Tag Archives: CT support group

Waiting for the Ball to Drop

I’ve said I’d keep you posted and where have I been? I’ve at least been trying on my insta stories but I don’t think unless there were a videocamera following me constantly that I’d be able to truly depict what this whirlwind is like.

It’s finally here…CYCLE month. It’s been well over a year coming and honestly it’s the last couple of months that have thankfully gone the quickest. Almost so that I can’t believe it’s finally here and the nervous excitement that goes with that is in full effect. If I could possibly sum up where I am right now it’d have to be “waiting for the ball to drop.”

Mike had his most recent appointment with his urologist at the end of April and much to all of our shock we were finally met with good news-sperm. During our initial journey they never found anything except dead swimmers and that was after the sample was spun. His numbers are completely different and not for the better, but we have something in a sample. I can’t make sense of it and am still trying to wrap my brain around how it’s happened this way. All I can attribute it to is some kind of miracle or good karma come our way. It was also just what Mike needed to get him feeling as positive and hopeful as I’ve set out to be. Yet it has also given him another excuse to prolong things in any attempt to avoid surgery. And that brings us to today…everything had been going so well I was waiting for the ball to drop.

I’ve been on birth control that last three weeks, with headaches and break through bleeding every single one of them. So much so that I was concerned that I might have had a cyst rupture but I was brought in for an ultrasound the end of April and everything looked great. Today was my follow-up appointment from then as I took my last pill Saturday and Aunt Flo showed up in a timely fashion yesterday. Of course that came as a shock because when does she ever come when she’s supposed to? ‘Komkk But an even bigger shock was that I’m supposed to be starting meds in days and insurance has yet to give authorization.

As luck may have it, having this support group and little girl gang of mine, I had some donated meds and knew just who might have the rest of what I needed. I’m overflowing in gratitude for one of my friends who has generously donated her leftover meds to me so that I don’t have this added pressure of scrambling to order and then fighting to be reimbursed by insurance. We actually knew each other for many years back and our paths crossed again because of infertility. If I didn’t already know it, today proved to me that we were meant to reconnect. On top of it, she left me a little note that brought me to tears. It was just what I needed in the moment. Crisis averted.

My DH on the other hand, seems to be dropping bombs let alone balls. He’s really not all in this time around. I don’t know what it is. He’s at the same appointment, hears the same phone conversations, yet his own fears are so overcoming that he can’t just let me have this moment. Many of you reading this know him personally, so for you I don’t have to reiterate  he’s the greatest and most certainly loves me and wants to give me the world. This is not going to make or break us. Tomorrow marks 17 years together and undoubtedly we’re meant to grow old together. But I write about this for those of you in a similar situation.  Maybe you’re doing this alone, or your significant other is deployed, or maybe you’re like me, feeling as though you’re making a baby by yourself.  I say this not for pity, or to stick my husband out.  I’m writing this just to say it happens.  Infertility and going into an IVF cycle is hard enough.  Feeling this was makes it even shittier.

This is not how I wanted to make babies.  I wanted to be whisked away on some romantic getaway and have too much to drink and be surprised two weeks later with a missed period.  I didn’t want to be poked and proded, dealing with insurance and early morning monitoring.  I wanted the chance to plan some grandiose reveal to my husband to let him know we’re pregnant, not wait on bated breath for a phone call to reveal our fate.  I wanted to have one baby and then another and another and dress them is matching outfits as they frolicked together during summer nights on the beach.  I didn’t want to avoid bringing up the topic of having a baby brother or sister with my son out of fear that I’d let him down and not be able to give him siblings like his other friends had.

But I have grieved the death of that and come to terms with the reality of how we can make babies.  And while it’s not what dreams are made of, I am equipped for it.  I don’t mind it and I’ve conciously decided the first time and now again to make the best of it.  Scheduling appointments and finally getting to that day brings me joy.  I’ve decided to make lemonade out of lemons because regardless of how it happens I just wanted to be a mom then and now a mom again.  I’m excited.  I’m hopeful.  I’m eager and positive.  I’ve chosen to do all the things-eliminate caffeine and alcohol, clean eating, acupuncture, vitamins, all the old wives tales because they bring me some happiness in how I can hopefully bring another babe into this world.  I want to take my husband, shake himand say “Can you just give me this?”

