The Count

I have been watching numbers all month.

I start at one.

I don't like waiting for this  day one.

Except when I'm really waiting for day five.

Can't have day five without day one.

Day five I started my five day treatment.

Treatment to pump up the Estrogen, and pump out a souped up egg.

Then I count symptoms.

With those accounted for we fit in as many times we can do our part.

Our cue to stop is my temperature jumping 0.2 degrees F above any other temps I've had all month.

That's when I start at one again.

Time to count to ten.

Ten days of this risen temperature means my progesterone is high enough to maintain a fertilized egg until implantation.

Check.

Time to count to eighteen.

By sixteen days the egg should have implanted if fertilized and the temp stays high, if not fertilized the progesterone lowers and temp drops.

Day seventeen.

This is the longest I've had high temps since tracking eight months ago.

Eighteen is supposed to be as good as a positive pregnancy test.

Day eighteen.

I count my thermometer lose a few degrees, but still it meets the criteria of reaching day eighteen.

Yet.

I know if I take a test, it won't be positive.

Day nineteen.

Sure enough, temp has dropped again.

I made peace.

Figured there were no guarantees.

It just wasn't going to be this month.

Then the cramping became almost unbearable.

I counted off several advil to survive the day.

And I wondered, but didn't want to speak it.

I thought allowing grief would mean I didn't trust God, after I promised him on day eighteen that I did.

New day one.

I had no choice but to acknowledge miscarriage number six.

None have ever been as physically painful as this one.

And that made it hard NOT to grieve.

And I had to express it.

And I realized that my voice didn't make the trust disappear.

And I started counting my blessings.

I think this means the drug was working, just too low of a dose to increase viability enough.

And so start all over again.

Waiting for day five.

Full Cycle

Life has a funny way of coming full circle, in many different ways. Mine has come full circle in my fertility.

It's almost exactly five years ago that all our tests were completed at the Heartland Fertility Clinic (well, all their tests, which isn't exhaustive as I've since found out) and came up with no negative results. While my hormone tests all came back within normal ranges, the doctor speculated because I was overweight that my insulin could be driving my Estrogen too high and my body was thinking I was already pregnant, and that while being overweight was my only symptom of PCOS, he thought taking the typical treatment drug for it, Metformin, was my first best option to 'fix' the problem. If my insulin levels were too high the drug would lower my insulin levels to trick my Estrogen levels into lowering to a normal level as well. He said if that didn't work I could come back and talk to him about another drug, Clomid, with the disclaimer it brought the chance of multiple births.

The problem was, he hadn't diagnosed a problem. I didn't see any test results, but initially he had said all my hormone levels were normal. But in the face of no other answers I took it. After a few weeks Sean and I sat down to talk about it and realized a few things. First, I was already trying to lose weight (and succeeding) in case weight was the issue, and so on the drug we wouldn't know when my body normalized it's cycle on it's own. Second, we felt like we were given a generic band-aid solution (it was prescribed to other people I know who have very different fertility problems, and it wasn't a viable solution for them either) and didn't feel comfortable taking a drug when we didn't even know if it was actually a solution for us. I was feeling ill taking it, which I would have gladly suffered through if I knew this medication was what I needed. But I didn't. So I stopped taking it.

I felt so uncared for by the fertility clinic that I didn't even bother to go back to talk about it. The other drug wasn't explained as to how it might be better suited to my issues, what it would do to help my cycle, and with the huge red flag warning, we were not any more eager to try that option. We had only been trying for 2.5 years, maybe we just needed more time, not multiple births.

So, fast forward five years. And all the new information those five years brought. And a new doctor to take new tests, some not done before. And still all the test came back with no negative results. One key piece of new information though was that I had 'likely' miscarried. Doctors won't use that word unless there was a pregnancy test first, but I know what my body went through. But she still took that under consideration, and after considering all aspects came up with a treatment that actually made sense for my body, she talked to me about a drug that could help me in two ways. She called it Clomifene and said it would stimulate the release of a stronger egg, a more viable egg, so that if it was fertilized it had a better chance of surviving. This stronger egg that was stimulated would also be a second egg, I would likely be ovulating 2 eggs per month, doubling my chances of getting pregnant each month. Yes, that meant there was a 10% chance of twins she said. I said, sign me up! I've always wanted twins!

I found out through a family member a few more things about the drug and even with the side effects, I feel like this is the treatment for me. While I still don't have a diagnosis, this medication makes sense with what we understand about my cycle, and it's not based on what feels like guesses and one-size-fits-all treatment. This is the treatment I have been waiting for. That's another thing I found out from this person, this drug is also known as Clomid. I literally have been waiting for THIS treatment for 5 years!

