An announcement of sorts

Throughout my preteen and teenage years, I would look at the newly married couples I knew and expect them to announce a pregnancy shortly after their first anniversary. After all, that was the natural order of things: get married, wait a year to settle into married life, and then start popping out babies. And I admit, if an announcement wasn't forthcoming, I was a little judgmental of them for postponing children.

Oh, how wrong I was. Not only was it none of my business, but back then I didn't realize that certain circumstances might make achieving pregnancy difficult.

Clearly, we have not followed the pattern of giving birth during the second year of marriage. But not for lack of trying.

You see, today marks the start of National Infertility Awareness Week. And it only seems appropriate that we make you, reader, aware that we are dealing with infertility.

Shortly before our first anniversary, I stopped taking birth control. We expected it would take a few months at least, so when I didn't get pregnant right away we weren't too concerned. After seven or eight months I read Taking Charge of Your Fertility and started tracking my fertility signs to pinpoint ovulation. 

Confirming that it wasn't a timing issue, I became more unsettled and more sure that something was wrong. April of last year I attended a Utah Infertility Awareness event, before even seeing a doctor about our lack of success. While there, I entered a raffle and won a free infertility consultation with a reproductive endocrinologist at the Utah Center for Reproductive Medicine. 

We set up an appointment, met with the doctor, and had multiple tests performed on us. In the last year, we've given over a dozen samples of body fluids for testing, had a couple ultrasounds, taken eleven months' worth of supplements, tried a few rounds of medication, and underwent a somewhat invasive surgery in hopes that we might be blessed with a baby.

Not so. 

And so, with our most recent appointments, we've decided to proceed with in-vitro fertilization (IVF), coupled with a procedure called ICSI. 

To those uninitiated, this procedure will involve: a couple months of birth control (oh, the irony!); up to three subcutaneous (under-the-skin) injections a day for about two weeks to turn my body into an egg factory; retrieval of said eggs with yet another needle; fertilization of the eggs in the doctor's office; three to five days of waiting before transferring the healthiest embryos back to my body; and then eight weeks of intramuscular injections with the most terrifying needle of all. Oh, and it will cost about the same as our new (used) car. 

Romantic.

Why are we revealing this in such a public manner? 

1) To quell the asked (or unasked!) question of "when are you going to start having kids?" 

2) To bring awareness to the struggles of infertile couples in general, in an attempt to reduce the stigma associated with infertility.

3) To let the other infertile couples who read this, whether they have made their situation public or not, that they are not alone in this trial. I have found comfort in reading accounts of other couples who have dealt with infertility. I've also found support with other women as I have opened up to friends and close family members about our situation. It's a terrible thing to deal with, but there is some comfort in knowing that not everyone is able to conceive with little effort. 

So. What can you do to help? Aside from giving us an interest-free loan to help pay for IVF, read this article: Infertility Etiquette. If you don't know how to respond to the announcement that someone is dealing with infertility, this article gives some great suggestions on what NOT to say and what you can do to offer your support.

And to get some insight as to what it's like emotionally to deal with infertility, watch this video (overlook the twanginess of it and try not to dissolve in a puddle of tears):