I’m okay though because I’m surrounded by the best of the best.  I’ve been sent pineapple packaged retrieval and transfer day socks, given pineapple trinkets, and I’ve gotten more check-in texts than I can count today.  My friends, my family, this community, my support group girls-you’re all there keeping the excitement alive for me this cycle.

The first time around, our story wasn’t really out there and so my husband and I had to rely on one another.  We were both experiencing it for the first time and didn’t know any better than to be excited.  This time around is different because my support circle is so much broader, yet we’re somewhat distanced.  I know so many of you are not yet public about this battle, and you may or may not feel like your significant other is getting it at this time, so please don’t hesitate to reach out to me.  PM me on FB or Instagram or email me because it’s time like these we all need each other.

My husband will rise to the occasion.  I’m certain of it.  Most likely after his surgery is behind him because that seems to be what’s holding him back.  In the meantime, I won’t let that keep me down and I will continue to be grateful for my circle.  Fingers crossed we will get the prior authorization.  And God willing soon enough, this will all be just a distant memory.  He’ll say “I’m sorry for being an asshole, babe”.  I’ll say “I’m sorry I told the world you were an asshole in a post”.  We’ll have a good laugh about it and I won’t have to worry about the ball dropping anymore.

 

Baby Steps 👣

In an effort to be raw and authentic and really share what infertility is like, you’ll be hearing from me a lot more this month. That is because we are getting close…really close to something actually happening finally. I’ve been so, so excited. Maybe because it is in the early stages or maybe because I’ve been waiting for a green light to do something, so the fear, anxiety, etc. etc. hasn’t set in. It’s just sheer joy thinking about potentially having another baby. Don’t get me wrong that’s a long stretch and the odds aren’t in our favor, but I just can’t help but smile about it.

That was until last week at an appointment with our RE.  My husband’s next urologist appointment is at the end of the month. At his last appointment we decided that we would reconvene the end of April to schedule the same surgery he had when we had our son. This is better known as our last resort. Our last resort the first time around brought us our son, though, so I can’t help but be hopeful.

I wanted to be proactive and set up a consult with our RE before that appointment to get all my ducks in a row on my end, as to not hold up anything. When I spoke to the nurse she thought that would be the best choice too and so I scheduled it over a month and a half ago. Every day, I’d be overcome with some sense of excitement that it was inching closer. Basically making lemons out of lemonade until 5 minutes before the appointment when my husband decided to throw out some sny comment about it being rushed and him not really understanding why were meeting. Insert 🙄😡. I saw red when he spoke but decided on giving him the benefit of the doubt that it was just his anxiety related to the whole situation getting the best of him. But it made the whole appointment take a turn. My excitement completely replaced by disappointment. My hopefulness completely turned to doubt.

The outcome really was the same: 1) contact RE when my next period starts (which of course all infertiles know will not happen when it’s supposed to because I actually want it to show) 2) go for day 3 bloods and 3) begin birth control thereafter. This is all the prep work leading up to an egg retrieval that if all goes as planned will be aligned with my husband’s surgery in May.  Disclaimer: As all infertile also know, the plan doesn’t usually go as it should.

Yet I left disappointed. Yes, did I get everything I wanted-I did. But it just wasn’t how I envisioned it going. It was supposed to be an upbeat, positive first real baby step to grow our family. I felt as though my husband took that from me and the doctor too. I love him and am forever indebted to him for bringing us Mikie, but he too turned the appointment in a direction I hadn’t seen it going.

At first he couldn’t understand why we were there and then once I explained and advocated he agreed that some monitoring and birth control would be a good idea. He said I was “too anxious” though.

I’m sorry husband and doctor, but this has been awhile coming in case you both haven’t noticed-like well over a year. But maybe you haven’t noticed because you’re not the ones dealing with insurance, calling doctors appointments and pharamacies multiple times a week. You’re not the ones fighting back tears when someone mistakingly thinks you have more than one child and you’re not affected in the least by a pregnant bystander or another pregnancy announcement. You’re not the ones rearranging your life plans-big and small-all revolving around a potential shot in the dark cycle. To be blunt, neither of you are really fighting the good fight.

And maybe anxiousness took over as my excitement was deflated; however you must’ve missed that this is our only shot-literally-at having another child, of growing another human inside me, or giving Mikie a sibling. So I’m sorry if my questions and self-advocacy mistakingky come off as me being anxious, but beware there’s a lot at stake.

