“This is why you keep fighting; so that you can have peace. Whatever outcome will bring you peace, that is what you fight for.”
Julia is a patient that our office has known for quite some time. She recently welcomed her third baby boy and we have enjoyed getting updates and pictures throughout the years. A seasoned IVF veteran, Julia has been through it all and yet she is incredibly candid about her experience. This openness has led her to volunteer to answer calls for the Resolve support line twice a month. While there aren’t many calls, she is so grateful when she gets to speak to someone and give them some hope. We are so grateful that Julia has shared her story.
She writes:
The other day, I took my two older boys to the fire station open house. It was absolutely packed, it seemed like everyone from our town was there. I looked around at all of the children, moms, dads, siblings, grandparents, etc. and had a moment of self-doubt.
“I don’t belong here,” I thought to myself. “This event is for families.”
As if on cue, my middle son reached up to hold my hand, and my older son ran ahead and called out for me. “MOM! This way, follow me!”
I was instantly brought back to reality, my feelings of insecurity disappearing and belonging restored. I am a mom (of three boys!), and I DO belong at family events, school drop-off, parent-tot classes, parks and baby pools, and in the club that is Parenthood.
The lingering grief and pain of infertility can rear its ugly head at the strangest moments, like it did that Saturday morning. I remember the feeling of fear so well; the fear that I would never become a mom. I know all too well how painful the treatments and the unknowns are as I fought long and hard for my boys. However, I also know the peace that comes from a dream achieved. I want to instill hope in anyone who has that fear and pain, who is in the throes of fertility treatment, who is struggling with self-doubt and the unknown.
I have three beautiful and healthy boys. They are almost perfectly spaced apart; 2.5 years. From the outside looking in, we are a very typical family. And in most senses, that is correct – except for how our family was created.
We waited four years for our first son. I worked for one year with my ob-gyn and Clomid. I then had six stimulated rounds with my first fertility specialist and one miscarriage. When I met Dr. Miller, I had two more failed IVF rounds before we chose to use a donor egg. I had a polyp removal surgery. I did three trial cycles to determine the optimal window for an embryo transfer. We lost our first donor due to poor response to stimulation while I was on hormones alongside her. With our second donor, my first transfer was a blighted ovum that ended in two separate D&C surgeries. After extensive blood work, I was diagnosed with MTHFR, a genetic blood-clotting disorder that can affect implantation.
On November 9, 2016, my 13th cycle, I became pregnant with my first son.
Charlie was cycle 13. James was cycle 15. John was cycle 16.
I share the details of my journey not to overwhelm you, but to give you strength. Maybe your journey will be shorter than mine. Maybe it will be longer. It often felt daunting, hopeless at times, and never-ending. I remember the receptionist at Dr. Miller’s office pulled out my file. It looked like several copies of the Yellow Pages stacked on top of each other. During one of my meetings with Dr. Miller, he put his hand on top of that file and said, “Julia. We haven’t been through this much, for you to not get pregnant. I WILL get you pregnant.” I trusted him and pushed forward despite the fear and pain.
This is why you keep fighting; so that you can have peace. Whatever outcome will bring you peace, that is what you fight for. And you will know when that time comes. People ask me how I did it. They want to know how I managed the appointments and driving, the shots and tests, the physical side effects and emotional trauma, the disappointment and the grief.
I tell them the truth; you just do it. You have to keep going so that you can have your peace.
I promise that the grief and fear will fade with time. It might make an appearance here and there after you have achieved your dream, but that is just a little bit of PTSD from the journey. It will fade. You will hold your little miracle, you will walk with your child at the fire station open house, or into that parent-tot gym class, or to the first day of preschool, or story hour at the library and you will belong. You will feel peace.
Believe in Dr. Miller. Believe in his nurses, the ultrasound techs, the phlebotomist, his entire staff. Throw in some prayers, push forward, and wait for your time to come.