Tag Archives: Healing

In Other Words: Day #2 of a 3-day quote challenge

01 Tuesday May 2018

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

, ,

As the quotes continue to roll in the blogging world, I’m back for day #2 of the 3-day quote challenge. But first, a reminder of the rules:

  1. Thank the person who nominated you. Thanks again go out to CW from Almost Pregnant for thinking of me. If you haven’t checked out her blog you really should. It’s smart, informative, and witty.
  2. Post a quote for 3 consecutive days and explain why it appeals to you.
  3. Nominate bloggers to participate in the challenge each day. Today I’m tagging bloggers Dani of The Great Pudding Club Hunt and Allison of My Journey Creating Life. Another set of great blogs worth checking out.

Selecting a quote for today was easy. This is one is from Viktor E. Frankl who significantly shaped the face of psychology and my training. He was a neurologist, psychiatrist, and survivor of Nazi concentration camps. Through his unique lens as a psychiatrist, he observed and experienced both the darkest and brightest of the human condition during his imprisonment. His famous book Man’s Search For Meaning is harrowing and inspirational. The first half of the book is a must read for anyone who has ever had to endure and overcome. The second half of the book dives deeper into his conceptualization of psychotherapy and theory called logotherapy, which was heavily influenced by his personal insights into struggle, pain, and finding one’s meaning in life. While the theoretical half of the book is more academic, the first part of the book certainly stands on it’s own. While obviously a tragic subject, his insights are profound, easy to connect with, and apply to anyone struggling to move past pain.

Now for the quote…

Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.

~ Viktor E. Frankl

I’m come back to this quote many times in my life. And I’ve seen the truth in it in every person I’ve worked with. There are things that happen to us in our life that we have no control over – circumstances, the actions of others, abuses. We can live like victims, feeling helpless to our pain and circumstance. And there is a place for sitting with and honoring that pain in us. But that is not the whole picture.

If you put 20 people in the same situation, you will find that although there will likely be some similarities, ultimately you will have 20 different responses. And that is because each individual gets to choose how they think and ultimately how they will react. We all have a unique back-story that influences how we perceive things. But in the end, no matter where we’ve come from, the choice moving forward is up to us.

I choose to not let infertility beat me. And that doesn’t necessarily mean that I will get the baby that I’m after. That part I really don’t have control over. But I do get to choose how I will respond at the end. And that will shape the person I become.

If you missed the quote from Day #1, you can read the post here.

The Moments That Give Us Pause

03 Tuesday Apr 2018

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, ,

StockSnap_COT4YSOLEHThere I was, sitting at my desk having a perfectly good day. It had been a while since I was on Facebook and so I decided to see what my friends had been up to. And as a scrolled there it was – my dream. A woman holding hands with her husband and toddler, a beautiful pregnant belly growing obviously under her dress. Everyone in the picture was smiling with what could only be described as bliss.

I’ve seen this picture a million times in my mind’s eye. Only in my picture, I’m the woman. This was supposed to be my future. But today this picture was of a friend who is not much younger than I am. I was happy for her, yet also sad for the loss of my dream. I know I am not quite done with infertility treatments yet, but the end is very near and our last efforts are a long shot at best. So I am preparing for, and on most days accepting, this loss.

It did make me wonder, though, how some older women get pregnant so easily and others are fighting an uphill egg quality problem due to age. I began to get irritated. Maybe even angry. On the one had you see all these stories of women getting pregnant well into their 40’s, many even seem to be natural conceptions. Everyone knows a mom, friend, or friend of a friend who had a healthy baby after they passed age 40. On the other hand, any fertility expert will warn you that egg quality dips after 35 and plummets after 40. That doesn’t mean that there is nothing that can be done to help improve egg quality. But I feel like I’ve done all the recommended strategies – supplements, healthy clean eating, removing toxins and endocrine disruptors from home care and beauty products, weekly acupuncture, etc. – and still my egg quality has been dismal. I’m not sure why these strategies seem to work for some women and not others. I’m not sure what the norm is.

To many women, stories of others conceiving in their 40’s gives them hope. And in the beginning of this journey they gave me hope too. In fact I delayed seeking infertility treatment for about 5 months because I had so much hope. But at this point those stories don’t give me hope. Call me a pessimist, but I prefer the term realist. I think it really comes down to perspective. While we see these great stories of pregnancy success in older women, what we don’t see posted are all the stories of the women who didn’t become pregnant. Now I know we do see many negative outcomes in IVF support groups for women over 40, but still, what about all of the women who are silent? Can you imagine what it would look like if we knew how many women tried and were unable to conceive in their 40’s? How much would those stories outweigh the successes? Would that give us a more realistic picture of our chances?

