Brooke

22 Apr Brooke

When I first saw the request for people to share stories of their very personal infertility journeys, I hesitated to once again open up and share mine. Not because I am ashamed of it; I’m actually quite proud of my story and have never shied away from sharing it. No, my reservations were because my story doesn’t have the traditional happy ending that people want to hear about. Every infertility story is different. And unless you’ve walked this path personally or closely alongside someone you love and care for, you can’t possibly understand the heartbreak, the disappointment, the emotional, physical, and financial toll, the grief, the utter loss of hope. I hesitated to share my story because we all want to believe that at the end of all of that despair, it’ll all be worth it when you’re holding your precious baby in your arms. The truth is, my story didn’t end with that particular happy ending, but I can stand before you now, over 4 years later, and assure you that it is in fact a happy ending. One filled with faith, strength, personal growth, and yes, a tremendous amount of hope!

I would say my infertility journey officially began on Monday, February 9, 2015. I had avoided the test for a couple of years; burying the order from my Ob-Gyn for a hysterosalpingogram (HSG) in a drawer and ignoring it. On February 9th, I finally had the test completed at a local hospital. It was awful! Painful, uncomfortable, and above all else, devastating what they shared with me. “We can’t FIND your fallopian tubes.” I didn’t even know what that meant, but it couldn’t be good. Three days later, I met with my Ob-Gyn, who was new to the area and had taken over for my previous doctor, so it was our first time meeting. He confirmed what the radiologist had already told me. He also stated that other tests that had been completed had identified additional challenges for us, and that IVF would be our only hope. Once again, I was in complete shock. How could this be happening?!

On February 18th, I met for the first time with Dr. Jeremy Groll at Springcreek Fertility in Dayton. He and his incredible staff would end up being angels on earth for me! Through this, you spend more time than you can imagine in a doctor’s office, not always in the most comfortable of positions! Your emotions and hormones are all over the place, and at times, you feel like your doctor and nurses are the only ones who understand you. He suggested running his own test for the female factor diagnosis, as an HSG is known to give a false diagnosis. Shouldn’t the radiologist and Ob-Gyn have known that, told me that was a possibility and that the reproductive specialist might want to run additional tests?!?  This was my first lesson in getting second opinions and being your own best advocate. Like everything else in the infertility world, it’s a waiting game, as it’s all based around your monthly cycle. So two weeks after my initial appointment, I had a Saline Sonogram. It was easy and painless, and more importantly showed absolutely no blockage! My fallopian tubes were perfectly healthy. Because of this, an effective and successful IUI, which are much less invasive and expensive, was still very much an option. For the next 3 months (April, May, and June 2015), I had 3 unsuccessful attempts with an IUI, and it was now time to discuss IVF.

From June 30-July 16 I took more pills and gave myself more injections in the stomach than I ever care to do again! But in those moments, you do it because you believe with every fiber of your being that it’s going to be worth it in the end.  Over the next couple of weeks, in my sometimes daily drives to Dayton, I continued to be hopeful; things were progressing well. July 16th, 14 eggs were retrieved, 12 of which were mature. Unfortunately, there was another setback that day that delayed the fertilization process, and all 12 eggs had to be frozen with the plans to thaw and proceed at a later time. More waiting. More unknowns. Another disappointment.

On November 5th, the eggs were thawed and we were ready to continue. This is where the real biology lesson came into play. 12 eggs sounded really encouraging! We will have them for now AND later pregnancies, but I found out very quickly that’s not how it typically works. Of the 12 eggs, 2 didn’t activate. Of the 10 that were injected, 7 fertilized normally. So now 12 had become 7, and once again, you WAIT. Initially they thought it would be a 3 day transfer, but it ended up being a 5 day. On that Sunday, that was three days in, I went to church with my parents as I always do, and I felt compelled to go to the altar and pray. Kneeling there, with my parents on each side of me, praying for my unborn children, was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. God has a plan for each one of us, even if we don’t always understand it. By Tuesday, November 11th, when we arrived in Dayton, there were two perfect embryos. None to freeze, but 2 that would be transferred. Then came another dreaded 2 week wait, and one of the most emotionally taxing months that I have ever experienced.

