Baroness von Barrenness

Patient Voices: Infertility

Wow - these audio commentaries on infertility on the New York Times really hit the nail(s!) on the head. Every single thing these women had to say resonated with me. I hope you'll take 10 minutes to give them a listen.

What to say to someone struggling with infertility

This is a topic that's often on my mind because of the frequency with which it pops up on an online message board that I still visit daily for women struggling with infertility. The insensitive things said to us, usually by people who mean well and are actually trying to be helpful, is astounding. But too often when these things are said to us, we don't know how to react or what to say in response. Too often we don't say anything because we don't want to offend the offender. All too often we know that the person will become defensive and won't hear what we're trying to say. And so the person never even learns that they've hurt our feelings or made things worse.

The fact that I seem to have overcome my infertility doesn't mean that I no longer think about this. On the contrary, I'm now afraid that people will hold up my husband and I as an example -- poster children for overcoming infertility -- and have us in mind when they say some of these unintentionally insensitive things to other women or couples who are struggling.

And so I offer you:

What not to say to someone dealing with infertility:

1. "You just need to relax," or "Take a vacation."
This is probably the most frequent "advice" given to a friend, daughter or sister who says she's having trouble getting pregnant, but it's a falsehood. Infertility, even unexplained infertility, is a medical condition. Just like a lump in the breast, it will not go away on its own by trying to ignore it. A romantic getaway to Hawaii will not improve a husband's sperm count. A relaxing massage will not heal endometrial scar tissue in a uterus or fallopian tubes. Trying not to think about getting pregnant will not miraculously restore a hormone imbalance. By learning about how her body is supposed to work, charting cycles and/or seeing an OB/GYN or reproductive endocrinologist, a woman can diagnose the cause of the infertility and get treatment for it. This is much more useful in overcoming infertility than attempting to ignore it.

2. "Don't worry. It'll happen."
This is almost the same as #1, but with the added bonus of trying to reassure the woman that she will achieve pregnancy someday. But the sad truth is that it might NOT happen. There's no such promise or guarantee, and the woman already knows that.

3. "Have you considered adopting?" (May or may not be coupled with "There are a lot of children out there who need good homes.")
If a woman confides in you that she is struggling with infertility, trust me that she has already considered ALL options available, including adoption. If she doesn't say explicitly that she's considering it, then she has probably already ruled it out as an option for her personally - at least for now. She doesn't need you to point out all the options available to her.

As for suggesting she adopt because there are lots of kids out there who need good homes, consider for a moment whether or not you yourself have considered adoption or whether you prefer to have children of your own. Infertile women resent the suggestion that because they may not have the option of having biological children, that the responsibility for finding homes for orphans should fall on them.

4. "As soon as [insert couple's names here] adopted, they got pregnant."
First, consider how many adoptive parents out there HAVEN'T gotten pregnant on their own. Again there's no guarantee that anything will help someone get pregnant.

Second, what you are suggesting is that adoption should be used as a means to achieve the end of having one's own biological children. How fair is that to the adopted child? Shouldn't adoption be a means for creating a family, to the benefit of the adoptee(s) as well as the adoptive parents?

5. "God has another plan for you."
This is a really tough one, because you're likely trying to be reassuring. But first consider that the woman you're trying to help may not believe in God or may not have the same beliefs that you do. (And religious beliefs are a conversation to be had completely separate from the one this woman wants to have with you about her infertility.) In that case she's likely to dismiss this suggestion, which makes it not a very helpful suggestion, so don't bother.

Second, a woman who is confiding in you because she is STRUGGLING with infertility obviously really WANTS to have a child of her own. She doesn't want to hear that her desire isn't a valid one or she somehow doesn't deserve to have her desires and dreams fulfilled. That's not very reassuring.

6. "This is God's way of saying you're not supposed to be a parent."
Congratulations, you've just insulted the friend or daughter who's come to you for help. (Yes, people who think they're trying to be helpful really say this with shocking frequency.) Do not EVER say this to a woman who's confiding in you about her infertility, or be prepared to defend yourself against a punch in the nose.

What SHOULD you say to a woman struggling with infertility?

1. "I'm so sorry you're going through this."

2. "I'm here for you whenever you need to talk about it. Let me know if you want me to ever check on how you're doing and bring it up, or if you would rather bring it up yourself."
Your friend wants to know that she can turn to you, but there will be bad days when you might catch her off-guard and she won't want to talk about it.

4. "What can I do for you?"
Your friend might just want to know whether or not she can talk to you when she's feeling frustrated or when she learns anything new about her condition. She may even need your help to drive her to or from appointments.

I didn't want this post to come off as a preachy lecture. But I've heard of some truly insulting and insensitive things said to infertile women and hope that this will help prevent even a few occasions of that happening. Thanks for reading!!!

Happy "Wish-day" to me!