When I thought that age was just a number and it didn’t really impact fertility, I felt hurt, confused, and depressed when my IVF’s failed. I simply couldn’t understand what was going wrong. When I take a more balanced perspective and realize the positive stories of conception in older women are exceptions not the rule, then I don’t get so down and hard on myself when things fail. I know that now, I’m the norm – unfortunately. It’s still sad and part of me wishes I would have been able to try when I was younger. But I also know that life circumstances simply didn’t work out that way for me, and I wouldn’t necessarily change them.

I may never get my dream picture, but I will adjust and heal. I will enjoy life and all my blessings. But I think there may always be days when I see my dream manifest in other people, and I will take pause and hold loving space for that loss.

Thoughts on Approaching the End of the Road

27 Tuesday Mar 2018

Posted by in IVF #6 with Fresh 3-day Transfer, Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

, , ,

nathan-anderson-454637-unsplash

How do you decide when to stop infertility treatments?

I got an email from my IVF nurse coordinator saying that it is good that I’ll be talking about my options with my RE on the 9th, but she also indicated that my RE is leaning toward recommending we do a frozen embryo transfer (FET) with my PGS “abnormal” embryo that we still have on ice. Since we didn’t do Next Generation Sequencing, we have no way to know whether this embryo is mosaic or not. It has one small issue that would either result in a failure to implant, early miscarriage, or self-correct and turn into a healthy baby. There’s just no way to know. It won’t result in a live birth of a baby with a chromosome-related disorder. In my mind, I’ve been saving this option in my back pocket for our last ditch effort before discontinuing treatment. It is a long shot after all, but still a possibility. So I don’t want to leave this one embryo behind, but I’m not expecting it to work. Honestly, I really thought my RE would recommend one last egg retrieval and fresh transfer before going with this long shot FET.

I know it’s my choice. My body, my money, my choice. So I think I could talk my RE into one more IVF try. That’s what my husband wants to do, but he is open to hearing what the RE’s rationale is. But if my RE ends up recommending transferring the PGS “abnormal” embryo rather than another IVF fresh transfer, then he is basically saying that  I’m at the end of my road with my own eggs. He’s saying that the chances for success with my eggs is so low that it’s not worth going through another cycle.

But it’s still my choice. So how does one make that choice?

It’s a heart heavy equation. You weigh your dream against your finances, the physical impact of the medications and procedures, the emotional toll this takes on you, the effect on your relationships, and you try to figure out just how much more you can take. Or how much you want to take. I think I can take much more, but honestly, I don’t know that I want to. Many women won’t have to make this decision because IVF will work before they reach their limit. But some of us do have to make the decision.

People tell you, “don’t give up.” Never give up. But I think that is naive advice at best, and potentially harmful advice as it can make you feel like a failure or guilty if you stop. Not everyone can afford endless rounds of IVF. I’m lucky to have insurance coverage or I would have had to stop due to finances long ago. But that still doesn’t mean I should never give up. I’m fighting an uphill battle against age. I could do this 10 more times and have less chance of success each time as I get older and my egg quality decreases. But honestly, the factor that is weighing heavily on my heart is quality of life. I’m tired of my life revolving around IVF cycles. I’ve missed conferences and trips. I’ve missed time with my family. Often, I feel like I’m missing life. Every decision I make revolves around my fertility – what I drink and eat, when and how I can exercise, when I can go out of town, what I read, the appointments I fit into my schedule, how emotionally connected and present I feel with those around me. Some days, many days, during IVF I don’t even feel like myself anymore. The hormonal fluctuations are real and they change how I feel and perceive things. It changes how happy I am in life.

At the end of all of this, whether it works or not, I will still have my life to live. And my life is filled with so many blessings. Not the least of which is my daughter from my first IVF years ago. And I want to enjoy all of the blessings in my life, and sometimes that’s hard to do when I’m so deep in IVF hell.

So I have to weigh out all the factors in my equation and decide when it’s time to stop. After this last cycle failed I found myself feeling really good about the idea of doing one more egg retrieval and fresh transfer, then the last FET with the PGS “abnormal” embryo. If I did those 2 cycles, I felt that I would be satisfied knowing that I didn’t “leave anything on the table”. I would have given it my best shot without sacrificing myself.  Doing more cycles beyond that tipped the scales too much and didn’t feel worth it. But am I ready to go straight to the FET with the PGS “abnormal” embryo? Can I forgo one more retrieval and fresh transfer and still feel okay about my decision if I end up not pregnant? I’m not sure. That ending almost feels too abrupt. But I won’t lie – there is a part of me that feels relieved at the thought of not having to go through another whole IVF cycle. I want to be realistic about my chances.

