It has been just over one year since I have ended the Clomid, and I know with certainty it was the right decision to end the treatment. While it technically worked, my eggs were more viable, and we learned more about what was going on in my body through it, God showed us after the 8 months it was just not the end of our path, it was only part of it.
I hadn't really shared much here about the Clomid part of my journey other than the initial treatment explanation, then the first month and last month. For those of you who don't know, Chlomid/Clomifene stimulates 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, you are ovulating 2 eggs per month, doubling chances of getting pregnant each month.
And also doubling all cycle symptoms.
And that was on the lowest dose, not only did I go up in dosage 2 times over 5 months, staying on the highest for 3 months, but the specific variation of this medication I was on builds up in the system so symptoms get stronger and stronger the longer you are on it. Not to mention, the last 2 months of treatment I also started taking a really high quality set of vitamins and they had a tremendous effect on my egg vitality (as demonstrated by the sustained viability I mentioned here), but also compounded the strength of every monthly cycle symptom.
So there I was, From February to April, feeling like I had rocks for ovaries for at least a week before ovulation and during ovulation. Then I had a sore abdomen (like I had done 100 crunches every day for the last week) up until PMS started. And PMS went from about 4 days to 7-8, and where I previously only had 1 or 2 symptoms that didn't bother me all that much most months, now I had 3-4 symptoms way more intense than before. And then, TMI, but my period went from a very light flow, with very minor cramping, for 3-4 days to a very heavy flow with 2 days of really uncomfortable cramping for 5-6 days. All in all, I had maybe a total of 7 days each month that I wasn't in some sort of discomfort.
And of course, there was the estrogen fueled emotions. Granted I am a very emotional person every day of the month, but my PMS emotional sensitivity and quickness to cry is actually pretty tame compared to some women (no judgement, each person's hormones and emotions is there own, just clarifying my PMS emotions are not what some might think of when they think of stereotypical PMS). So, when I began to be much more easily frustrated, offended, sentimental and generally crying for no real reason, I knew the extra estrogen was messing with me. Unless you call Ellen giving a family a free new van a valid reason to weep uncontrollably. I don't, normally.
But that became my new normal. For the last year, this is the one symptom that refused to let go when the rest of the effects of Clomid did. It's not a lot of fun trying to stay composed when you are really fine but your hormones decide they want to have a complete melt down. And it's not just sniffles or dabbing your eye crying, it's often full on ugly cry and when I cry like that I get red and splotchy. I'm not into hiding my emotions but it's hard to convince others of that when you look like a wreck and are saying you are all good!
Interestingly enough I didn't even really realize this until the last few months. I've had a really hard year, some deep depression moments, some seriously frustrated and angry moments, some really sad moments of loss. But when a pregnant friend kept apologizing for her heightened sensitivity and constant tears, blaming it on pregnancy hormones, it hit me! That's they key! My hormones are still out of wack from the Clomid! Yet, I didn't know what to do about it but wait it out.
Then, a friend who is very into natural treatments for everything thought to mention something to me about the medicinal benefits of essential oils, and through conversations and research I realized I might have an answer to my hormonal imbalance in something as simple as an essential oil. I started applying the oil 2 days before ovulation and already noticed a reduction in those symptoms and now I'm about to see how it fairs up against my PMS, but the biggest change is that my hyper-sensitive crying has reduced drastically! In the first few days I already noticed a huge difference! I can't wait to see what a body in better balance feels like!
Saturday, May 2, 2015
Sunday, April 19, 2015
To Mothers, From an Un-Mother
I was forwarded a blog post from a great friend who happens to be a mother.
It is from the perspective of a mother, who never had the struggle of trying for children, all 3 came easily to her. She writes about an important lesson she learned the first pregnancy, when she was full of joy and broadcasting it to the world. Some people just can't share in that joy, no matter how much they would like to.
She made several really great points. One being, infertility is often suffered in silence, so very often those around them are unaware of the pain they face, over and over again, each month. It is mostly a hidden grief so many people are oblivious to the impact of their declarations of parent-appropriate emotions. Second she acknowledged her own struggle with empathy even once she did know, and admitted her desire to have her feelings trump those of the infertile friend. This was her own personal experience but one I know that isn't an isolated situation.