On Friday, November 20, 2015, 10 days post transfer, I went to have my blood test. My mom, my best friend, traveled just about every mile with me, literally and figuratively, but on this day, my incredible dad took the day off of work and took me to my appointment instead. It was a quick blood draw, and I would have the results that afternoon. We came home and I tried to keep myself busy waiting for the call with the news. One of the nurses who I had come to know and love called, and her voice said it all. My hcg level was a 7.3 (anything over a 5 is technically considered pregnant, but…). I was told that it wasn’t hopeless. The number needed to double every 48 hours. That weekend was horrible and I cried pretty much nonstop, and when I wasn’t crying I was reading online. Not a lot of hope there. By Monday, November 23, it had gone up to 43, and by Wednesday (the day before Thanksgiving) it was up to 119.4! Maybe I’d get my miracle after all! Monday, November 30th they called with news that it was back down to 67.8 and I should be prepared to lose it. Wednesday, December 2…back up to 101. What on earth was happening here?!? Now another one of my angel nurses drops another bomb. “We think it may be an ectopic pregnancy…” The next week was filled with more blood work and ultrasounds, praying for a heartbeat. Praying for a miracle. Ultimately, it was determined that the one embryo that had implanted, did so on the upper right side of my uterus and it was growing up into the fallopian tube. Left untreated, it would have ruptured, damaging both my tube and uterus. December 10th, I was sent to Kettering Medical Center where I was given 2 more shots. This time of Methotrexate, which would dissolve the embryo and every ounce of hope attached to it. The next few weeks were filled with more blood work until the hcg level returned to zero on January 5, 2016.

Going through infertility, like any major life event, changes a person. Over the next year or two, I went through a whole gamut of emotions. Sadness, resentment, anger, hopelessness…and what I’ve found is that it’s okay to feel every single one of them! Acknowledge them. Feel them. Give them the attention they deserve. Just don’t unpack and take up residence there! One of the memories that so vividly stands out in my mind and heart was the New Years Eve 3 weeks after my evening in Kettering Medical Center. I went to a house party, not really what I wanted to do, of course, but I tried it! And there, surrounded by families and two pregnant bellies, the conversation went to baby names and nurseries. I had a complete meltdown and couldn’t get out of there fast enough. That night, I went home, alone and in tears. With every Facebook post, baby announcement, and baby shower, your heart breaks a little bit. It’s a very strange feeling to feel genuinely happy for other people in the very thing that has caused your heart so much pain.

In the end, an event of this magnitude can make or break relationships, and my marriage did ultimately end in divorce. And while infertility didn’t break the relationship, it certainly didn’t make it either. Every person deals with trauma differently. For me, after too many failed attempts at fixing what was broken, I had to stop burying my head in the sand ignoring the fact that the foundation of a strong and healthy marriage just wasn’t there, never really had been, and never was going to be.

At 39, while yes, I am healthy, I’m still quickly approaching 40! I don’t know how this piece of my story will end. What I do know is this- He is good and what He has for me is good. At the end of the day, if all I have is Faith in Him and Hope in what He has in store for me…then I have all that I need! During my darkest days, I would listen to “Broken Hallelujah” by The Afters over and over again and learned without a doubt that as Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

“I can barely stand right now, Everything is crashing down, And I wonder where you are….I try to find the words to pray, I don’t always know what to say, But you’re the one who can hear my heart….Even though I don’t know what your plan is, I know you make Beauty from these Ashes…With nothing left to hold onto, I raise these empty hands to You…”

Four years later and I am the healthiest and happiest I’ve been in my adult life. December 14, 2015, on my final trip home from Dayton, driving on Interstate 75, there was the most vividly beautiful and breathtaking rainbow. It gave me such a sense of peace then and continues to do so today.  I will forever hold onto His promises and know that there is beauty for ashes!