I’ve done 6 IVF cycles in total. I know some women do many more than that. If I didn’t already have my daughter then I know I would be willing to do more. But part of me feels like I’m missing out on fully enjoying my daughter’s life because I’m so caught up in infertility treatments and the hormonal emotional roller coaster that goes along with this. But I want to give her a sibling so much, and we want to expand our family. However, the truth is she may very well be my only child – how much do I want to miss out on? I could say that I’m not really missing out on anything with her, and maybe that’s true for some women. But it’s not true for me. The medications and the emotional ups and downs do impact me, and negatively affect my relationships and my ability to really enjoy life. IVF is hard. It gets depressing. It becomes all consuming. If can even feel addictive.  And I’m tired of paying that price.

It is okay to stop. That doesn’t mean that you are giving up or are a quitter. It means you are carefully weighing all the factors, which are unique to you, and making a smart, healthy decision. That stop point is going to look very different for different women. And that’s okay.

I suppose I’ll wait to hear what my RE ultimately ends up recommending and what his rationale is before I make my decision. I feel like I’ll have to make a quick decision after our meeting since I’m already on birth control pills to get ready for my next cycle – whether that be another IVF or the FET – and I don’t want to drag out being on those pills. Will I feel like I’m done if I do only the FET? Will I regret not doing one more IVF? Do I want to do another IVF even if the chances for success are so low? Those are the questions I have to weigh.

Taking a Moment to Remember

02 Thursday Nov 2017

Posted by in IVF #3, Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

, ,

*Trigger Warning* – I just want to give an upfront warning to those struggling with infertility who might not be in a place where they want to read about another person’s experience with birth. This is that kind of post.

PicsArt_11-02-02.13.28

It was 3 years ago today that I went into labor. Well by this time I had already been in labor since 2AM. My daughter’s birthday is tomorrow. So, yes, it was a long labor. About 32 hours. Each year since her birth, these two days have given me pause. They bring up such a mix of intense emotions – many of which are hard to name. This is the first time that I’m actively trying to conceive again during her birthday, and it seems like that is adding another twist to the emotions.

Like every good student, I studied up on all my birthing options and put together what I considered to be the best plan for supporting the beautiful, natural birth I had envisioned. I found an excellent team of nurse midwives who could deliver at my chosen hospital. The nurses who generally worked with the midwives were on board with natural, flexible birthing options. They were backed up by OB’s who respected their judgment. My doula was caring and experienced, and was studying to become a midwife herself. I wrote both a birth plan and a baby plan. I had practiced hypnobabies diligently in preparation. My bag was packed. My mind was filled with images of strong women crouched down, birthing their babies into their own arms. I knew to be flexible despite my planning, because things don’t always go as planned. I wasn’t that naive.

But I truly did not expect what happened. I spent thoughtful time after her birth processing what had happened. Long story short, although I was completely dilated, pushed for 4 hours, and could see the top of the baby’s head for quite some time, she simply would not come out. Due to the lengthy session of strong pushing, she was so tightly lodged in my pelvis that they actually had difficulty getting her out during the emergency C-Section. We later found out, informed by the OB who performed the C-Section, that the bone opening the baby had to pass through was 1.5 inches to small in diameter. It wasn’t that my child’s head was too large, it was simply my structure. He said I would never be able to birth a full term baby. My midwife actually agreed that there was nothing we could have done differently to have a different outcome. And we had tried every natural option and strategy they could think of. I felt okay at the time, knowing that the C-Section really was medically necessary and not a result of a cascade of medical interventions. While I was at peace with that knowledge, and felt grateful for the advances in medicine that helped me both conceive and birth my child – neither of which would have been possible years ago – that didn’t take away the birth trauma. I talked to both my midwife and doula at later appointments about what happened. I processed the trauma successfully.

Now, at this time of year, I light a tealight in a goddess candle holder that I only use for this purpose. For these two days I honor that birth. The birth of a daughter. The birth of a mother. I acknowledge the unbearable pain that I found the strength to bear. I remember feeling let down by the team I built around me who were supposed to give me support. I remember feeling alone, scared, and confused. I remember speaking up for myself even when I only had a few words. I honor my voice.  I honor my body for all that it did despite the parts that it could not do. I hold space for both the sadness and the joy.

Many people are quick to say, “as long as she was born healthy – that’s all that matters.” I am grateful beyond words that my daughter, who had to be revived three times after this traumatic birth,  came through it healthy and safe. I would have endured anything for that. But it’s inaccurate to say that that is all that matters. Birth matters. A woman’s experience matters.

