Why You Should Be Happy Right Now!

I just wanted to take a moment right now to remind you of something terribly important. 

You are living. You are here right now, existing, soaking in light, metabolizing food, enjoying the soft glow of a screen. You are a breathing, intelligent person who can read. You could have been any of millions of different combinations of people, but you are you--beautiful, smart, and brave! Remember that humans are not incredibly fertile creatures (my RE told me so!), so it's simply a miracle that you exist. You are a miracle! Never forget that!

This is your life! You have this terrible/beautiful opportunity right now to make your mark on the world. You have a chance to leave your legacy behind--whether for good or bad. You have so much power at this moment in time! I once had a teacher who would always say, "Make it a good day to be you." You have that opportunity, right now, at this moment, and at every moment every day. You have the chance to make your life one that you can proudly look back at and think, "What a wild ride!"

You are an amazing creature, oozing with potential. Why don't you go and do something with it today? Today, right now, at this very moment, this is your sign. Get out there and leave your mark!

Forgetting about the Two-Week-Wait

Oh, friends, this is my favorite time of the month. This time of the month is so full of hope. It's so full of potential. Anything can happen, at this point. I've done everything I can to cook up a baby, and now I have a chance to relax and let it marinade in water and prenatals for the next couple of weeks while I wait for a missed period. Ah, this is the life. ;) If you would have told me five years ago that this would be my life, I would have laughed. I would have told you that I went to college for a reason and that I would surely have written a book at least by now. But alas, my book is still in the planning stages, and is turning into multiple books the more I look at it. My life is so transformed it's nearly unrecognizable from what it once was. But it's totally in a good way, and that's not the point today.

 

This time of the month is also my least favorite. I have zero control anymore. I can't try any harder to make a baby stick. I can't take any special medications or do any crazy exercises or anything else in hopes that a baby will head my way. I'm helpless. I'm staring at the calendar, praying, calculating due dates, and doing my very best yoga breathing in hopes that all of this positive energy will focus into my uterus and make some magic happen. I have a love/hate relationship with the infamous two-week-wait.

What's a two-week-wait, you say? Well, it's the weeks following ovulation when you can only wait to see that magnificent second line appear on a pregnancy test. Of course, you can't take the tests at this point, because it's far too early to detect any HCG anyway, and it wouldn't make any sense to be crushed when it's impossible to know anyway. So, we wait, vacillating between blind faith and the possibility of failure. It's a complicated dance.

If you're in my boat and need some suggestions to keep your mind off of the calendar during your two-week-wait, you're in luck! I've got several suggestions for you:

1. Travel. There's no easier way to lose track of time than to travel. The farther away, the better. If you can go off the grid and enjoy an electronics-free vacation, do it. You probably won't be harassed by well-meaning relatives and you'll get so lost in enjoying yourself that you won't have time to think about being stressed.

2. Media. If you're a reader like me, visit your local library and stock up. I can go through novels quickly, so I would probably invest in 10-15 books for this waiting period. If you're not a book lover, no worries! Find a series you love on Netflix and go crazy! I've been using this method for the past eight months, and I've seen some great shows. I personally loved Gossip Girl, Missing, Arrested Development, The Office, Parks & Recreation, How I Met Your Mother, New Girl, 30 Rock, and many others. I just started watching Breaking Bad tonight, and I'm already hooked after the first episode.

3. Grow something! Okay, this works for surviving infertility in general, but it definitely applies to this portion of it. Go plant a garden. Water it. Weed it, as needed. And watch that soil grow something. Fruits, vegetables, flowers, whatever, just plant it. You will be surprised at how therapeutic it is to remember that you can grow something, even if your body isn't where that something is growing. You'll feel more fertile and accomplished after a month of gardening than you'd think. Try it and find out!

4. Meditate. I am terrible at incorporating this one, but I've read from reputable sources that deep breathing boosts fertility. I took a semester-long Yoga course in 2010 and remember feeling so good after class each day. I'm going to start trying this one tonight when I go to bed. Deep breathing is so great anyway, as it clears your mind and supplies your brain with additional oxygen. It boosts your thinking and makes you feel better. If you're not sure how to do yoga breathing properly, look it up on YouTube, and I'm sure there are tutorial videos. If it's causing a loud sound from the back of your throat, you're probably doing it right.