And yet, it doesn't bother me. I know God had this timing for a reason. There are any number of ways He could have directed me back to Heartland to seek further treatment. He could have added some compassion to the very clinical Dr. in the first place, and given me a more personal explanation of the drug. Even I can see reasons God didn't let it happen then. Even with all the challenges five years has or could add to having children, I know God's timing is perfect. Even down to the month I can start taking this drug, His timing is perfect.

As some of you have read here previously, another perfectly timed component of this story has been my tattoo. I'm not sure why this tattoo keeps weaving into my fertility but once again it has. My tattoo was scheduled for August 4th, finally, and when I showed up my artist was in bad shape. The receptionist said she was sick but she came out to talk to me personally and I could tell she was dealing with something more than physical sickness, there was a level of emotion and stress that were overwhelming her, and I understood that it would not be good for either of us to do this that day. But she knows how very long I've waited for this tattoo and so she rebooked me on a day off she had booked so I wouldn't have to wait very long, only until September 7th. As it should happen, the timing of my new medication will not work in August, with my appointment missing the start date by only one day, and my trip to California very perfectly timed to interrupt conception as well, so my next window to start the treatment is likely September 6th or 7th.

Go figure. I'm really not surprised anymore. God evidently likes bringing things full cycle in my life.

Be Still My Heart

Already a perfect evening.

And then, I hear a shout.

"Lori! It's your rainbow!!"

My eyes fly to the skies.

And.there.it.is.

In all it's glory.

The widest rainbow I've ever seen, I could see where both ends touched the ground.

The brightest rainbow I've ever seen, every colour visible and brilliant.

And then.

Another proclamation.

"There are two! It's a double rainbow!"

Really? Could it be?

The first rainbow I've seen since I asked God for one.
And it echoed the promise He gave my friend....a double blessing.

Be still my heart.

The hope is taking flight again.

Test Results

So I had tests run in February to see if a reason for miscarriages could be determined and I finally had my appointment with the referred OBGYN today.

Everything is fine.

Well, from those tests, that's what she's able to determine. There is only one test left that can say otherwise. So, next month we schedule that test for blockages, and if necessary, get rid of blockages. If no blockages there is one last option within the realm of what Sean and I are willing to do in regards to treatment. It's a drug that you take in pill form that increases ovulation every month so that you release 2 eggs...hopefully doubling your chances. She says the most you can have is twins, or very unlikely, triplets.

Hmmmm.

Twins.

I always wanted twins.

Double blessing?

Happy Mother's Day

I haven't been shy in the last few month of sharing some prophetic words given to me about children. I was before January, but I learned just because I may not have understood the revelation 100% didn't make it any less real or true, and I am no longer concerned with what other people think if it doesn't happen like 'it was supposed to'.

Prophetic words/visions are quite a new experience for me. Before I met my husband, I didn't think that happened since Revelation. He was the only one I had ever met who 'knew' things before they happened. Then I heard a little more about it in our Church circles, but I thought they were a spiritual gift that only certain people could get, only Prophets could get. Ever since I've learned about listening prayer though, God has been proving that is not the case over and over again for me in the last 2 years. It's still pretty unfamiliar territory though in my family.


So, anyway, on Friday my mom took me out for lunch while she was in Winnipeg for appointments, we get to do this 1-2 a year and it's a nice time just the two of us to talk. She's been reading my blog faithfully since I began it (Hi mom!) and has read about the rainbow promises through my friend. She decided, that since I'm open to hearing about words/visions from God she would share the one she had for me. Since this is a new experience for her, she wasn't sure she should share, she asked for advice from other prayer warriors who advised she would know when and if to tell me. She took my blog about my latest promise as a sign to share.

My mom was praying in March for a couple who was finally pregnant after nine years, some complications with getting sick in the 8th month. These prayers didn't include/touch on my situation at all. Anyway, as she was praying for this couple she heard 'Your daughter next year.' And she knew this was meant for me about having a child.

A timely gift from my mom, and God, just days before Mother's Day, one of the hardest days of the year for me. I know God is making it very hard to be doubtful, as this is at least the 4th time someone has said God has told them I will one day have children in the last 3 months. Before mom's words, I had enough faith renewed I could have waited a few more years. Now I'm pretty sure I won't have to!

I have a Promise

Just about exactly one year ago, I received what I have come to believe is a promise.

