I didn’t know how to even start this post, but the simple act of typing the title conjured up so much emotion that I’m on the verge of becoming a blubbering idiot. The same blubbering idiot I’m known to become when I watch “Beaches” or “Ole Yeller” or “Toy Story 3” when Andy leaves his toys on Bonnie’s front porch and drives away. All of which include salt pouring from my eyes and snot pouring from my nose. It’s so un-pretty that it’s nearly scary when I become a blubbering idiot. And I’m about to become really un-pretty.
People read my blogs for encouragement and laughter, but I have none of that to share today. I’m sorry. My heart is heavy as another month has passed and I’ve yet to become pregnant with a third child. Another disappointment. Another 20 dollar bill wasted on pregnancy tests. Another month older, another month barren.
I turned 34 last week, which only prompted my biological clock to tick louder. It reminds me of the hourglass that my children use when they brush their teeth. The sand falls rapidly- grain by grain- and when the top half is empty, they know that it’s time to quit brushing. I feel like I only have a few grains of sand left in the top of my hourglass. I feel like I’m really close to that cutoff age- the age where my last egg will eventually shrivel up and some doctor will finally confirm that I’ll never conceive again. That last grain will fall and I’ll know that it’s time to quit trying.
Don’t tell me to adopt, please. I’ve already written articles about that. At this point in my life, I don’t feel compelled to go that route. I want to experience pregnancy and childbirth again. I want a blonde haired and blue eyed little boy or girl who resembles the two I already have. I want to name him Whitten. I’m not sure of the girl’s first name yet- maybe Whitney or Wellesley. Maybe I’d call her Welles. Her middle name would be Jane for my grandmother and my sister, I do know that. I don’t care if people find that weird that I’ve named unborn children. I don’t care if people call me selfish for wanting to have my own child and contribute to overpopulation. My heart hurts right now, and I don’t care what anyone thinks about it.
We bought a dog a few months ago. You know about the dog. I’ve talked about him a lot. He pees everywhere and humps stuffed animals. He’s lying on me right now, content with being by my side. I said I bought the dog for the kids, I tried to convince myself that the children needed a dog- but I bought him for me. I bought him rafter my miscarriage because I was grieving and wanted a baby- even if it was a puppy. I can’t believe I just confessed that to my blog readers, but there it is.
My youngest child, my sweet boy, starts kindergarten in two weeks. In two weeks, the child who has depended on me for everything the last five years will be leaving. Not really leaving- not going to college or moving out of the house, but it feels like he’s leaving. He will officially be gone five days a week, depending on some kind woman to teach him things and take him to the bathroom and give him hugs when I can’t. I know it isn’t entirely true that I won’t be needed anymore, but it feels that way right now.
Maybe that’s why I want a baby so badly. Because if I’m not a stay at home mother, then what is my purpose? What am I supposed to do with my days if I’m not tending to my children? I could volunteer or find a hobby or spend the time writing, but I want to be a new mother again. I feel like I should be devoting my time to a newborn. I should be sleep deprived and scrubbing spit up off the couch cushions. That’s what I feel like I’m supposed to be doing right now. That’s what I really want to do right now, although it sounds absurd to want to put myself through all of those sleepless nights again.
But I’m barren. And no one knows why.
Every test, every procedure, every consultation says there’s no reason I shouldn’t be pregnant. We’ve shelled out thousands for the doctor to shake his head and sigh and try to figure it out. Unexplained infertility, that’s what it is. No one can explain it- not the doctors or the internet- and certainly not me. And I’m the type of person who needs explanations.
I’m supposed to be having a baby this month. This is the month I was due if I hadn’t miscarried last November. I would have a newborn in my arms when I send my baby boy off to kindergarten. I could possibly be lying in a hospital bed right now clenching the blankets as contractions come, instead of writing this blog post about infertility. That’s how it was supposed to be. I’m supposed to have my third child this month- maybe right now.
I know this post makes no sense. It’s not a body of literary genius by any means. It’s just me rambling. I can’t think clearly what to write when I’m feeling this way- feeling heartbroken. Feeling deprived. Even feeling useless in some way. Maybe it’s a pity party. But right now I just need to feel sad. I need to vent. I don’t want to be cheered up right this moment. I just want to cry and be left alone.
The advice I’ve received over these last three years of infertility- I’ve heard it all. All things happen for a reason. In God’s time. It’ll happen when you least expect it. Maybe it isn’t meant to be. You’ve already got two healthy children, can’t you be content with that?