Last week put a stake in this process for me and I’m having a hard time bouncing back. I’m starting to worry, now also, that my son is sensing it too by his behavior. I’m sure it’s really all just three-year old related stuff, but I can’t help but to go there. When you’re so close to someone they can’t help but feed off your vibe. And my vibe ain’t good at the moment. It will come back eventually #bitchdontkillmyvibe.

Infertility is killing my vibe big time. I ugly cried a lot in the last week. I wanted to share with you those tender moments, but even the pretty filter couldn’t fix my face. And it feels as though the moment I attempt to get myself back up, I am knocked back down again. First it was a call from the nurse that their prescription wasn’t accepted by the pharmacy. Next I go to the pharmacy because I’ve been told it’s resolved and of course it isn’t. The pharmacist has basically given up on me. Even she can’t deal with this BS of never getting a straight answer from the urologist. It may seem minimal but I’ve wasted so many hours of my life the past 6 plus months dealing with doctors offices, pharmacies, and insurance that could’ve been time and energy better spent. And that’s exhausting. It’s draining. It comes to a point where it’s unbearable. As if not being able to have a baby isn’t obstacle enough, there are just bumps after bumps. Each one seems like another blow , a strong-willed attempt to let you throw in the towel, but then I remember all of you out there still fighting the good fight.

I’m the success story telling you it’s so worth it. I’m the one saying don’t lose hope-it will happen. I’m the one advocating stay positive. But in the moment especially, I am now telling you it’s so hard. So so fucking hard. I just want to know am I having another kid or not? I don’t want to be stuck and re-envisioning month-after-month.  I’m at that point where something’s gotta give-where getting back up is getting harder and harder.

And so many of you are still trying for your first baby. So many of you have had a longer, harder battle to start your family. I know if before my son, someone would’ve described journey to #2 like this I would’ve said “At least you have one.” And while there is truth in that, it still doesnt stop these feelings from surfacing. It doesn’t lessen them and clearly I haven’t gotten any better at coping with them.  Now, on top of it all, I live with this guilt that I’m asking for more. This shame that by wanting #2 so badly makes it seems as though my son is not enough. It’s just not what I had envisioned.

Today’s happenings were just not as I had envisioned either. On a muccchhhhhhh smaller scale, we taped a shoot about Mother’s Day as part of an advertising piece for my husband’s retail business. My three-nager suddenly “forgot” his age, said the best thing I make is a peanut butter sandwich, my name is another Anthony and he loves me because I buy mashems 🙄.

Not what I envisioned him saying and as they asked me questions such as what is it like being Mikie’s mom and what does Mother’s Day mean to you my true responses evaded me. I was caught up in real-life motherhood, sort of disappointed in his behavior, trying to problem-solve the best way to regroup him.

I left kicking myself. I should’ve been sterner. I should’ve let my sister in law go first so he could’ve known what to expect. I should’ve of course mentioned my sentimental jewelry when they asked about homemade gifts. When questioned about being Mikie’s mom, I should’ve been able to encapsulate it in words, not some cliche response. I should’ve said these are the best days of my life and being Mikie’s mom is the greatest gift I’ve ever received. Talking about Mother’s Day I should’ve said for me it’s a day to reflect on how lucky I am to have been given this gift & most importantly I should’ve mentioned that it is a day to celebrate all women. It’s a day to show our appreciation for all the women in our lives who inspire us-our mom’s, grandmothers, sisters, Godmothers. Mothers old and new, expectant and of course those in the waiting. Possibly in a subconscious state I wasn’t equipped for this topic at the moment or maybe it was the fact that I was breaking out in a sweat wrangling my little monkey.  Either way it didn’t go as I had envisioned.

All these visions, you see, both major and minor are keeping me from bouncing back-from restoring my joy as we physically begin to embark on making baby #2. I’ve gotten good at not being mad that I can’t get pregnant the way I envisioned, but that’s about it. All the other things I can’t help but envision and even the slightest hiccup further derails me.

All this said to give you an update on our baby steps and to keep this real AF as promised. Infertility is basically equivalent to throwing every vision you’ve ever had out the freaking window and that’s hard, especially for us as women. So just as I told my son tonight as I kissed him to sleep, tomorrow we are going to do better. I am not going to envision it because that just seems to be a set-up, but tomorrow is going to be better…baby steps.

