Sunday 31 January 2016

Overwhelmed

I should have been 12 weeks pregnant today. We should have been spreading the news far and wide. I may have even been starting to show. Instead I'm back to trying to stop myself turning into a bitter, jealous woman each time I see my friends, or even strangers, interacting with their kids. This is really hard and it doesn't seem to be getting any easier. I'm really struggling with my moods. One minute I'm laughing and joking with friends the next I'm yelling at Neil for yawning! And after moaning when I first miscarried that I wasn't crying I'm now finding it hard to stop the tears.
Yesterday I went to a friend's hen do for the afternoon then played board games with hubby and others at our churches board game evening. I had a lovely time and I really enjoyed myself. But at the same time I found it really hard. I felt like I had to wear a mask. It was like I was laughing on the outside yet crying on the inside. The grief was trying to show though. I found my speech was really effortful and felt like my lips and tongue were moving much more slowly than they should. I found myself making several silly mistakes and taking ages to remember words or get the right word out.
In addition to the grief of the miscarriage a friend lost a very long battle with cancer a few days ago. Everything together has left me feeling unbelievably overwhelmed. I've also worked over 60 hours in 8 days with many many dramas to contend with. So I'm exhausted in every sense of the word.
At church this morning there were a couple of testimonies of amazing healings. I found it really hard to listen to them. I believe God can heal and it's great when he does that for others. But we prayed for 4 years for a baby. God performed healing miracles in my body in preparation for pregnancy. Then my first ever pregnancy ends in miscarriage. Many people prayed for years for my friend and yet she never received her ultimate healing. I love God but I have many questions just now.

Friday 29 January 2016

Put yourself in my shoes

I'm currently reading Hannah's Hope by Jennifer Saake. It expounds the story of Hannah from the bible and uses it as a basis for a bible study around the subject of infertility, miscarriage and adoption loss. Hannah's story runs parallel to the authors own experiences and she picks out perspectives for different people involved in a couples journey through infertility. Last night I read the chapter that talks about how friends and family can support a couple. It stated out from a perspective of how I, as an infertile woman can be affected by things people say or do that don't mean to hurt or offend but do. It also talked about how to deal with the times that people deliberately flaunt their fertility in your face. This was in reference to Hannah's treatment from her husband's other, very fertile wife, Penninah. It basically said that you don't know what secret hurts the other person is carrying or the reasons behind their behaviour.

At the end of each chapter is a section aimed specifically at people supporting couples through this journey. This chapter ended with some direct advice for friends and family about what to do or say and what not to do or say. Reading it I found I agreed with almost every word and it was exactly what I want to say to my amazing support network. I couldn't put it any better myself, so I won't! I'm going to quote most of the last section. I'll leave out the bits that are not relevant to our situation. If you're reading this and you know us please remember these aren't my words but they are what I want to say to all you lovely people! If you don't know me hopefully you can use it as advice to support a friend or to pass onto friends if you're a fellow traveler on the infertility journey.

"Communication is imperative. You can have all the general guidelines in the world, but you can best minister to me by getting to know my heart and learning my triggers for rejoicing or heartache. When in doubt, ask me directly.
In some ways you are in a " no-win " situation. If you ignore me when it is time to send out baby shower invitations or birth announcements, it may make me feel all the more removed from normality. Yet if you do include me and I'm having an especially hard day, I may feel you have been insensitive. One idea might be to send me the same baby shower announcement that you are sending to all of our friends, but inside include a handwritten note acknowledging that you know this might bring me pain. Let me know that I am free to come or not, as I so desire, but that you love me and are praying for me.
Miriam wisely relates,

My grief has made me vulnerable, thus sometimes I misunderstand what you say to me or take your words the wrong way. Please be patient with me. I do not want you to feel like you can't say anything to me or share from your heart, for I desire for you to talk to me and be my friend now more than ever! Please do not always wait for me to take initiative to get together and talk. I need you to be the one reaching out to me. It reassures me that you haven't stopped caring about me and still desire to be with me even when it's tough. And please, don't just assume things about me during this time of mourning. Ask me and let me share with you what I'm learning.

If my miscarriage was "early", don't think my baby was any less a person, any less my child, any less significant, then if he died later in life.
I know that somehow God can work even this for His good purpose, but right now I need you to validate my grief.
Above all, please keep me in your ongoing prayers. And every now and then, call me on the phone or drop a note in the mail just to remind me that you are praying.
(Please visit www.hannah.org/resources/friends.htm for additional resources.)"

Wednesday 20 January 2016

I wasn't expecting that!