I don’t want to hear that anymore, honestly. I’ve heard it. And heard it. And heard it again. I’m not even asking for advice by writing this post. I know I should keep my chin up. Move on. But the fact of the matter is that I’m overwhelmed with emotion right now. Another birthday.Struggling through the month I was supposed to give birth. Sending my oldest to 4th and my baby to kindergarten. It’s all taking it’s toll right at this moment. At this very moment it’s all pooling on my chin in a mixture of salt and snot.
Maybe I’ll never have another child. It’s hard for me to type that- it’s hard for me to let go of the hope and the countless prayers to God for number three. It’s hard to put that image of that child, Whit or the little girl with the middle name of Jane, out of my head. It’s hard to let go of that dream. But maybe that’s exactly what I’ve got to do .
I just really don’t want to.
At this moment, I’m broken. My female plumbing is broken. As is my spirit.
And I hate being broken.
I’m sorry. I wish I could hug you and give you a tissue. I wouldn’t even talk. I’m so sorry.
Oh sister, I can relate to what you are going through. We struggled so badly with baby number 2. It’s such a difficult road to walk. I told friends who tried to understand that I yearned for “solace”. I wasn’t even sure what I meant but that word seemed appropriate for all the sadness I was feeling. So the solace I’m offering you tonight is a simple prayer for God to be near and for you to feel Loved.
Susannah, I will join in prayer with you that your desire of having another child will come true. You are an awesome mother! Sometime, we just have to vent and cry to get things off of our “chest.” There were many of days that you and your mom were there for me when I needed that most. I hope you know I am always here for you! Love you girl!
I understand grief way to well..So with that being said, I know there are no words, but I can pray for you and with you! Love to you sweet girl.
I had to take Clomid to get pregnant with both of my girls (ages 10 and 2). We wanted to have another baby right after Aina, but chemo for breast cancer put me in menopause at age 40. I’m praying for you. Much love, many hugs…
Oh this hurts. I felt this when my youngest went to kindergarten and again when she left for college. The baby we wanted in between never came. This may or may not happen for you I am sure you have found that everyone has advice. I don’t really, but I will say that all sorrow passes even while it sucks. If I could hug you I would
I had a tubal pregnancy. I lost my baby and a tube. The doctors said I wouldn’t be able to have any with one tube, so I became discouraged and gave up. When I stopped trying so hard and stop stressing out, I became pregnant. After that I had two more after. So don’t give up! Keep trying and everything will work out! Trust God!
I totally get it…I had two miscarriages myself and I dreaded talking to people afterward. Because if they didn’t say something, I felt awful… and if they did say something, it was something I had already heard a million times and didn’t want to hear again…and I felt awful. Sometimes there is just nothing someone can say or do because it hurts too bad and it’s just too personal. It sucks. For what it is worth, I will be praying for you. The least I can do for someone who makes my days lighter and makes me laugh all the time.
I’m so sorry that you’re hurting. No words. Just internet hugs.
Baby girl quit trying to get pregnant. I heard a lot of stories about people spending thousands of dollars to have a kid and it not work. Then after stopping everything they get pregnant later without doing anything. Nothing is wrong with you everything is in God’s time not ours. Stress and self doubt will only make it worse. You are the strongest person I know 🙂
I wish I had some words of wisdom that would repair your plumbing and your heart. But I don’t. It is healthy to visit grief and profound sadness…just don’t make it your home. Our children are grown and have their own lives. They keep in touch but our role has changed. A few years ago I lost my job and so was forced into early full time retirement. Life changes are tough. When our role changes we are lost for a time trying to decide where we fit in these new circumstances. Sometimes we have to reinvent ourselves. I pray for comfort for your spirit and answere to your prayers. In times of great turmoil I have to repeat to myself… “His power is greater than my need.”
First world problems. Why don’t you collapse in the sweetie aisle and kick and scream until you get your sweeties? Give me a break. People have cancer and aids and starve to death.
Others’ pain does not negate or invalidate your own. As a human being, we should feel compassion for those in pain and give grace. Praying the pain you hold in your heart is eased.
At no point in this post did she ever compare her struggle with fertility to someone with cancer, AIDS, or world hunger. She never once said her problem was worse. Instead, she shared openly and honestly the pain she is struggling with at this moment in her life. Think what you want but if you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say anything at all. I hope you are fortunate enough to never experience heartbreak and if you ever do, I pray no one treats you in such a heartless way!
Jane, you are literally the worst person in the world, you troll. Go back inside your trailer, light your Pall Mall, and quit stealing your neighbor’s internet. You are just mean and hateful and if you have kids, I hope they don’t turn out as spiteful as you are. Jackass.