5. Laugh. Do you have a friend who keeps you giggling all the time? Do you have a movie or TV show that always cracks you up? Now is a good time to revisit them. If you're laughing, you're happy. If you're happy, you aren't stressed out. And if you're anything like me, this two-week-wait sure can be stressful since you have no control anymore. Bring some humor into your life during this time. I promise you won't regret it.

That's all I've got for now, but if you need more ideas, let me know! I can help you out. With 2.5 years of this under my belt, I by no means consider myself a pro, but I'm happy to share what I do know. Do you have any additional ideas? Leave me a comment; I'd love to hear them!

Happy two-week-wait! And may the odds be ever in your favor!

All About Suicide

Three friends of my friends have killed themselves in the last week (that I know of). I didn't know any of these individuals personally, but my Facebook feed has been blowing up with statuses about them, and I can't help but wonder if nobody ever told them that they could make a different choice? I mean, I get it. I understand depression. We all get it. We all have struggles. Every person in this life goes through issues and has to resolve tough conflicts. And I would be lying if I said I had never thought that maybe it would just be better for it to end. But I stuck it out, and it gets better, I promise. If you're feeling low (or want to know what to say to someone who is), then read on.

1. You are not alone. I promise. Whatever struggle you're going through, someone has gone through that same struggle. No one will ever have your exact same circumstances, but people have been in your shoes. Your pain may be great, but remember that people do get through it. If you don't believe me, find a support group. You'll find people just like you who have gone through similar situations. Even if nobody else has? You know who always has? You guessed it: Jesus. (See my Easter post if you want to read about my great Jesus epiphany.) You can always find comfort in prayer, even if your situation doesn't immediately change. If you still feel alone sometimes, that's okay. Just remember that you really aren't.

2. This is temporary. This is the hardest one for me to remember when I'm going through hard times. One of the biggest struggles with infertility is the fact that trying to get pregnant can go on for the rest of my reproductive life. I have an aunt who tried to conceive for ten years before adopting her son. But it's daunting to think of it that way. Don't do that to yourself. If you feel that your current struggles are never going to end, it's not true. High school ends at graduation. Seasons transition. Jobs change. Injured hearts heal. The emotional turmoil of being a victim fades with time. Even PTSD lessens as time goes on. This current, temporary stage where you are right now won't last forever. It might seem like it right now, but eventually this part will end. Don't make a permanent decision based on these factors. Because, one day, you're going to feel happy again. You're going to be really glad you're still around. Time will allow that, no matter what. If you stick it out, that is. Because your issues will never be resolved if you don't stick around to see them through.

3. The world would not be better off without  you. I didn't mention death in the last list. When close family members or friends die, you might feel like you will never feel happiness again. That part of the pain is temporary, but you will always feel some grief, just not the way you do right now. Everyone deals with death differently, and I haven't personally lost anyone that close to me yet, but I have felt the pain of grief. You have felt it too. Remember that feeling. That awful realization that you will never see that person again? If you die, that's the same feeling that you will single-handedly cause everyone who knows you. Probably even people who don't really know you but can empathize with your loved ones. Nobody likes that feeling. Don't be a jerk and hurt everyone. Don't deprive this world of your laughter and love and joy that will come again. You don't know what lies in your future if you don't stay until the end. You have great things ahead of you, and you will affect far more people during your time on earth than you will ever know. Don't cut short your potential by ending your life before its time is up.