The pain of this miscarriage keeps surprising me. I've just spent a lovely afternoon round at a friend's house. We had a lovely chat and I had some lovely times with her kids. Such a good distraction and a lovely change from these four walls. So I was really taken by surprise when I found myself walking home beset by uncontrollable sobs. I worked out the most painful thing for me at the moment is seeing parent child interaction. My heart aches for that, even when that interaction is getting cross and annoyed with your kids. When I got pregnant I thought I'd finally get that interaction for myself. Well that pregnancy ended in miscarriage so now we're back at square one. I don't know if we'll ever get to be parents, I believe we will but I don't know it for sure. The one real chance we had has been ripped away from us. I visit this friend loads and have done all through our battle with infertility. In fact she and her husband have been the only people I could face setting interacting with their kids at particularly difficult times for us. I guess that's why I was surprised by how upset I got today. I'm not going to stop seeing this friend as it's good for me. I guess I'm going to have to get used to getting upset at unexpected times. I found it really hard today to come home to an empty house. I'm glad I went today but it's made me realise how cruel this situation is. For four years I've been walking round with a massive unmet desire to be a mother. At the end of last year, after a traumatic year had tossed that desire around, I thought that desire was finally going to be met. I started to feel pregnancy symptoms and made plans. Now I'm suddenly not pregnant again and don't know when or if I ever will be again. The last time I was at this friend's house I was still pregnant. As it happens baby was already dead but I didn't know that and was battling that day with morning sickness, probably due to the hormones I was taking. It struck me today that now I'm back to being the not pregnant friend of Mummy. This is rubbish!

Sunday 17 January 2016

Bye bye baby

I had surgery on Thursday to complete my miscarriage. I'm almost recovered physically so we've decided this weekend is about saying goodbye and starting on the road to emotional recovery. We had a little private moment yesterday letting a balloon into the sky and praying for our little blob. That needs to be just between Neil and I and God so I'm not going to share any details of that here. But as part of our weekend of saying goodbye we thought we'd try our hands at a joint blog post. Hopefully it will give some insight into the ways something like this affects men and women differently.
What has been the hardest thing about this experience?
Cara: For me this miscarriage has taken me completely by surprise. We did IVF with PGD to lessen the risk of miscarriage. After the miracles preparing my body for IVF and the difficult year we had with treatment I thought once I got pregnant that would be it. I don't understand why God would let us go through all this to finally give us a baby after 4 years then take it away. I know he's promised us we'll have children so how can I believe God keeps his promises when this promise has been ripped away from us?
Neil: The hardest thing has been supporting Cara. Of course we've both lost a baby, but she has all the physical side to deal with as well. And while I do want to be a father, she has the mothering instinct hard wired in a way men can't hope to understand. If we ever find ourselves in the same position again, I am definitely staying with her in the hospital!
What, if anything, has made this experience easier to deal with?
Cara: It's been amazing finding out just how many people have been through something similar. It's a horrid thing but there's something comforting about knowing we're not the only ones going through this.
Neil: As Cara has mentioned in a previous post, last weekend we were at a special event for Christian couples facing infertility. The love and support we received was incredible, but in addition the timing (we booked on the event long before we knew about the miscarriage) helped remind me that God is in control, however hard that is to believe when it's all happening. Also I should say that my work have been very understanding and given me all the time off I need.
What are your hopes for the future?
Cara: Obviously I hope for a baby to come from at least one of our remaining IVF embryos. More than that though I hope that I can learn how to trust God again and rest in him to find my comfort. I know he is faithful and keeps his promises and I want to believe that is true for us again. We're having a break from treatment because I want to believe that God will be in the next treatment, I'm not there yet.
Neil: I know I'm going to be a father one day, because God has told me so. How that comes about - IVF, naturally or adoption - and when, I can't know. And I'm sure there's a lot more heartache to come, although I really hope we don't have to go through this past week ever again! Hopefully, as well as eventually having children of our own, we'll be better placed after this to minister to other couples going through something similar.

Sunday 10 January 2016

This journey is really, really, really rubbish, and that's OK!

Yesterday we went to an amazing day of talks, worship and ministry for couples going through infertility. I thought I'd write a post outlining some of what I learnt and took away from the day.

We are not alone
It was a powerful and also slightly uncomfortable experience sitting in a room full of strangers when you know something highly intimate about each of them just by their presence there. Listening to couples share different experiences of this wilderness journey was liberating in a way. I think I have quite a good support network among my friends and family but there is a unique support that can come from people who are there or have just been there. Infertility and miscarriage is such a raw, painful experience it was nice to not have to explain why I'm struggling.

