The excitement of trying to start a family should be one of the happiest, most peaceful times in a woman’s life. And yet for those who struggle with infertility, peace is often the first thing to get discarded on the path to pregnancy.
Peace is defined as tranquility or freedom from disturbance. After a 7 year battle with my own infertility, I can hardly imagine what it is like to be free from the disturbance that my body won’t function normally to give me the child my heart aches to have.
My journey started with the discovery of a uterine fibroid tumor the size of a coconut. This had to be removed surgically.
After hearing my doctor say that it would be impossible to conceive on my own, my husband and I tried to adopt through foster care. This led me to possibly the only time in my life I’ll hear little ones call me mom. For 5 months, I lived for those two girls putting their every need ahead of my own. The worry that accompanies parenthood, along with the failure of a dysfunctional foster care system took me farther away from my inner peace. Determined to do what was in their best interest, I advocated as strong as I could losing them and myself in the process.
I was at an all time low emotionally when we turned to IVF. I had sacrificed myself emotionally so why not give my body up to the science of the process that had proven to be successful for so many others in conceiving. It gave me a renewed purpose in my path to pregnancy and some glimmer of hope within me started to spark again. And yet four rounds of IVF with two miscarriages later I found myself in a pit of deep despair. To have had two children inside of me only for my body to betray me was a new type of inner turmoil I couldn’t reconcile. But I had other options to pursue on my pregnancy path so I pressed on.
Just adopt internationally so many said. Who knew you had to have $80,000 in assets and could not have anxiety or depression? Those factors ruled out this option for us.
Undaunted, I continued onto the next option which was domestic adoption. The idea that we would need $44,000 did not deter me as I started the new mound of paperwork. Somehow I would find a way.
Right in the middle of our domestic option, I thought fate intervened. We were accepted into the embryo donation program. This meant I could carry my adopted baby. I had to go for it. This had to be the option that worked out! $8,000 and a consultation later, my paperwork was completed. Going through the physical toll of IVF without the relief of egg retrieval was brutal on my body. But I pressed on determined this was my path to pregnancy. After it failed, the only reason I was given by the renown fertility specialist who had a 90% success rate was that it was my weight. It was an emotional blow to my soul piled on top of the mounting weight of all of the other failed infertility options.
I gave it time of course. But my mind told me there were still options to pursue. My heart ached on, driving my pursuit to be a mom. We tried to go back to domestic adoption but our growing debt from our previous ventures made that impossible. So I gave it one last try with IVF. I had lost weight and switched to the guru of fertility centers. I took on the pain, the pills and the passing out after egg retrieval one more time. I had to feel I had done everything I could to be a mom. I did and it still failed. I had spent over $35,000 on this dream of pregnancy with nothing to show but debt, pain and loss.
What I learned after filing for bankruptcy was that pursuing peace needed to become a priority in my life again. It had been so long since I hadn’t been fighting an internal war within myself over my fertility failure. We as woman convince ourselves that it’s not the right time or we don’t have enough money to follow our dreams. For me that no longer mattered after all of this. I needed a fresh start. So I cast aside my stressful job with a six figure salary, and moved to the place I knew I could regain my peace: sunny Florida. And now thanks to my pregnancy path, peace has become my most valued commodity.
Someone once said: “You may knock me down but not out.” When I think of that saying I envision a palm tree. They bend, palms fall and they are battered repeatedly in storms; yet they bounce back, standing stronger than before. I now get to look at them every morning in my front yard. They encourage me to press on. My story doesn’t have a happy ending with a baby in it. But it does have me turning my mess into my message and trying to help others who may also be navigating that emotional turmoil on their path to pregnancy. So remember if you are brave enough to brace this infertility journey there is no option that is ever worth your own peace.