The summary of the blog was to encourage mothers in particular to be sensitive, understand the continual pain, and to try not to do anything that just adds to the grief. I appreciate that sentiment, thank you. But I really hoped my friend who had sent the post hasn't been burdened with guilt for her sharing pregnancy joy and toddler trials. So now I wanted to offer my own words to mothers from the other side, and hope other people battling infertility will consider these words as well.
Over the nine years of trying without success to be a mother, I have encountered many different responses from women who are mothers but I have also encountered quite a few infertile women as well, and I have learned that mothers are not the only ones at fault for the hurt feelings that happen around infertility.
~We who fall under the label infertile, even for a season, sometimes choose our feelings over friendship, and we act like we have cornered the market on pain and strife.
~We who can't be labelled mommy can let jealousy, envy and resentment cloud our ability to see mothers as just woman who have different struggles than us, but struggles just the same.
~We who have empty wombs and arms can be so harshly judgemental for no other reason than our target was able to get pregnant and give birth, something they have no more control over than we have control over our inability.
The blog author mentioned she wanted her joy to trump the sorrow of the one who couldn't be a mother, but at times I have wanted my struggle to trump the struggle every mother goes through.
It took awhile for me to realize how unfair that was but it finally dawned on me, I don't compare any other pain, I don't begrudge someone dealing with anorexia because I have a problem with over eating. Hardships of motherhood are just as difficult as the hardships of infertility. I'm sorry to say my final lesson that hammered that home was learned at the expense of my sister, who had her own journey through infertility for 5 years, but when she had her first son and it wasn't an easy birth or newborn phase, and she didn't even complain, but as she shared her difficulties, my immediate reaction was to resent that her gratitude didn't automatically overcome her distress. It was then my eyes opened to just how insensitive I could be to moms, how insensitive a lot of infertile women could be to mothers.
I realize it's part of the society we live in, people tend to fall into ignorance to the impact of what they say or elevate the importance of our own feelings, but that doesn't excuse it, or help maintain healthy relationships. And there seems to be an increasing hyper sensitivity, rather than just compassionate sensitivity, around this area in particular.
Granted, it would be nice to have parents consider my feelings before they say something like 'if you want kids so bad you can have my brats', or 'have you tried _________, I hear that works', or 'why don't you just adopt', but I never want a friend to feel like they have to walk on egg shells around me or feel like they can't share the reality of their life with me, because then I am not being a good friend, or a friend at all really. My feelings are not more important and do not negate the feelings of my friends. It hasn't been as hard to change how I choose to react and feel about it now that I am aware.
And maybe I'm also really lucky that I have pretty amazing friends who really do respect and honor my feelings, and feel them with me, and so it makes it easy to value them over holding tightly to my pain. I am a lucky girl.
It is from the perspective of a mother, who never had the struggle of trying for children, all 3 came easily to her. She writes about an important lesson she learned the first pregnancy, when she was full of joy and broadcasting it to the world. Some people just can't share in that joy, no matter how much they would like to.
She made several really great points. One being, infertility is often suffered in silence, so very often those around them are unaware of the pain they face, over and over again, each month. It is mostly a hidden grief so many people are oblivious to the impact of their declarations of parent-appropriate emotions. Second she acknowledged her own struggle with empathy even once she did know, and admitted her desire to have her feelings trump those of the infertile friend. This was her own personal experience but one I know that isn't an isolated situation.
The summary of the blog was to encourage mothers in particular to be sensitive, understand the continual pain, and to try not to do anything that just adds to the grief. I appreciate that sentiment, thank you. But I really hoped my friend who had sent the post hasn't been burdened with guilt for her sharing pregnancy joy and toddler trials. So now I wanted to offer my own words to mothers from the other side, and hope other people battling infertility will consider these words as well.
Over the nine years of trying without success to be a mother, I have encountered many different responses from women who are mothers but I have also encountered quite a few infertile women as well, and I have learned that mothers are not the only ones at fault for the hurt feelings that happen around infertility.
~We who fall under the label infertile, even for a season, sometimes choose our feelings over friendship, and we act like we have cornered the market on pain and strife.
~We who can't be labelled mommy can let jealousy, envy and resentment cloud our ability to see mothers as just woman who have different struggles than us, but struggles just the same.