I asked God about my renewed hope. Was it because a baby was still in our future?

Yes, it was.

A first glimpse of the promise.


"What was the hold up?" I asked.
I learned I needed to do things right this time.
I needed Sean on the same page.

So, our anniversary weekend, on the very last day on the drive home, I asked the question I dreaded the answer to.

To my surprise Sean sincerely expressed a genuine desire to have children of his own finally!


To me, that was another promise from God. He changed Sean's heart. What other reason could he have for changing Sean's heart instead of mine?

Just over a month later, I was meeting with God in the mountain meadows I love to escape to in my mind. Just like every time, we sat amongst flowers, in brilliant sun shine and brilliant white clothes.
But this time was different.
I had a very pregnant belly showing underneath my beautiful white sundress.
And I did become pregnant, with expectation. :)

Another promise.

Just a few months later, I impatiently asked WHEN?!

I was promised January.


And I was given January.

His promise was true, that I can't deny.
But. 
The doubts. Oh, the doubts.
What a weapon those doubts can be.

They started sometime before day 26.
How could they not?
Day 26 had only ever been reached once before.
It had been several years, but in my heart I had felt this all before, it was fresh and raw and the thoughts raced.
Not quite convinced I asked for a sure sign.
My 'go-to' sign of a promise, a rainbow.
Yes, in the middle of January in Winterpeg, I asked God for a rainbow because my doubts clouded my faith. I even laughed, 'now that's a challenge for you God! I guess you'll have to give me a sundog or something!'

I didn't get a rainbow.
And a few days later I had even more reason to doubt.

Then I doubted myself.
I must deserve this somehow.
I know in a past life (figure of speech, not literally) I had been in a relationship where I did not treasure life, I had once thought I was pregnant and rather than face the shame I toyed with the idea of ending the promise God was going to give another life. It never came down to that, but I seriously contemplated that this one thought, dwelling on that one temptation, was enough to earn me bareness.

I picked up an Infertility Devotional book that had been a gift a few years earlier.
I had managed 3 whole pages before setting it aside until now.
But now, something told me to look again.
In it's pages, God confronted my doubts head on, and my self-punishment too. He had taken my whole punishment already. I wasn't being punished. My doubts were human, especially a scarred human, who he made logical and always contemplating ALL outcomes.
My doubts did not become reality.
I am not that powerful.

So. Where did that leave me?
And then I realized, I was STILL in HIS hands!  
He was still God.
Still in control.
He hadn't taken away his promise.

Yet, I couldn't hope.
I couldn't bare to listen for fear of what promises I may hear.
In a way that was my acknowledgement.
Yes, I believed there was still a promise for us.
But I couldn't grasp it.
Couldn't claim it.
I ran from it.

I told God.
I'm sorry, but I can't bare to hear you right now.
I told no one else.
After baring my soul about everything else.
After years of seeking God's presence.
After encountering God in such a personal way.
Who would run from that?
I would.
This was my secret.

So.
God decided to tell his own secret.
To my dear friend.
As she drove one day, about a week after our loss, she saw a sundog with a rainbow on one side.
She asked, "Lord, who is this promise for?"
"Lori" was the answer that came back.
As she praised and thanked him she heard,
"Look up again."
Now there was a rainbow on both sides of the sundog.
And she heard, double blessing.

And, once again, I had a promise.
Whether I wanted it or not.

But I did.
Want it.

The hope didn't immediately come back.
It was a slow float.
Rising on temporal gusts rather than steady wind.

March 2nd, the day after our 10th wedding anniversary.
5 weeks after our loss.
We renewed our vows.
Renewed our promise.
And in Sean's vows he said;
"I can see our unborn children in your eyes."
A double blessing.
Because with his promise, HIS promise grew strong again.
Hope grew strong again.

I have a promise.

Even though I walk through the valley

I have used the analogy that life is like a roller coaster quite often, as this post, and this post, and this post, and this post will attest. The parallels are obvious, you get some highs, you get some lows, you get thrown for a loop quite regularly, sometimes you are exhilarated, some times you want to throw up, sometimes you are terrified. As of today I have a new roller coaster analogy.  Sometimes momentum is not enough to get you up the next hill after you've swung through a deep chasm, that's when some added strength is needed, you need that chain to help pull it up to the next peak.