This might be a little attention whore-ish of me, or at least a little shameless cross-posting and self-promotion, although promotion doesn't seem like the right word either. But there was something that seemed fitting for both my [blog name removed] blog (which now also deals with my pregnancy and is read by friends and family) and this blog (which is still relatively anonymous and deals now with pregnancy after infertility/subfertility - and things I don't want my father to read about like shaving my hoo-ha).

Anyway, I thought the readers of this blog might like to read today's post [link removed - if you know me, you'll be able to find it] about an anniversary of sorts over at the other blog. I hope you like it.

Christmas pageant revisited

We're back at my in-laws' again for Christmas this year. I clearly remember the children's pageant portion of the service last year. So many adorable children - most Korean, some from Korean/white mixed marriages like my own. All beautiful blessings, and all so completely wrapped up in the joy of Christmas and in singing and dancing in front of their families and community. And, feeling sorry for myself, I just started crying. In the middle of church. My husband and my in-laws were thoroughly confused and concerned, and I couldn't stop myself. I would never know the joy of watching my own son or daughter up there.

We attended again last night and I thought for sure I would find myself crying again, this time for the joy of our blessing. But in spite of how damn cute those little Korean kids were, I didn't shed a tear. I was too overwhelmed by the hilarity of their "singing" and the littlest one trying to play the triangle by beating it into submission.

At this point I don't believe this pregnancy is a "miracle" or anything like that. In battling our infertility I never blamed God for our problems. I did stop going to church after our first failed IVF, but that was because I couldn't stop myself from crying during baptisms which, it felt at the time, were a weekly occurrence. I never felt that He turned His back on us. I felt no bitterness toward Him. I just figured that compared to everything else going on in the world, our inability to conceive was close to the least of His worries.

So why would I credit Him now with what has happened - what is likely a result of extremely fortunate coincidence of timing and biological fluctuation. If God doesn't smote me down for this  viewpoint before I actually give birth, I do suspect my view will change as soon as I hold my baby in my arms for the first time. Until then, I'm still enjoying not crying at the drop of a hat.

Because I'm full of Christmas joy...

...just thought I'd share a couple fun links sure to be appreciated by the subfertility crowd:

• RE office snowflakes (courtesy of A Little Pregnant)
• Infertility snowflake patterns (also courtesy of A Little Pregnant)
• IVF Barbie (courtesy of So Close - possibly originated elsewhere)

Merry Christmas!
-The Barrenness

p.s. Yes, I'm totally Pregnant Veteran Barbie.

Reflecting on our fourth wedding anniversary

Our fourth anniversary! In some ways it seems so much further away than that. This isn't the ideal way to celebrate, with Charles in Poland, but I wouldn't trade the opportunity to be pregnant with having him here this one day. And I know he would feel the same way.

I looked through photos today from the rehearsal dinner, wedding, reception and some from our honeymoon in Korea. I hadn't realized how much of our wedding I've pushed myself away from emotionally because of infertility. We were together almost nine years before we got married. We waited part of that time because of school and part of that time trying to ensure a stable financial situation. But we really didn't move to get married until we were ready to settle down.

As much as our wedding was a celebration of our love and making a public commitment to each other, it was about joining our two families to start one of our own. Maybe more so than the other reasons.

For that reason I was so happy that our parents put together the slide shows of family photos for the rehearsal dinner (even if I was worried about the length). And that Charles' parents presented the hahm with his grandparents' Bibles and halmoni's norigae and the blue and red silks for my Mom to choose from blindly (boy or girl?). And I was proud to perform paebaek and catch so many dried dates in my scarf. (And later to see the very tree they came from at Sanso, his family's burial ground.) It really was a ridiculous number of dates - probably closer to the number of eggs retrieved in our two rounds of IVF than would be even physically possible to conceive and deliver in the course of one marriage. But it was important and it was fun and it was everything our marriage represented.

But in coping with our infertility, in trying to come to terms with the idea that we might never have kids of our own, I distanced myself from that aspect of our wedding. In my mind it was a great wedding, a fun party surrounded by family and friends, a beautiful occasion to celebrate our love. But I'd forgotten about the family focus until I looked through those photos again today.

And it's so nice - to finally be pregnant on our anniversary - to be able to reclaim those memories and the feelings of that special day.

And it helps ease my mind, too, from some of my concerns about giving birth here - about the care I'll receive, about the birthing process, about missing out on some of the traditions that go with having a baby in the States, about how in the world we're going to prepare here all by ourselves without the convenience of a registry and showers and Babies 'R' Us and advice from knitting buddies who've been there.

In five, ten, 20, 50 years, it probably won't matter if I used the Bradley method or an epidural. Or that we didn't have a nursery to decorate in a house of our own. It'll matter that we have a family and lived to see the dreams of our wedding day realized.