Hope

Hi friends 👋🏼. I had intended to be more active on here and yet I haven’t checked in since January. To be honest what seemingly should be a slower time of year has been crazier than ever and down time is at an all time low. In some ways the chaos might be a blessing in disguise as it makes time pass at lightning speed and doesn’t give me much time to get “stuck” on infertility.

Nonetheless as we’re on our journey to baby number 2, I’ve come to realize a couple things. I’m not doing myself justice by being absent on here because I have always said I wished I had blogged during our initial journey as a release and a way of not feeling so alone. And here I am now, having this outlet, and not using it to cope.

I’m also not doing any of you justice by being so sporadic in my posts. I had only started blogging as a starting point for a local infertility support group. Now that I’ve gotten that up and running, I’ve abandoned the blogging a bit. But lately I’ve been receiving many messages from ladies who aren’t in Connecticut and I’m doing a huge disservice to you if I am not sharing on here. So I apologize for that, especially if you so kindly have been following along as you’re embarking on your own infertility battle. For those of you who’ve reached out to me, thank you for reminding me why I need to continue on here and I’m so humbled that you’ve found our story as a source of hope.

That’s the power sharing your story can have-giving someone the invaluable gift of hope.  At times in the realm of infertility that’s all we have to hold onto which makes it all the more sacred.  But infertility is chalk-filled with peaks and valleys that even when hope has gotten us through, there’s always a reality check that knocks us back down.

As for our journey to baby #2 I’d say I hit my lowest valley around the holidays.  It’s not an uncommon time for an infertility rut to rear its ugly head as we all know.  But, as we all know even more, there’s no way of controlling it.  When the infertility rut strikes, it comes full force and nothing can really stop it.  Within our support group (which meets the last Wednesday of every month for you CT locals), we’re constantly wracking our brains on ways to cope or suppress the darkness infertility can cause.  And while we’ve yet to find a cure, we’re all in agreement that just staying connected with people who get it, makes it a little more bearable.  Getting someone’s validation that it’s okay to sit a baby shower out or hear that they too often wonder if they’re not meant to be a mom helps us all come to the realization that we are not alone in these thoughts-these relentless, mind-sucking thoughts that not even our significant others can wrap their heads around. Regardless of how long we’ve been on this path, what interventions we have and haven’t done, whatever our diagnosis, it amazes me how we’ve all at some point had the same isolating thoughts and feelings that can only come from the curse of infertility.

So moving forward, my goal is not only to provide that support within the group, but also here, for all of you who have stumbled upon my story.  I don’t believe you’ve done so by chance.  I believe we’re meant to have connected, whether it’s just my words speaking to you or us eventually talking to one another.  In order to do so, I’m going to do monthly recaps of our Infertility Support Group Meetings.  Each meeting I try to set forth a topic to discuss.  Well we are a bunch of women so you know how that goes, but I always leave feeling like I’ve taken something away-maybe it’s a diagnosis I’ve never heard of, a new vitamin that’s been proven to improve AMH, or just something someone in the group has said that left me feeling my hope has been restored.

Yes, even after overcoming infertility, hope can flee from you.  We’ve already received our miracle.  How could we possibly ask for more?  It was too lucky that it worked the first time.  It can’t possibly work for us again.  We are four years older.  Our son in three and a half.  Maybe our window has come and gone.

Its in those moments when I need to hop on here and blog because that is infertility real talk. I am failing you and myself by not using this platform to share how hard the road is.  It’s so much easier, and downright safer, to talk about it once it’s behind us.  In the moment, the emotions are so raw they’re often hard to encapsulate in words.  Yet, you all get what I’m saying and the minute I hear you talk about a part of your journey-the day you found out, your initial consult with an RE, your egg retrieval-I can instantaneously bring myself back to those moments which bring me to tears.  Tears of joy, tears of empathy, tears of relief, tears of hope that you’ll someday be here on the other side.

And when you do get here, which I know you will, I would love to tell you it goes away.  But I’d be lying.  It’s better. Oh so much better as you hold your baby or toddler whom you never knew if you’d ever meet.  But it doesn’t make it all disappear the way you’d think it might.  Somehow pregnancy announcements still feel like a punch to the gut.  You’ll still think that maybe you’ll get a natural BFP when you’re a few days late because how often do we hear those stories the second time around.  The feeling of being “stuck” will soon catch up to you as you see your son or daughter go off to school, as all the other moms have another baby in the backseat.  You feel as though you’re throwing your lifelong vision of three little toe heads in matching outfits out the window and cannot fathom why everyone else on Instagram has that. And you still feel hurt by comments of unassuming strangers like “Time for another”.