Fertility has been my 7 year long roller coaster ride. The same roller coaster every time, waiting to be able to finally get off and move on to the mother of all roller coasters (haha?). I finally got so sick from the ride I got off of it in 2010. And I say, 'I got off' because I truly felt like Sean wasn't on that ride with me anymore by that point. I think I stopped letting him in the cart with me somewhere along the way. He hadn't really been there for his enjoyment, it had been all for me. And that's a huge part of why I felt sick of the ride, I had no one beside me to share the experience with. But then, almost 2 years later, I felt like I could be ok trying to get back on again....IF Sean was desiring to share the ride with me. And he was! And having him beside me as we started along these tracks again was invigorating, the lows were spent in anticipation of the highs, and in the loops we clung to each other and felt safe throughout. It was more than centrifugal forces keeping us glued to each other, there was a new, industrial-strength bond holding us together and it made the ride so much more wonderful than before, more than I had ever imagined.

Our ride took us to a pinnacle we hadn't reached, together, before.  Maybe it was the exhilaration, maybe it was the high altitude, but we were euphoric.  This was it. Until unexpectedly the ride dive bombed into a spiral downwards. Gravity had no mercy on us, and as we sunk into the lowest valley I had that familiar sickening disassociation of leaving my heart and stomach to free fall behind me.

At first I tried to do what I had done before. Yes. Before.

I had hit that pinnacle, and then sunk to that valley 4 times before. Some times I told Sean after the fact, some I didn't tell him at all. Each time I tried to spare him, or maybe myself. I had trouble understanding what had happened and the abyss it left me in, and I didn't want Sean to have to feel it too. But I also worried he wouldn't feel it at all and that possibility hurt even more. I didn't really tell anyone else either, not sure if sharing would make it more real, or less real, so I swallowed my screams and chugged back up the next hill as best I could.

But this time, I was NOT alone in that cart. I could not hide my despair from the mirror who was glued to my side. And then, I knew I didn't have to. Every thing I felt he felt too. That made it easier and harder all at once. I didn't have to wonder if this was normal to feel so much pain. But I did have to see the heart break on the face of the one I love most. When we hit the bottom and embraced, it was the most beautiful intersection of pain and love I've ever known. And even though the abyss was still there, I had an anchor.

The momentum of life barely allowed us pause, and the push to move forward was persistent.  But we were resistant.  We did not want to leave that grief behind so quickly and easily. We resisted the pull of God, trying to draw us closer to Him. I saw Him on the next peak, and while I was grateful I could see there was another peak, I wanted Him to come down to my valley. I wasn't ready to move out of it yet. I still felt my insides had not yet come out of free fall, my heart had just landed with a thud and it felt 10lbs heavier. I still felt this hollow pit, but it was more than that, it felt vacant where just days before it had not. How that was possible I wasn't quite grasping. The physical vacancy was infinitesimal, but add to that the weight of love, joy, hope, anticipation, and I began to feel my expansive abyss was not only external but internal as well.

It is exhausting, resisting the forward momentum, masking the resistance. And the weight of two heavy hearts in that cart just made it seem so tiring to face chugging back up the next hill. The uplifting would have to be external. We finally realized that the least we could do was stop tiring ourselves out by pretending we're fine. When we did that, on that next peak God gathered those we reached out to and used their hands to start pulling that chain and lifting us up that hill. And once that was taken care of, He came down to the valley and shared in our grief.

It's been four days since I miscarried a 26 day old baby.  For 10 days I claimed my promise from God. For days I watched pro-life friends share the development of fetuses under a month old on Facebook, and I dared think of a tiny heart beat. For 6 days Sean and I began to hope enough to plan how we would get to share our joy with all of you. We revelled in this amazing 10 year anniversary gift for us. We were excited this child would get to share it's birth celebrations with it's daddy each year. We rejoiced we could share this experience with some of our best friends who announced their pregnancy only a month ago. We planned out a baby dedication that included every person who has prayed along side us for that day. Mostly, we just basked in caring for each other in a new way, sharing something indescribably special, just between us two. It's a lot to mourn.

We haven't always had people in our lives we could trust with the chain. They've spoken empty words leaving me/us more hurt than before we shared, we thought they might be uplifting but trusting the chain in their hands they let it go and we slid back into the valley. But it's different now, as we've stepped out in trust we've been blessed by such love and comfort from those God has placed in our lives. I wanted to share here too, knowing what blessing and healing has come from our vulnerability and willingness to share the bad as well as the good. And, we need more hands on the chain. I know those of you who read my blog have previously proven yourselves to be uplifting and so I trust you with this.  We're not quite out of the valley completely, your prayers are appreciated.