I used to have a friend in junior high who always talked about killing himself. It was negative attention-seeking behavior, and he may not ever have actually meant it, but I always took the time to talk to him about it anyway. It was exhausting to tell him every single week why his life was worth living, but I did it anyway because I was his friend and I cared about him. I knew he was struggling, so I always made an extra effort to say hi in the hallways and be friendly when he seemed lonely. Most of his depression stemmed back to girl troubles, so I made a point of being friendly with his girlfriend too. They didn't last, but he also didn't kill himself. A few years ago, I met up with this friend, and he thanked me. He told me that he would never forget how I had reached out to him when he was depressed. I know things could have ended differently and that they still wouldn't have been my fault, because this was my friend's decision to make, but I am so glad that I took the time to be his friend anyway. We don't really keep in touch anymore, but I know that he knows he could talk to me about anything and that I would just listen. Be that friend. Everyone needs someone to talk to.

If your friends or loved ones are struggling and they choose to tell you about it, listen. Don't argue or give them advice (unless they ask!), but be there. You can't fix all of your friends' problems, but you can let them know that they are loved and that you'll be there for them when they need you. In reality, people care less about having their problems solved than they do about having someone there for them.

If you're feeling suicidal, get help. Call your parents or a close friend. If you don't feel like you can talk to anyone you know, call a suicide hotline and talk to someone you don't know. Call 1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433) or 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255). Get help! Don't forget that you are loved. You are appreciated. You matter. This feeling is temporary, and it will pass!

Understanding Infertility: the Shock of Pregnancy

Aunt Flo has been an unwelcome guest in my home once again. I'm horribly frustrated right now, especially because almost every good friend I have is currently expecting. Even friends who said it was my turn next. I guess they're starting to realize that I really can't control the fact that I am not getting pregnant. On the day that my "time of the month" began, I had two very good friends announce pregnancies to me within twenty four hours, and I won't lie--I didn't handle it well. I know I try to be positive on this page, and generally in life, but I'm going to be real today and discuss the raw emotions that come with infertility and how to deal with them. Because I honestly feel like the only thing worse than struggling with infertility is not understanding the struggle behind it.

When you announce to your infertile friends that you are expecting, there is a whirlwind of emotion that you bring. The first thing that pops into my head is complete shock. I know that pregnancy is typically more shocking for the people experiencing it, but I am always caught off guard about the whole pregnancy thing, especially when it's people who say they haven't been trying. Maybe I'll get used to it, but maybe not. It's always completely surprising when I hear the news, and I always have a few milliseconds of panicked shock.

Being caught off guard is really difficult because then I have to deal with all of my emotions that follow very quickly in order to stay friends. I go through the stages of grief because this child (and month) is not mine, and I only have about three seconds to do it: denialangerbargainingdepressionacceptanceCONGRATULATIONS! That's it. That's the time I have. If I am not congratulating and hugging and happy immediately, it's awkward. Because that's the expected response, and even though I am an anomaly, I still need to outwardly maintain my normal. And I really am happy for you. Kind of. But when I disappear for a few days (or weeks or months) don't take it personally. I just need time to deal with your happy news later, on my own terms.

Let's be real now. What happens when I am alone later? I usually cry. I hate talking about this, but your news makes me sad. I will never tell you how much I struggle with your news. How many hours I spend contemplating my own life and my own plans. How much self-assessment I perform in hopes of coming up with a solution to this awful, empty feeling inside my chest. I feel like there must be something I'm doing wrong. There must be something I haven't tried. My body cannot do what yours does so (seemingly) effortlessly. I feel forgotten because God is not allowing me to fulfill this righteous desire. Motherhood happens in all species, all over the world. It is the most natural thing there is. And I can't make it happen for me. I feel like a failure for being unable to achieve this most natural state. And that anger goes in all directions. Even towards me for making you feel guilty about your happiness. I know that you don't want to tell me. I know that you dread it. And even though it's difficult for me to hear, I'm always so glad when you do tell me.

This is kind of how the other night went for us. I'd just heard the second pregnancy announcement, and we'd quickly made our exit. We got in the car and drove for about a half hour in silence. Josh is in an awkward position because he wants to comfort me, but he's also dealing with his own grief, which I will never completely understand either. We are in the same boat, but we are both completely alone. We tried making small talk in the beginning of the drive, but I was in too much shock still. I felt numb and empty. I wanted to be home by myself. I didn't want to talk or see anyone or even think. I just wanted to be alone.