It doesn’t go away.  It is a little easier in someways and not so much in other ways.  You still have peaks and valleys of infertility ruts and wonder what it’d be like to not be trying, but not be preventing it from happening.  And your hope is tested, but you have a tangible, precious reminder each and every day of why there is reason to be hopeful when most would say all hope has been lost.

That is some of where my heart and head have been lately.  However after my husband’s appointment in January with his urologist I’m in a much better state of mind.  We have a plan in place.  Isn’t it amazing how just a plan can renew your optimism and alleviate some of that angst?  The timeline is to continue my husband’s hormone therapy for a few months and reconvene at that time to see if any thing has changed and regardless proceed with a second and final TESE. This of course will be aligned, as it was the first time, with an IVF cycle so I’m excitedly making appointments with our RE to get the ball rolling.  It could be as soon as a May cycle.  I want to keep you all updated here, but know there’s a sensitivity in all of this.  I’m sure there may be some things kept private, but I promise to be as raw and real and open about the emotional aspect as I can be-for the both of us.  At this point, I need you just as much as you need me.

I can’t help but get caught up in the realness of it all-the good, the bad, the known and unknown.  My mind wanders to when and how we could announce another pregnancy and then I quickly come back down to planet earth and realize how unlikely another first time IVF cycle success would be.  So basically even if your on your journey to baby for the first time, I still feel your same feelings.  I still think your same thoughts.  You are not alone and my hope is that you know that 💞.

To Teachers in the Waiting

I’ve been MIA guys because…well summer. Busy days trying to cram everything in before it’s over and late nights causing us all to crash hard…making it a feat to squeeze in a blog post. But for me, summer is always a harder time for dealing with infertility.

As some of you may or may not know, I am a speech-language pathologist (SLP). Before having my son, I worked as a school-based SLP which meant I was fortunate enough to have summers off. And while summer months can be a perfect time to re-charge I also found they afforded me a lot more free time to focus on my infertility. There were more free minutes to google. More opportunities to research and read. No alarm wake-ups meant I could peruse Pinterest all night for nursery ideas and baby stuff. It also meant that my mind had more space to go to those deeper darker places, especially as August rolled around.

Here we are, the first few days of August. Back-to-school Staples commercials and billboards of tax free back-to-school shopping already have our stomachs nervously filled with butterflies thinking of the imminent end to summer days. And for anyone who works in a school and is struggling to get pregnant, it also means the dreaded going back to see who has since become pregnant from last school year.

It may sound selfish or ill-natured, but I can assure it’s neither. Rather it’s a culmination of all this built up anticipation of getting pregnant over the summer when we could “just relax” or have extra time for monitoring and bloodwork. Most women who work in schools have been trying for awhile now. Originally the plan was to get pregnant with a spring baby as to not have to go back until summer when he or she was at least six months. Then it got revised to a summer baby and then to any time of the friggin year because I just want a baby NOW. And then here comes August and it hits us smack in the face when the whispering of pregnancy news echoes through the halls and the emergence of glowing faces and rounding bumps burns the sting a little more.

Even now, having overcome infertility and having not gone back to work/school, it’s as if my internal clock knows. Looking back Summer 2013 was the toughest point in my journey. I feel as if somehow my body, my brain, and my heart can’t forget that and all remind me around this time of year. Currently in a very different chapter of my life than then and in the very early stages of our journey to baby #2, some of those same emotions are surfacing. While these “bad infertility days” as I call them are very few in number and mild in nature they still remind me of where I was four years ago. It feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago all in one. It’s almost as if it’s subconscious; as if I’m not really sure if my eyes are welling up because of that, but what else could it be?

For that reason, I can’t help but think of my teacher friends still in waiting.  There’s a disappointment in going back with having nothing changed and yet an eagerness to get started as it feels as if you’re moving ahead at least.  And yet, all you feel is stuck.  It’s as if the rest of the world is moving forward and you’re trapped in the same space in time.  You’re no closer to having a baby than you were when you left for summer break.  Baby limbo is a hard place to be as seasons change and transitions occur.

In this season of change, I, myself am experiencing a huge transition as my son goes off to preschool.  While it will be an adjustment to say the least for us, I know it’s time and we are both ready for this next venture.  I’m grateful for our days spent over the course of the past almost three years. We’ve grown together.  We’ve learned together.  And I can’t help but get teary-eyed thinking about what have been thus far, the greatest days of my life.