Now let's just hope everything goes well with the doctor Friday and maybe we can start sharing the good news with our families. Because this man has waited too long to have a son or daughter.

-The Barrenness

Dutch health insurance

The Netherlands recently began requiring ALL Dutch citizens to have health insurance. Above and beyond the most basic level of insurance we're required to purchase, we have three options for additional coverage. The highest level appears to include full coverage of a first attempt at IVF. We may no longer be considering IVF, but I'm guessing it means that it would also cover diagnosis of whatever is actually wrong with me and attempts to treat it before resorting to IVF again.

The additional cost of this highest level of coverage? About $22/month. !!!

That's not much considering the cost of doctor's visits, tests, hormones/medication, etc. But I'm also trying to pick through the fine print regarding what prescriptions are and aren't covered and what women's health care treatment is like over here.

-The Barrenness

Growing up

We gave the Dutch the email equivalent of a verbal acceptance of the offers. It'll take a couple weeks for them to get confirmation on our work visas, though, and we won't give notice at our current jobs until then.

In the meantime, Mr. Baroness got a different job offer yesterday from his old boss. I think it's slightly less than he's making now, but about the equivalent of what we'd be making together in the Netherlands. It would be a better career choice, although not ideal. There's a chance we won't get the visas, and Mr. Baroness can't stall him for weeks while we wait to know about the visa status. I suspect he'll take the risk and turn down the offer.

I've been trying to wrap my head around who I've become as an adult. I think I used to be much more self-confident when I was younger. I wasn't necessarily any more outgoing or outspoken, but I thought more highly of myself. At work in particular I feel like I have so much self-doubt. It doesn't help that I'm so indecisive. I look around me and people seem so much more self-confident - arrogant even. So assured that their opinions are the right ones, and everyone else is wrong, if not inferior. But I do wonder if it's just a good facade. I know I try to appear more confident to my co-workers. I'm far more self-effacing with friends. Maybe everyone else has as much self-doubt as I do?

And yet - I'm planning on going and living overseas for a while in a country where I don't even speak the language. How do I reconcile that? Part of it is Mr. Baroness. I know we'll be in this together. Even with the job - we'll be working with each other, and I know he can help guide me along.

I do wonder where my self-confidence went, though, or why. Sometimes I think Mr. Baroness might be the cause of that, too. Not that he has made me think less of myself because of how he's acted toward me - but because of the example he's made of himself that I don't usually feel I measure up to. Or maybe it's the six months I spent looking fruitlessly for a job in San Francisco. Or maybe it's humility taught by my parents or Lutheranism or growing up in the Midwest.

A friend from high school sent me a really interesting email the other day. She'd been reading through my old blog entries about trying to conceive, and she wrote about how much she admired me and wanted to be like me "when she grew up" (or something like that). She seemed to have read some more admirable qualities into my writings than I would have thought were there.

Part of it is, with something like dealing with infertility or IVF, people who haven't gone through it either don't understand (or don't try to understand), or they make it out to be something even bigger or braver or more courageous than it feels to the person who's gone through it. In my case, there wasn't really a choice to be made at all. It was a matter of accepting what we needed to do to try to conceive.

Regardless, her email made me think that maybe I need to listen more to others and believe them when they compliment me like that.

-The Barrenness

Half-baked philosophical ponderings

I don't believe in fate. Or destiny. I wouldn't even say that I believe God has a master plan for ME. (There are just too many MEs down here.)

But I can't help but wonder if this opportunity to go to the Netherlands isn't related somehow to us not having children yet. If we did have a child, it would undoubtedly change the way we approach this decision. Same thing for my career ambition. If I truly loved this job or this line of work, the decision would be different.

Maybe somehow it's meant to be?

-The Barrenness

Taking charge of my fertility?

It's been about three years since I decided to go off birth control and read Toni Weschler's book, Taking Charge of Your Fertility. I would still recommend the book, even though I've still not been able to conceive.

When I first started charting my cycles, my temps were really pretty random, and it was often difficult to discern when I'd actually ovulated.

I stopped charting last year, sometime amid our two IVF attempts. When I restarted in November, I was surprised to find that my temperatures were much steadier. I thought maybe my body was stabilizing somehow. Maybe the steady temps were an indication of normal hormone levels and that with enough time, I would develop good quality eggs and have healthy ovulations. Maybe we might be able to conceive on our own!

But despite the steady temps, one thing appears to have worsened. My luteal phase still varies, and this last cycle it was at most 8 days (difficult to tell because the travel and time change affected my temps).

So what to do next? I'm getting more settled into my new job and could see about starting up with a different doctor. But there may be some implications from Mr. Baroness's potential job change (more on that to come), and I want to see how that pans out first.

In the meantime I'll just bide my time charting new cycles and tracking data for whatever next steps we take.

- The Barrenness