~We who have empty wombs and arms can be so harshly judgemental for no other reason than our target was able to get pregnant and give birth, something they have no more control over than we have control over our inability.
The blog author mentioned she wanted her joy to trump the sorrow of the one who couldn't be a mother, but at times I have wanted my struggle to trump the struggle every mother goes through.
It took awhile for me to realize how unfair that was but it finally dawned on me, I don't compare any other pain, I don't begrudge someone dealing with anorexia because I have a problem with over eating. Hardships of motherhood are just as difficult as the hardships of infertility. I'm sorry to say my final lesson that hammered that home was learned at the expense of my sister, who had her own journey through infertility for 5 years, but when she had her first son and it wasn't an easy birth or newborn phase, and she didn't even complain, but as she shared her difficulties, my immediate reaction was to resent that her gratitude didn't automatically overcome her distress. It was then my eyes opened to just how insensitive I could be to moms, how insensitive a lot of infertile women could be to mothers.
I realize it's part of the society we live in, people tend to fall into ignorance to the impact of what they say or elevate the importance of our own feelings, but that doesn't excuse it, or help maintain healthy relationships. And there seems to be an increasing hyper sensitivity, rather than just compassionate sensitivity, around this area in particular.
Granted, it would be nice to have parents consider my feelings before they say something like 'if you want kids so bad you can have my brats', or 'have you tried _________, I hear that works', or 'why don't you just adopt', but I never want a friend to feel like they have to walk on egg shells around me or feel like they can't share the reality of their life with me, because then I am not being a good friend, or a friend at all really. My feelings are not more important and do not negate the feelings of my friends. It hasn't been as hard to change how I choose to react and feel about it now that I am aware.
And maybe I'm also really lucky that I have pretty amazing friends who really do respect and honor my feelings, and feel them with me, and so it makes it easy to value them over holding tightly to my pain. I am a lucky girl.
Sunday, April 5, 2015
Results of Testing
I just came across a blog today that echoed where we are at on this fertility journey and it feels great not to be alone, because it is very rare you find yourself in the exact same place as someone else on this road.
Gone through rigorous fertility testing - check
Track with Fertility Awareness Method - check
Take Chlomid - check
Improve overall health with vitamins, etc. - check
Not pursuing any other forms of becoming a parent - check
After pursuing for so long, no longer pursuing any intentional conception techniques - check
And the reason for stopping is the same too. God said so.
She sounds a lot like me. Dealing with the need to participate in the process to make the waiting easier. Tired of waiting. Tired of it not being our turn. Trying to trust and obey God.
We've both come to the place of understanding that all our trying doesn't guarantee anything. In all these years it has done nothing to increase our chances, despite that statistically speaking they should have increased our odds. We've both learned that God is a much more worthy place to put our trust.
Neither of our desires for children have decreased, not in the least. Both of us still experience the pain of the prolonged period of patience. But we embrace His purpose for us, along with it His peace. It's not easy, and a lot of people don't understand, but my relationship with God has grown tremendously through this journey, which ultimately is the best result of this testing I could have ever hoped for.
Gone through rigorous fertility testing - check
Track with Fertility Awareness Method - check
Take Chlomid - check
Improve overall health with vitamins, etc. - check
Not pursuing any other forms of becoming a parent - check
After pursuing for so long, no longer pursuing any intentional conception techniques - check
And the reason for stopping is the same too. God said so.
She sounds a lot like me. Dealing with the need to participate in the process to make the waiting easier. Tired of waiting. Tired of it not being our turn. Trying to trust and obey God.
We've both come to the place of understanding that all our trying doesn't guarantee anything. In all these years it has done nothing to increase our chances, despite that statistically speaking they should have increased our odds. We've both learned that God is a much more worthy place to put our trust.
Neither of our desires for children have decreased, not in the least. Both of us still experience the pain of the prolonged period of patience. But we embrace His purpose for us, along with it His peace. It's not easy, and a lot of people don't understand, but my relationship with God has grown tremendously through this journey, which ultimately is the best result of this testing I could have ever hoped for.
Monday, December 22, 2014
All I Want To Be Is Done
In a way it was just a small thing. It was a month I didn't expect to get pregnant anyway. I was sufficiently distracted during the time I expected to get that news.