With this, August is once again filled with the anxiousness and eagerness I’ve always known it to bring.  As difficult as it may be to start another school year, remember that like my son and your students, you’re resilient.  Not even infertility can keep you down.

Four Simple Words

Earlier in the week, I ran into someone I know. We don’t know each other all that well, but well enough to stop, kiss hello and chit-chat. We know about one another’s kids through Facebook and definitely have circles of friends in common. When we went to embrace one another, we started with the normal ‘haven’t seen you in awhile’ and ‘you’re kids have gotten so big’ banter, and then she said “I pray for you.”

Four simple words with such a profound meaning. She went on to say she follows my posts and reads the blog {so if you’re reading this right now, know how much those four simple words touched my heart}. We went on to other topics, but I couldn’t wait to run over and tell my husband what she had said. I couldn’t wait to share that incredible gesture. He responded of course with gratitude, but he was not nearly as affected as I was. It had almost stopped me in my tracks. Maybe because every night with our son we pray for others who are struggling, some we know initimately & others we barely know. But it never crossed my mind that others out there were doing the same for us. Sure I’ve been told that before, but never by someone outside of my close circle and never so raw and genuinely.

Her words spoke to my heart and it came to me. Quite often, I get messages or am asked personally how someone should respond to their friend or loved one struggling with infertility. I’ve read some other bloggers’ pieces addressing the topic and could go on and on for days about things not to say. I have always wanted to come up with some advice of my own to blog about, but wasn’t quite sure I had the answer myself. Or at least I didn’t until the other day. You see, four seemingly simple words can have such an incredible impact- “I pray for you.” “You’re in my thoughts.” “I’m here for you.”

At Wednesday’s infertility meeting, I brought up what had been said to me and how it warmed my heart. I opened it up to the group to give their input about what they found to be most touching. Essentially, it was not advice that was wanted, but rather some validation or words of encouragement. Through our own experiences, here are some additional things someone struggling with infertility would like to hear.

• I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.
• That must be so devastating/painful/unbearable.
• You are so brave/strong/inspiring.
• Don’t give up/quit/lose hope.
• You will be an amazing/incredible/fabulous mom.
• You deserve for this to work.
• I am sorry you have to go through this.

There’s nothing magic about these phrases. They seem pretty standard, right? But how often do we offer advice (“Just relax…”, “My mother’s sister’s dog’s friend did IVF, “Have you tried XYZ?”) instead of just validating the way the person is feeling. You’re angry because your cycle failed? You should be-I’d be pissed. You’re drained from all of this? I don’t know how you do it. I wouldn’t even be able to function. You cried when you heard so-and-so who never wanted kids is pregnant? If I were you, I would’ve cried too and drank myself into oblivion. You declined an invitation to a baby shower around the time it would’ve been your shower if you hadn’t miscarried? Good for you. That’s not selfish-that’s called taking care of yourself.

The greatest way you can support someone struggling with infertility is to do just that. Support them, encourage them, reassure them that their feelings and actions are warranted. Check-in with them. If they told you they have an appointment in July, they want/need/crave your text to say thinking of you/hope the appointment went well/how’d you make out?

It may appear at times like we don’t want to talk about it.  And on some days that will be true and we will gently let you know.  However the majority of the time, it feels good to talk about it.  You may ask, “How are you?” and get a simple “Good.”  But if you suspect that behind that smile we are in pain, press on.  “How’s everything going with trying to get pregnant?”  Chances are a bottle and a half later of wine {unless we are in the midst of a cycle} we will still be going on about what we’re dealing with.

There’s an understandable uncomfortableness when it comes to talking about infertility.  It’s a sensitive, and often seemingly private topic.  Avoiding it altogether, though, does nothing for us, the ones struggling, and you, the ones wanting to offer support.  If not acknowledging  it in conversation, a simple text, holding of the hand, or hug can help too.

Studies indicate that the levels of depression and anxiety in infertile women are the same as cancer patients. Am I here to compare the two? Am I saying they’re the same? Absolutely not. All I am saying is that there is a significant emotional component that infertility entails, much like any disease.  But your words can have such a phenomenal and lasting impact.

When I reflect back on my journey, I’ll never forget those in my life who’d remember an appointment or send an encouraging quote my way.  Even now, I appreciate when someone checks in to see how things are going and where we are at.  So thank you for being there then, thanks to those of you following along now, and thank you for those four simple words.

