Tag: Poppy

Forever Changed

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poppy-flower-images-and-wallpapers-34 (1)The following reflection was written by Poppy.

Infertility has forever changed me . It has changed who I am as a woman, wife, sister, friend, and now, a mother. I hate to admit this, but I let it become my whole identity at times. I feel that I will always identify with a woman going through infertility because I was her for such a long time.

I want to be open from the beginning: I’m currently pregnant and will deliver this precious baby very soon. Even this far along, I still have a hard time letting it sink in that my husband and I are going to be parents. That is because of the struggle it took to get here. Infertility has forced me to leave naivety about pregnancy, delivery, and motherhood by the wayside and know that anything can happen at any time. The farther along I am in my pregnancy, the more I find myself worrying about the health of our baby, knowing what a miracle it is to have a healthy child. In many ways, infertility has left a dark place in the back of my mind. A dark place of worry that our dream of parenthood will still not come true. I have battled this every day since my nurse called to tell me I was pregnant. The things that my friends and I have gone through will haunt me for the rest of my life. I don’t want to have this knowledge of all the terrible things that can happen! But not knowing would mean that I hadn’t discussed my infertility with others; wouldn’t have heard others’ stories or been part of the network of incredibly strong ladies that surrounds and supports me; would mean that my husband and I had made this difficult journey alone.

We had nothing but “failure” over 9 years and 1 month of trying to conceive. Only negative home pregnancy tests, no fertilization with IVF, “bad eggs,” and BETAs of 0 following IUIs. Adding to the stress and heartache of it all were a handful of doctors with conflicting messages—either I was “fine,” or my body was not working properly and we should not attempt assisted reproductive technology (ART) again. We did not know who to listen to or believe. It was heartbreaking and at times, unbearable. Over all those years, my hope of becoming a mother via pregnancy constantly waxed and waned. For a while–maybe the first 5 years of our journey–my plans revolved around becoming pregnant any minute. Vacations, vehicle purchases, long-term plans, even the clothes I bought! When I finally let this way of thinking go, it was difficult, but felt ultimately freeing to not plan around something we couldn’t anticipate or predict.

Trying for that long does something to your psyche. Particularly the feelings of uncertainty and inadequacy have never left me, even after being pregnant for almost 9 months. I never expect those feelings to leave, no matter how many of our dreams come true.

The more noticeable my pregnancy has become over the past few months, the more self-conscious I am. I’ve been very judicious with Facebook posts regarding this pregnancy because I know I have Facebook friends that are still trying. When I’m in public, I wonder about what other women are thinking when they look at me. Do I make them feel angry? Jealous? Despairing? In no way do I want to evoke in others the feelings that I used to get when I saw an expectant mother in public. I hate that infertility has done this to me. I would love to enjoy this time to the fullest, but it’s difficult when I know there are so many women out there who would love to be where I am.

Despite the joy of my pregnancy, I still have a hard time being happy for my “fertile” friends when I see a pregnancy announcement. It’s such a terrible thing to begrudge someone else’s path in life, and I realize that. I try my very best to think of them what I hope people think about me: ”I don’t know what she’s been through for this child.” Just because I consider them fertile doesn’t mean they haven’t had their own struggles related to getting pregnant or otherwise. Happiness and excitement should be my first reactions, and I beat myself up over my envy and frustration that this happens so easily for some.

If you struggle with infertility, it can change you and the way you see the world—whether you tried for almost a decade, or for a year before achieving a successful pregnancy, infertility is heartbreaking. It takes something natural and makes it clinical. It takes a private exchange between lovers and puts it under scrutiny. It dismantles dreams and replaces them with the uncertain and unknowable. It breaks down identity and expectation, all while being physically, emotionally, and financially taxing. In a way, your perception of the world is re-wired, and I have found that not even pregnancy can put things back where they were.

If you are struggling with infertility, it will very likely impact you the rest of your life. No matter where your journey takes you, a piece of you will always identify with your struggling brothers and sisters. Even as I sit here feeling my precious baby move around in my belly, it’s easy for me to go back to those dark times when I thought this would never happen, or let that darkness bring worry into the vision for our future. Please know that it is perfectly normal for the traumatic moments, heartbreak, and despair of infertility to stick with you. For better or worse, these things are part of your story.

Truth in Song

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poppy-flower-images-and-wallpapers-34 (1)The following reflection was written by Poppy.

