our marriage is worth more

It’s been two weeks since I received the news, alone in a cold room, that our pregnancy would not continue on. I feel like things have finally calmed down. I no longer cry when I think about going from being pregnant to… instantly not. I no longer tear up at a Huggies commercials, and I’m no longer constantly thinking, “today, I’d be _ weeks pregnant.”

All of the flowers, texts, calls, emails, comments… I cannot tell you how much they all mean to me. Opening up to you all about our story has been incredibly therapeutic, and the support has brought me to tears. Our goal is to continue sharing our story, whether it be in happy times or sad; I kept my first four miscarriages quiet and the loneliness ate me alive.

My hope is that sharing our infertility journey will help another, who may be struggling with her own story, and let her know that she isn’t alone.

I started going to therapy last month when I realized that fertility treatments weren’t working for us (so we thought then), and I needed someone to help me separate my business life as a family photographer from my personal life; I needed to learn how to control my emotions during a hospital birth session, and how to not take it home with me. And looking back at it now, the sessions started at the time when I didn’t think I needed them (and how wrong I was!). The timeline was this:

week 1: We have decided to stop fertility treatments after another set of low numbers.

week 2: I’m learning to cope with emotions about stopping treatments.

week 3: Holy moly, I’m pregnant!

week 4: I’m still pregnant, things are good (and still in shock!).

week 5: Something is wrong with the pregnancy.

week 6: I miscarried.

week 7: We aren’t pregnant anymore.

Needless to say, It’s been quite the ride for my therapist. BUT, she has been wonderful at prompting the emotions that need to come out; to talk about things like if more fertility treatments are in our future. Are they? Maybe. Just a few minutes before I was wheeled back into surgery on Friday, my OB came to talk to us about the surgery and future treatments; he went ahead and prescribed another fertility treatment cocktail of Clomid, Metformin, and Progesterone for next month. To be honest, I felt like it was too soon to be talking about treatments since I was still technically pregnant… and now the question that we struggle with is, should we continue on? Should we wait? Those are the questions that are plaguing us. What if one of these next few months could be the one? It is such an emotionally-loaded question, and Peter and I seem to change our minds almost daily. It takes a toll on us.

“Why is a treatment so difficult to decide on? You want a baby, so why is it even a question? It’s just a couple of pills…”

I’ve been asked that question several times, and each time I find the answer difficult to put into words. So, I’ve decided to show why it’s so difficult and why it’s not just a couple of pills. This is a five-day cycle during each month and amounts to 37 pills, not including required daily prenatal vitamins.

And this is what one month of fertility treatments looks like. That’s one hundred forty two pills in a 30-day cycle, and that doesn’t include a required daily prenatal vitamin.

This photo, the one above with the small mountain of pills, is why we struggle with making the decision to continue on with treatments. The side effects, the emotional roller coaster each month with the “what if?” questions, biweekly doctor appointments, and the constant stress of it all put a strain on our marriage. And our marriage is worth more than a pile of pills.

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Things are still tough around here. Packing away a newborn outfit that was purchased in France earlier this year for our “one day little one” was tough. Seeing personal snapchats of friends’ newborn babies is really tough. We wanted ours so badly, and Peter and I can’t kiss those sweet cheeks like our friends can to their newborns. Being reminded of that can really sting. But the worst offender for me was having to delete the pregnancy from my BabyCenter account online, and watching the title of “soon-to-be a happy family of four” turned back into “happy family of three”.

“When is enough? When will you stop doing this to yourselves?“

Ouch. We are still receiving those “at least you have one!” statements. Yes, that is a positive takeaway from this, and the same thing with, “hey, at least you ovulated!” Yes, that statement is true, but also true? We lost a baby.

Don’t get me wrong, we are so absolutely, incredibly, whole heartedly THANKFUL for our living baby, Walter. We thank God every day for our wonderful blessing, trust me. But there is an empty space in my heart for the bundle of joy that our family so desperately wants, and I won’t deny that. I am devastated that I cannot give Walter a sibling, and that I am unable to give my husband another child.

As we move on from this miscarriage, we will embrace life as a family of three oncemore. Will our family grow to that “happy family of four” that we want? We would love that, and welcome it with the most open arms. I feel like we’ll get there one day, whether it be by blood or by law. But for now, we’ll enjoy our time and rejoice every second that we have with our two year old.

After every storm comes a rainbow, and we’ll see our rainbow one day.