Why a Support Group is For You!

If you’re just tuning in, this whole baby blog of mine originated because my main purpose is to get a local support group up and running in Connecticut. No matter where I go, there are flyers for every type of support //addiction, grief, breastfeeding, divorce, raising multiples//. Yet, not even in my OB office or RE clinic, have I ever seen a flyer offering infertility support. Why is that?

The answer is two-fold. First, it’s because there’s shame, embarrassment, possibly religious reasons, but essentially an abounding stigma regarding infertility. Second but why? Why when 1-in-8 couples are struggling does this need to continue to exist? Why are we any less in need of support? Is infertility not a grief or loss? Is it not quantified as a disease?

I often struggled with this myself because I’d say “it could always be worse.” But could it? For me, becoming a mom was my notion of a fulfilled life for as long as I could remember. So while it’s a different battle than something like cancer or death, living a childless life, for me, felt like worst case scenario. There’s still an undeniable pain, a grieving process that comes with infertility, like any diagnosis. I think the more we accept and acknowledge that, the more open we’ll become to receiving support.

Here are 🔟 reasons why a support group is for you:

1️⃣. You can share as little or as much as you’d like.

This is your group, your support system. You can choose to open up as little or as much as you’d like about your infertility. You choose your level of comfort, no questions asked.  And it doesn’t matter where in your journey you are because we can all relate.

2️⃣. Nobody knows what your experiencing other than someone who has or is going through it themselves.

There’s something about infertility that binds us as women. Not even our spouses can fully grasp the daily inner dialogue we struggle with. It’s consuming and exhausting. Hearing that someone else is experiencing the same emotions and anxieties as we are is so validating. A support group would offer you this opportunity.

3️⃣. Your hope can be restored by the success stories of others.

I love to preface our story by saying we had a 0% chance of having a baby without interventions. It makes the girl on the other end think 💭”Hmmm. If they were able to have a baby, so could we.” Success stories are what kept my faith alive that it’d be our turn sometime. I’d google every possible combination ‘success with MFI’ ‘BFP after TESE’ ‘IVF with ICSI success rate” I’d go on an on. I want to be that success story for YOU!

4️⃣. The answers will be there for you.

You won’t have to use Google or an online group of women in the UK as your answer guide. You’ll have a table full of women with a) either the same questions or b) an answer to your question.

Did you do gonal or follistim? Do I have to change the gage on this needle? Where did you do your injections? Did you do them yourself? How many follicles did you get? What were your side effects?

Imagine the satisfaction of being able to ask all and get an answer, without having to wait for a typed reply.

5️⃣. Consider it a ‘girl’s night’ & ‘me-time’
all-in-one.

We all agree we need at least monthly ‘girl’s nights’ and ‘me-time’, right? What a better excuse than attending an infertility support group. It’s a win-win in my opinion.

6️⃣. It’s completely confidential.

One of the common excuses I hear is we are keeping this private. You can do this while still participating in a support group.

There’s no exchange of emails, phone numbers, even real names if you don’t want there to be. Your attendance and what you share is completely confidential. I promise I won’t set up a banner saying “Resevered for the Infertile Girls”. This makes me think, we probably could’ve had our own table in high school. #allgirlhighschoolproblems #yourtableislife #wheremySHAgirlsat

7️⃣. The best advertisement is word-of-mouth.

I know my RE is saying ‘amen’ 🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼 to this. Seriously, though, this is one of, if not the most, important choices in your life. What better way to decide on a fertility clinic, urologist, oR OBGYN than to hear first-hand experiences? Maybe you already have an RE but are not sure if it’s the best fit. Connecticut is small and there’s just a handful of fertility clinic options. Someone’s personal referral might just be the ticket to your destiny.

8️⃣. It takes a village.

Build up your village by increasing your circle. There’s such a sense of relief in knowing there are many there for you when you fall. Use them.

9️⃣. Be part of the movement to spread infertility awareness.

If it’s right for you, we could use our support group to increase awareness and advocate for better infertility insurance statewide. We could become the voice of infertility in CT and a small part of the bigger mission of RESOLVE, our national infertility awareness organization.

🔟.  You could make a difference in someone else’s life.

You could be ‘that’ person for someone just by showing up.  Enough said.

So where my CT girls at & who is with me for a first official support group meeting in March?!