Only God knows when life begins
One of the sessions dealt with some of the ethical considerations faced by people going through infertility, particularly related to IVF. One of the main questions addressed was when life begins. This was one of the main issues we wrestled with when deciding whether to do IVF. Particularly as we weren't able to only fertilise a small amount of embryos due to needing the PGD genetic testing. The answer given to this question in the session was that only God knows when life begins. We need to make our own decision and be able to live with that decision. Then God will honour us in that decision even if we're wrong. Given that we still have 2 embryos frozen that have inconclusive genetic results this was refreshing to hear. There is no right answer. We need to decide what to do with them and be able to live with that decision. Then God will honour that decision.

Jesus is bigger
This was a line in one of the worship songs we sang. I know that Jesus is bigger than this miscarriage but I didn't believe it till yesterday. Jesus is bigger and hence with his help we will get through this horrid experience. I also realised that Jesus is bigger than fear. We did IVF with PGD to negate my high risk of miscarriage due to my genetic issue. Now our first ever pregnancy has ended in miscarriage. I definitely had a huge fear of miscarriage. Now I'm in it that fear feels justified. But Jesus is bigger than my fear and he will carry us through. I'm also finding I'm reverting back to fears and phobias I lived with for a large part of my life. Particularly my phobia of being sick and the related fear of eating, particularly in public places. It made eating in the hotel on Friday and conference centre yesterday a bit of a challenge. I think it's a coping mechanism. I've not really cried for my baby yet. It's like my brain is saying 'let's be scared, we know how to be scared and anxious. We don't know how to feel this grief.' Yesterday, in the midst of my food anxieties I realised Jesus was bigger than my fear. It didn't mean I could eat without anxiety but it did mean I could trust that God was big enough to carry me through the fear.

Even when we're annoyed and angry with God we love him anyway
This was a big thing for me. I am angry at God, really angry. This baby was the result of 4 years trying and came at the end of a traumatic year battling through IVF. This was our God given baby. Now he's taken that baby away. How can that be anything but cruel? I can't, at the moment reconcile that cruel act with a loving God. I'm sure I will but not yet. But the message yesterday was that even when we're feeling furious with God we still love him. Because that's how relationship works. It made me realise that I do still love God, even though I'm angry with him. I hadn't realised both things could be true at the same time.

Infertility struggles can go on for decades and it's really, really rubbish. But that's OK!
This was my main take home message from the day. I hope it doesn't go on for decades for us, and due to our age it probably won't, but it might. We might have a child, we might not. It's OK to be a mess, to find it hard, to struggle. It's OK to not know how to cope. We will find a way through this, with or without a child but it's OK to struggle through it. We need to make sure we live life during the struggle. For me I'm going to train for a 10k race once I'm recovered from the miscarriage. It's my way of having a different focus for a few months and get healthy in the process. Then we'll be good to go into battle in the second half of the year with another try at frozen embryo transfer. And if I have difficult, rubbish days along the way, even during recovery, that's OK.

Thursday 7 January 2016

Numb

Have been trying to write this post in my head all day. Don't really know what to say. We had a follow up scan this morning after no foetal heartbeat was found last week. The scan confirmed the baby died at 6 weeks gestation, so 2.5 weeks ago. As I've not passed baby yet it's classed as a missed miscarriage. I have to go to my GP tomorrow to start the discussion about what to do next. Basically I either wait for it to happen naturally (which can take 6 weeks), take medication to induce passing baby or have surgery. At the moment I'm leaning towards surgery but we'll see. We're going to a Christian infertility retreat day on Saturday which includes a session on dealing with miscarriage. Turns out the timing is perfect.

As for how I feel the only word I can find is numb. Even though I think I knew, because I'm still technically pregnant (and feel it) I can't believe it's over. This baby has been 4 years in the making, I'm not ready for it to be over yet. You'd have thought I would have been in tears all day but I haven't shed a single tear. I don't really feel anything at all. I always take days, sometimes weeks to start to feel the emotions of difficult experiences. I feel like there's something wrong with me at the time, like I'm a robot. I want to deal with the weight of emotion linked with this sooner rather than later and an praying that God will let me cry and start the grieving process now. I guess it's a coping mechanism but I want to feel this now, not have it hit me weeks later. This happened with the negative cycle we had in October and was uncomfortable. I know there's going to be a lot of emotion to deal with here so I want to deal with it gradually. I think the retreat day will help me with this.