work, right after work, after dinner, and right before bed, but the relief never lasted long. I worked with a counselor to try to manage my anxiety in weekly sessions. I kept a journal that mapped out my fears every day. I had a support network that would reach out to check on me and that I could reach out to when I felt sanity slipping into panic. I never moved from worrying that something would happen.

Finally, in March of 2012, I gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

Infertility Awareness Week: Surviving My Own Story

Just before my son’s first birthday I found out I was pregnant again. It had been a great year with him, full of happiness and joy. Instead of instant panic, I was excited about another baby. I had been able to successfully carry a pregnancy to term and have a live birth. I believed my body had fixed itself, and I was going to be a mom again. Everything had checked out great, and aside from the occasional worry that I was able to work through, I was happily pregnant.

At 10 weeks I was at a conference for work and I had a gut feeling. Panic dug its claws in and wouldn’t let go. I called the OB office and fought for an ultrasound, promising to wait in the lobby for hours until they could squeeze me in. It didn’t matter — I would do anything for some peace of mind. When my ultrasound time came, I didn’t need to be told what I already knew: there was no little flicker of a heartbeat. The ultrasound tech just kept telling me how sorry she was. She held me and we cried together as my world fell apart again.

After this loss I was referred to a reproductive endocrinologist (RE) for further testing. This is where I first heard the term “secondary infertility.” I was so clueless to the plight of women who experience infertility and had never considered myself infertile before. I could get pregnant, I just couldn’t stay pregnant. People who were infertile just couldn’t get pregnant, right? I was diagnosed with unknown cause repeated miscarriage. There were no guarantees that if I got pregnant again it would be successful. I carried shame and blame for my body not being able to do what so many of my friends were doing: having healthy, normal pregnancies that ended with healthy, beautiful babies. The more I kept my feelings to myself, the more I hated myself.

The pain became too much to keep inside. My husband set me up with an account on Reddit and told me about sub-reddits (or “subs”) that dealt with miscarriage and infertility. After speaking with my counselor, she suggested talking about what I had gone through — and was going through — with others. I frequently visited the miscarriage and infertility subs. I started commenting and then posting and found that I was not the only one who experienced the pain I felt.

My support network would check in on me from time to time, and my reply moved from “I’m fine” to honest reflections of my feelings. The more I spoke about it, the more the weight of shame and blame lifted. I did online research to learn how to use my voice to move “infertility” and “miscarriage” out of forbidden language and into everyday conversations. Openly sharing about my miscarriages didn’t make the pain go away, but it helped me start to process and move forward toward our next steps.

I continued testing with the RE, and we decided to go ahead with in vitro fertilization (IVF) because it was the only way to test for what I called “bad eggs.” We did Pre-Implantation Genetic Screening (PGS), a genetic test for chromosomal abnormalities for the embryos that made it to day five, and waited for the results. After two weeks of waiting we learned that we had two “good” embryos. We had eight to ten weeks to decide our next plan of action, and after a great deal of thought and conversations with our RE, in the fall of 2013 we implanted both and waited.

Instantly, the anxiety and fear returned. After two weeks we had a positive beta test, and then every couple days we went back in to make sure our HCG levels were doubling like a normal pregnancy would. I resumed my anxious pregnancy behavior and emailed and called the nurse handling my pregnancy daily. At six weeks we learned that both of the embryos that we had transferred had implanted, and we saw two flickering heartbeats. I think my reaction was equal parts happiness and fear, and I think my husband felt the same but a whole different kind of fear — two heartbeats!

The doctors and nurses at West Des Moines OBGYN again were there for me throughout the pregnancy as I called with anxious worries weekly. The one thing that was different between this pregnancy and the last was that I was more open to sharing about my fears. I had hidden my successful pregnancy from people at work until seven months because of the two previous miscarriages; I didn’t hide anything this time. I shared how infertility had changed me and taken all my self-confidence and ability to rationally process pregnancy worries, and embraced support from colleagues, friends, and family.

At 38 weeks I gave birth to healthy twin boys. When people ask personal questions about whether my twins are natural or IVF, I take the opportunity to share about my recurrent miscarriages and how these boys joined our family. Sometimes people are visibly uncomfortable in their reactions. However, more often than not I am told about a connection to someone who has experienced miscarriage(s), who was successful or not after years of trying, or who is currently in the in the throes of infertility. Every time I see the smiles of my boys or watch them as they sleep, I am abundantly aware of how fortunate I am to be their mother.

Infertility Awareness Week: Surviving My Own Story

The pains of infertility still have an active role in my life as a wife and parent. I will continue to share about my experiences and not live in shame any longer because I’m a survivor of my own story.


Meet Guest Blogger Elizabeth Whitver

Elizabeth Whitver headshotElizabeth Whitver grew up in Iowa towns here and there, eventually finding her way to Ames to attend Iowa State University and get her degree in Elementary Education. She and her family now live in Urbandale where she and her husband work for the Urbandale Community School District. Elizabeth is mom to spirited son, Sam, who was born in 2012, and twins Micah and Beckett, who were born summer 2014. Elizabeth hasn’t been an active blogger since college, but enjoys crocheting and doing odd projects in her free time.

1 COMMENT

  1. Even though i know your story…. it nevers fails to move me. Tears of happiness and tears of sadness this morning…. but in the end thete is such joy! Thank you for being open, and helping me feel boldenough to speak my truth!

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