Feeling Like a “Broken Toy” {National Infertility Awareness Week}

In order to honor those families that are affected by infertility every single day, Austin Moms Blog plans to share several stories throughout this week. What binds us together is motherhood and whether you are a veteran mom, expecting mom, new mom, or just want to be a mom, we all have one common denominator… our love for children and motherhood.

This is Chelsea’s story.

My mother is amazing! She is pancakes and pj’s every Saturday morning. She is bologna boats with cheesy mashed potatoes mid-week, just because it’s fun. She’s the giddy driver while you and your girlfriends wrap a friend’s house in junior high and she’s the voice you ache for when you have good news, bad news, and everything in between. She’s the reason I can’t wait to be a mother! I want to be able to make someone else feel as loved and as special as she makes me feel and she’s been my rock on this journey!

I thought I did everything right in order to make this happen for myself. I went to college, I met Mr. Right, I have a good job, I eat well, I exercise, and I’m married. So…what gives? Why am I not a mom yet?

My husband, Cloudy, and I were so anxious to start a family that we decided the moment we said “I do” that any day now would be good with us. That was April 1, 2012. For the first few months I was overjoyed just thinking of the possibility and just enjoying the process (hubba, hubba), but somewhere around July 2012, I started wondering why things weren’t happening and something just didn’t feel right. I bought those ovulation predictor kits that are supposed to help you feel more in control and aware of your cycle, but if they were supposed to change color, mine were broken. All 3 packs I ever bought were “broken” until I came to the realization that it might not be the kits.

Maybe I was broken.

Then mid-Autumn, my sister told me she was pregnant (a few short weeks into her marriage). Ouch. Broken a bit more…I tried to find a positive spin on this new pain and I started telling myself that maybe I wasn’t pregnant because my sister needed me. After all, I was freakishly knowledgeable about pregnancy and newborns and my sister was clueless about these things. Perhaps it wasn’t my time because it was hers. I knew that I needed to be supportive, but every month she got bigger, I broke a little more.

By January 2013 I decided to get some blood tests done by a fertility specialist. They practically laughed at me at the fertility center and made me feel silly for coming in before it had been a full year of “trying”. They went over my chart, drew about 12 vials of blood, and sent me on my way telling me how young and fertile I was (insert eye roll here). In March I got my blood results back-inconclusive.  Finally, by June 2013, I went tearfully to my Ob/Gyn and asked for help. He told me I probably wasn’t ovulating so he put me on Clomid. At the time I didn’t know this was just the band-aid approach and, of course, women all over the internet and across from me at parties would smile and say, “I did Clomid and was pregnant by month 2!” This is the best thing to hear that very moment, but only at that very moment, because phrases and statements like this soon become invitations to punch someone in the face. Still broken.

Every month my doctor would look over my chart, look pitifully up at me and say, “Chelsea, I think we should increase your dose.” By the third month I was on the highest does of Clomid possible and I did this for 6 months with absolutely nothing happening below the belt. Finally, one day he didn’t even bother with an ultrasound. He brought me straight into his office and said, “There’s nothing more I can do for you. It’s time for the big guns. I’m referring you to a fertility specialist”. Those words probably don’t seem hurtful as you read this, but when I heard it, I felt as though the wind had been knocked out of me…fertility specialist? Me? Dammit, I’m not even close yet! Oh, and before the first appointment with “Mr. Big-Guns”, there’s the HSG to check for blocked tubes. HSG probably stands for something medical, but I will always know it as Hell So Godawful that I came off the table in pain screaming like a small child. I’ll spare you the intimate and excruciating details and the results were even more terrifying than the procedure- inconclusive (I started hating that word).

So, you can imagine when I met my new doctor, Dr. Kavoussi (3rd generation fertility specialist) I was not in high spirits. I felt like I’d just been admitted into a club I had no intentions of joining- “The Infertiles”. However, it took a few short minutes with this man before I was totally in love! Dr. Kavoussi was the first doctor…oh, who am I kidding, the first person, to ever really get it! He was calm, empathic, understanding, attentive. He immediately put my fears at rest, assured me he’d find a way to help me and told me he doesn’t quit. His exact words were, “I’m not going to waste any of your time. If something’s not working, we move on. My goal is to get you pregnant. I don’t deliver babies, I don’t do surgeries, I don’t do pap smears…my job is to get you pregnant.” Wait, what’s this I hear? I’m fixable?

After a few months of numerous ultrasounds, temperature charting, and experimenting with a pharmacy of meds we finally found a “cocktail” I respond to and we’ve identified the problem, which we both feel is treatable. That being said, the next step in my journey requires full commitment to the schedule and to relaxing, which I can’t do until June (I’m a teacher, an AMB contributor, and own a small business), but June is my focus. June is my own birthmonth and hopefully it’s the month I conceive. If not, then I’ll focus on July, then on August and so on. My focus will remain on the sticky, wrinkly, pink body I’ll one day soon get to hold in my arms and I’ll focus on the fingers and toes I’ll get to kiss everyday.

I used to refer to myself as a “broken toy” because what’s the point in a broken toy? I felt purposeless as a women who couldn’t make a baby. My friends don’t let me use this term anymore, lol. You probably know someone like me who struggling with this and who feels this way, too. Please don’t tell them to “stop worrying” or “stop thinking about it” and “it will happen”. You don’t know that. You don’t know their future and for someone on this journey, that just brings fresh hurt because it makes them feel like it’s their fault that it hasn’t happened yet. It makes us feel as if our brains and our uterus must be connected and if we could stop thinking about the pain we’d magically be with child! Please…just don’t. All they need is support. They need listening, nodding, smiling, hugging, wine drinking, and love.

They need to feel whole; not broken.

In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week, it is our hope to raise awareness and educate our community about the varying types of infertility and the many options available.  We hope that you are empowered by this series, because we really are in this journey of motherhood together. Please continue to support the real moms this week as they share their journeys.  To read more, please click here.

Thank you for your support!