I love music. I really love it. I have a difficult time expressing myself verbally, so there are many songs that express the way I’m feeling and I think that’s why I love it so much. My husband and I went through 9 long and very trying years of infertility before we got our miracle pregnancy. I’m 31 weeks right now with a baby I never thought I would have. Through those years, there were so many songs and lyrics that resounded with me. One song in particular that pops into my head is by Kari Jobe. It’s called “You Are For Me”.

“So faithful, so constant. So loving and so true. So powerful in all You do. You fill me. You see me. You know my every move. You love for me to sing to You.

So patient. So gracious. So merciful and true. So wonderful in all You do. You fill me. You see me. You know my every move. You love me to sing to You.

I know that You are for me, I know that You are for me. I know that You will never forsake me in my weakness and I know that you have come down, even if to write upon my heart. To remind me who You are.”

The lyrics are so simple. It always brought me back to reality: The Lord is for me, so what do I have to be worried/afraid/angry about? Often, I need a reminder of who He is.

 

 

You Are Not Alone

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poppy-flower-images-and-wallpapers-34 (1)

from www.newflowerwallpaper.com

The following reflection was written by Poppy.

 

This is a tough subject for me. I’m tearing up just beginning to think about it.

I’m currently 11 weeks pregnant after a long and hard 9 years of “trying.” Each Mother’s Day that rolled around has brought feelings of jealousy, envy, discontentedness, and of course unanswerable questions to God and my husband. What added another layer of grief was that I lost my own mother at age 15 to Breast Cancer.

My first vivid “bad” memory of a Mother’s Day was about 2 years into trying. I was on vacation with my girlfriends for the weekend and we decided to hit up a brunch spot in Wilmington on our way home. The staff gave each woman a rose at the end of the meal and wished all of us “Happy Mother’s Day.” I can’t put into words the sadness that I felt, but also anger at the waitstaff for not thinking through what they were doing. What about ladies that had experiences miscarriages or still births? What about those with failed adoptions or those of us trying to conceive, some even going broke financially and emotionally to do so, with no baby to show for it? I know this may seem overly sensitive, but those were my feelings.  I still have anger towards that restaurant to this day!

My husband soon realized how difficult Mother’s Day was for me. The next year, he made a card with our dogs’ footprints on it. That is one of the most thoughtful things he’s ever done for me. Over the years, he’s tried so hard to lessen the emotions that I feel on this day, but there’s only so much that can be done.

As the years went on, I actually learned how to handle my emotions on Mother’s Day, especially knowing that we would be going to church. There were 2 or 3 years that I just cried intermittently through the entire church service, and one year in particular that we skipped church altogether after I confessed to my husband that I just couldn’t take it. Our pastor at the time was aware of what was going on with me, and after a couple years of preaching to moms (which I wasn’t) or about moms (mine was in Heaven), he changed his strategy. Perhaps seeing me bawl through the services was enough to make him rethink his sermons. Whatever the reason, I’m thankful.

On Mother’s Day in 2015, I wrote a blog post entitled “On This Day, It’s O.K.…” It was from the heart and mostly about not having a mother around on Mother’s Day. But I did touch on our infertility for the first time ever on social media and how difficult it is to want motherhood, but not have it.

I don’t remember saying anything to my girlfriends about my feelings in the restaurant that long-ago day, but in the years following, they became a huge support system. Two out of the four of us required In Vitro Fertilization to become pregnant. The statistics are that 1 in 8 couples have trouble getting or remaining pregnant, but it seems higher than that. Why it is still taboo to talk about when so many people experience infertility is mind-boggling. In my experience, being open about infertility helps others admit their own stories.

For those women who have never experienced infertility, you have friends that have–no question about it. If you know of a specific friend or acquaintance that’s experiencing infertility (especially on Mother’s Day), I have found it really helpful to simply acknowledge it and tell them that you’re thinking of them in a personal message. It may seem like a lot to ask, but it really does have a significant impact. You may become a person that they turn to in difficult or joyful moments following an exchange like that.

Mother’s Day is difficult and emotional for both men and women who are infertile, have experienced miscarriage, still birth, infant loss, or failed adoption. It’s too much for words sometimes. And if you fit into any of these categories, please talk about it to someone you trust if you haven’t yet. The connections I’ve made because of infertility with women experiencing the same things are bonds that can never be broken. We share a deep pain that in many ways, only this community understands. Talk to them on your hard days–not just Mother’s Day. We all deal with things differently, and I learned how to deal with my emotions better because of these connections. Cry, yell, scream, go out, stay in, don’t shower, do shower, get dressed up, put make up on, or don’t. However you deal with it, just know that you will get through Mother’s Day and each hard day, especially with help from your loved ones and friends.