Josh turned on the radio to a station we don't listen to often, and song after song I knew. So I started singing. Imagine Dragons. The White Stripes. Anything and everything to get out this empty, aching sadness that was starting to consume me. My life feels like a giant cycle of grief. Month after month. Pregnancy after pregnancy. The always negative test, announcing "not pregnant" as loud and painful as a blow horn. But I am still so full of hope for next time. Maybe next time will work. Maybe at the next appointment they'll figure out what's really wrong with me. My existence is made up of a string of maybes. And, suddenly, we are at my sister's house, pulling behind her SUV in  her driveway. Her own badge of the children she shuttles back and forth from school to the store and home again. And, just as suddenly, I can't go inside. Through her front window, I see her husband watching TV, and I don't want to talk to anyone. Josh asks if I just want to come home with him, but I can't. I know that there's nothing better for me there than endless hours of meaningless TV and solitude. He asks me how I'm feeling, and I tell him I need to quit. I can't do this anymore. Month after month of heartache is too hard. I tell him I feel lost. I am so lost. I am forgotten and insignificant and lost. God doesn't see me. He doesn't hear me. My happy ending is not coming. I want to disappear. I want to go for a walk and never come back. I want to get lost and leave my phone and all of the worries and cares of the world and just disappear. I understand why people fake their deaths. I want to fly to Hawaii and live on the beach with the meth heads. I think that at some point I even said that I would go and be a meth head. I just have to get out of here. I have to get away from all of these people who want me to be happy and hopeful when I just can't. I just want to sing at the top of my lungs and run faster than I can and make my body hurt as much as my heart does right now at this moment. I used to cut myself when I was in high school and wanted to make my body hurt. I used to have a gym membership in college for when I needed to make my body hurt. And right then, at that moment, I didn't have an outlet for all of the hurt. I needed to hurt so I wouldn't cry. But I did anyway. And Josh cried with me. And we re-re-re-reassessed our options for the millionth time. Of course I didn't want to quit. I want to be a mother more than anything in the world. He told me I could go to Hawaii if I needed to. He said he could figure everything out for us. I think he's scared he's losing me. I think I'm scared of losing me. Eventually that anger turned into "we need to be more aggressive with this," which turned into talk about money. So many couples get pregnant for free. Why should it be so freaking expensive for the rest of us? We've already spent hundreds of dollars, and we still don't have any answers. I still don't feel any closer to figuring all of this out. I guess I need to make money in order to make this happen. I felt resolved with the new determination to be more aggressive with our fertility options, and I went inside.

More or less, this same conversation happens every few months. There are often hours of body-wracking sobs and feeling like a total boob for needing my husband to hold and comfort me while I cry. We often get into arguments that last hours or even days. I'm sad and hurt and feel so much guilt over the years I spent trying not to get pregnant. I feel guilty for the depression that ensues, because I know that nobody is trying to hurt me. I know that if they knew the deep-rooted sadness that consumes me, they would feel guilty and bad about their pregnancy (and probably towards me), and I really believe that every baby is a happy miracle that should be celebrated.

Friends, family, I love you. I love your children. I love that your lives are progressing and that you're having babies and families. And if it can't happen to me right now, I'm so glad it can happen for you. If you give me a few days, I'll be in a better mood and won't have to force my enthusiasm for you because I'll be genuinely excited for you. Because, under these ugly feelings I have right now, I really am so so happy for you.

Every cycle, I have a couple of days when I feel completely hopeless, and then I start right back up to being hopeful again. I'm starting my Clomid today, and maybe that will fix my body this month. Who knows? I'm reserving some skeptical hope for this month and next month and the next. If Clomid doesn't work, we'll move to IUI or IVF. We will keep trying. I always wanted a summer baby, and maybe I'll still get my wish. Because here I am, a couple of days later, feeling kind of better again. I feel hope, and I feel almost worthwhile. I don't feel forgotten the way I did. I know God is still there. I hope he helps me out this month, but I know better than to feel entitled to blessings right now. I'm even excited and happy for my friends. Infertility sucks, but I hope you understand it a little bit better now. I know I don't.