Then suddenly it became a huge thing. I won't go into details but suffice it to say I feel like my body is toying with me. I went through the emotional rollercoaster of believing I was pregnant and then not pregnant 3 times in 8 days. With each time the hope just grew and grew and grew.
Because it's Christmas, and like a few other annual celebrations, it is a reminder there is still just two of us in our family picture.
Because it's 13 days away from our nine year anniversary of chasing this dream.
Because this is the year we finally stopped trying....to help God....with conception.
Because 2014 was supposed to be the year, and it wasn't only I who heard it this time.
I'm at the point I just don't know anymore.
I don't know what to do.
I don't know how to feel.
By now I know 2015 will not magically make me 'all better'. But I'm still done with 2014.
Then suddenly it became a huge thing. I won't go into details but suffice it to say I feel like my body is toying with me. I went through the emotional rollercoaster of believing I was pregnant and then not pregnant 3 times in 8 days. With each time the hope just grew and grew and grew.
Because it's Christmas, and like a few other annual celebrations, it is a reminder there is still just two of us in our family picture.
Because it's 13 days away from our nine year anniversary of chasing this dream.
Because this is the year we finally stopped trying....to help God....with conception.
Because 2014 was supposed to be the year, and it wasn't only I who heard it this time.
I'm at the point I just don't know anymore.
I don't know what to do.
I don't know how to feel.
By now I know 2015 will not magically make me 'all better'. But I'm still done with 2014.
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Just Say No To Drugs
I have now been off Chlomid for 4 months.
The side effects have been gone for 2 months.
All except 1 that is.
Without getting into TMI, the vitality of my eggs has stayed almost as strong as when on Chlomid. Yay!
This means we are definitely choosing not to go back on Chlomid. Although, we were pretty certain I wasn't going to go back on again anyway. Not after how much pain I was in on the 8th month of it built up in my system.
Now we wait.
Wait for God to do His thing.
The side effects have been gone for 2 months.
All except 1 that is.
Without getting into TMI, the vitality of my eggs has stayed almost as strong as when on Chlomid. Yay!
This means we are definitely choosing not to go back on Chlomid. Although, we were pretty certain I wasn't going to go back on again anyway. Not after how much pain I was in on the 8th month of it built up in my system.
Now we wait.
Wait for God to do His thing.
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Hope is my Strength
Well we are just on the last effects of the last of the Chlomid today.
After 8 months of riding that rollercoaster we (well, I) will be taking a break from the drug.
For at least one month.
Maybe longer.
Maybe forever.
And I'm ok with it either way.
I'm at this place again.
Where I wonder if our own attempts are just prolonging God's intervention.
He's told me our baby will bring him so much glory.
I think he doesn't want to share it :)
I'm ok with that.
When my impatience doesn't interfere.
And so I'm at peace not going back on the drugs after the break.
Because I'm confident in the 'Yes' he's promised me.
The promises have only increased in the last few months. Greatly.
I have no reason to doubt.
Not even 8+ years of reasons will make me doubt.
I have hope.
Hope is my middle name.
Not really ;) but I've adopted it as an identifier of myself.
I will be marked by hope.
"those who hope in the Lord will find new strength.
They will soar high on wings like eagles.
They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint." Isaiah 40:31
After 8 months of riding that rollercoaster we (well, I) will be taking a break from the drug.
For at least one month.
Maybe longer.
Maybe forever.
And I'm ok with it either way.
I'm at this place again.
Where I wonder if our own attempts are just prolonging God's intervention.
He's told me our baby will bring him so much glory.
I think he doesn't want to share it :)
I'm ok with that.
When my impatience doesn't interfere.
And so I'm at peace not going back on the drugs after the break.
Because I'm confident in the 'Yes' he's promised me.
The promises have only increased in the last few months. Greatly.
I have no reason to doubt.
Not even 8+ years of reasons will make me doubt.
I have hope.
Hope is my middle name.
Not really ;) but I've adopted it as an identifier of myself.
I will be marked by hope.
"those who hope in the Lord will find new strength.
They will soar high on wings like eagles.
They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint." Isaiah 40:31
Saturday, October 5, 2013
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.
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.
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