We struggled for years to have baby #1, and tried unsuccessful for four years to have baby #2. Like your son, my daughter is headed to kindergarten in the fall, and I always assumed I’d have a baby or toddler at home when that happened. Alas, it’s not to be. I’m now over 40 and experiencing other health issues, so I’m pretty sure that my ship has sailed. It’s a grieving process for sure, but I am learning to accept that our family, no matter how small, is complete. Infertility sucks, period.
I just want to hug you. That’s… All I have to say.
I, too, am lost in puddles of salt and snot. I feel ya. As I sit (with dog by my side) and order school supplies for my 3rd grader, I remember how hard it was to get through the “month of delivery” after miscarriages. I am sick of the comments/attempts to comfort from everyone. Nothing makes this feel better. In October, I will have watched 39 years of sand fall through my hourglass. And still, I wait. It sure is nice to read your feelings and know that others understand that I just need to be sad.
My daughter is now 18 years old, but is 12 and 15 years younger than her brothers. Don’t give up. Hoping you find peace and comfort.
I love you. I am so broken hearted for you, dear friend. I remember last November- I remember. I hate that you have to be in this place…
I will keep lifting you up into His arms… praying that there will be a day when you look back through these days and see His Hand on it all.
Trust in the Lord with all thine heart,lean not to thy own understanding ,HE will direct your path ! TRUST this to Him,Suzannah ! HE knows the right timing,and your future ! Enjoy promoting your new book, write another ! Let God handle this !
I know all the feelings so well. I could’ve written this post before. Prayers for your hearts desire to be fulfilled. ❤
Hi Susannah– in this blog you mentioned doctors have labeled the infertility as unexplained. It’s true sometines, even when both partners have working ‘parts’, a pregnancy either does not occur or does not make it to term. I’m so sorry for your pain during this difficult time. I hope you can take comfort in knowing this is quite a common problem for couples and there are ways to try to conceive after such a diagnosis and fertility history. How about IUI (intra uterine insemenation)? Maybe Clomid in combination with IUI? I know it’s expensive, but maybe IVF would be something to consider if the iui doesn’t work out. I hope your reproductive endocrinologist has given you guys a few options to consider because even at the ‘advanced nmaternal age’ of 34, it’s still Not too late to make your dream of a 3rd child come true. Wishing you the best of luck & health! Hugs from California! ~Inna
I know you’re probably getting all kinds of advice and I know it can be overwhelming but I have to add my two cents for what it’s worth(maybe just 2 cents). I’ve been thinking about you ever since I read this post. I too had problems conceiving. My first 2 children came as expected, when I wanted them, then 3 years I started to try for the 3rd. Nothing, another year went by…nothing. Finally after 5 years he came. Same with the 4th one, 5 1/2 years for him. I just recently saw on the news a story about a woman similar to me, she couldn’t get pregnant after a couple of kids and no know fertility problem could be found, she found out she had thyroid problems. She had it checked and went on thyroid medication to get it regulated and boom…she became pregnant. A bell went off and made me realize that could have been my problem too. After I had my kids a smart Dr. (Woman) had a hunch and checked my thyroid. Sure enough I was hypo-thyroid. Long story short…maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have yours checked. It’s easy! Just a thought.
Thanks Rachel!! I actually just had it checked a few days ago! Waiting on results. That just may be it.
Hi Susannah,
I realize this is an old post of yours, but it really strikes me. See I saw your kindergarten video which was perfectly timed for me, for my son started kindergarten this year. And yes I did cry and want to turn around to get him after dropping him off. Facebook brought me here, I was interested to read that you are a write. I am an aspiring writing, hoping to one day publish a book.
Anyways back to this post. It struck a chord with me because we have been trying for over a year to have my third child. The first two were easy, my husband just had to look at me funny and bam we were pregnant. But after my second I got an IUD, which worked great for us…until we decided to try for another. After I got my IUD out I had a cycle which seemed normal then went 7 weeks without anything, so of course I thought YES! That was easy! And after 8 (yes 8) pregnancy tests and a trip to a doctor who had terrible bedside manner I learned I was not in fact pregnant. So without going into further detail, thanks for writing this because it is everything I have been feeling. I’ve tried to not think about it because I am still young (I’ll be 29 in December) and I have time. But I long to hold a little one in my arms again too. What makes it harder is all my friends at church and it seems everyone around me is pregnant or has recently had a child.
I’m sorry for being long winded. But thank you!