I feel blessed to have gone through that transition into motherhood. And I honor it in all the chaos that it was. I hope beyond words that I get to experience birth again in all it’s raw beauty, power, and pain. I know many women on this path never get to give birth to a baby, and I am grateful that I have. And yet, still my heart yearns for one more child.

Finding the Way Back

04 Wednesday Oct 2017

Posted by in IVF #3

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , ,

It’s kind of amazing how women going though infertility treatment can find hope again after so many disappointments and failures. I can’t tell you how many women I’ve seen in support groups hit what appears to be the lowest point of sorrow and despair, only to turn it around, try again, and hold hope. I’m truly amazed and inspired by these women.

I’ve read so many posts after losses and failures where women have asked the question, “How do you go on? How do you find the strength to try again?” Inevitably someone responds with the declaration that you just will. I wish there were instructions on how to climb out of the pain. And certainly, different people find strength in different places. For some it’s spirituality/religion. For others it’s support and love, whether from family, friends, or the infertility community. For many it’s that drive to have a child that is so strong it seems to have a life force all of it’s own. For some it’s habit. And for yet others it’s the passage of time that heals. Maybe it’s a combination of many or all of these things, or something completely different. But for all of us it includes an internal strength that we might not have even known that we had. 

After my failed FET I questioned my spiritual beliefs. I felt abandoned by the Divine and lost in a vast universe. I felt alone and confused. I think it’s normal to feel all of these things after loss. And for a moment, I wasn’t sure if or how I would gain back my sense of faith and connection that my spiritual beliefs have brought me. It felt like an identity crisis. Because after all, my beliefs are a central part to my being. I didn’t share my reaction with my IVF support community because I often feel like a spiritual outsider in IVF groups that are often composed of many vocal people with Christian beliefs. I typically don’t mind the difference because I appreciate religious diversity and understand how much support and strength women get from their personal religious beliefs, just as I get strength from mine. But I didn’t feel like that was the right forum for sharing my crisis of faith because I knew that the responses I would receive wouldn’t be inline with my particular belief set. I’ve yet to find a pagan post in my IVF support groups. Of course, I’m sure they are quietly in there, just like me, but that’s another topic.

So I took my struggle to two of the pagan online communities that I’m a part of, even though they are not infertility groups. The responses I received were overflowing with love, kindness, validation, and support. Not one person told me how to “fix” my crisis of faith though. And I really wanted someone to tell me what I should do to feel better. So there I sat, re-reading all of the supportive comments from mostly women who had never dealt with infertility (and a few that had), and somehow after a while I began to slowly feel better. As it turned out, these wise women gave me exactly what I needed. They didn’t try to fix it or convince me that “everything happens for a reason”. They just held space for me in my struggle and offered me kindness. I suppose they knew I would find my way back to Goddess, and I did.

Earlier in the month, as the dark moon transitioned into the waxing crescent, I found myself ready to begin again. Renewed from the darkness. I revisited my candle magic that I did here during my first egg retrieval, to modify it for what I felt was the new focus for this upcoming IVF stimulation. For this cycle I’m focusing on energy and power – that fiery spark that my eggs will need to grow strong and healthy. Egg quality was a problem for me during my last round, and at my age that basically means that my ovaries and eggs didn’t have the energy stores needed to really thrive. So here’s what I did for my egg ritual this time around:

IVF 3Supplies

  • Beeswax egg candle
  • White dish (white is for  activation, beginnings, blessings)
  • Green glitter (fertility and rebirth)
  • Rose (for love) and Frankincense (for energy and attraction) essential oils
  • Herbal blend of Apple wood shavings, rosemary, basil, sage, and lavender (this combination brings in action, beginings, fertility, blessings, energy, love, protection, and a dash of luck)
  • Crystals: bloodstone (strength & reproductive health), amazonite (calm, clarity, & peace), moss agate (fertility & birth), rose quartz (love), and septarian egg (healing, nourishing, & calming)

I started out my ritual by invoking Gaia, my spirit guides and angels, and all those allies in my fertility journey to hear me and grant me their assistance in making this IVF stimulation cycle successful by helping my ovaries grow strong, healthy eggs that contain all the energy and life force needed to form healthy, normal embryos – one of which will grow into  our second healthy child. This was my intention for this working.

Then I did some candle magic! First, I anointed the egg candle with rose and frankincense essential oils. Second I carved some symbols. I combined 3 runes that I intentionally selected from the Womanrunes deck into one symbol: The Dancing Woman (rune of power), The Yoni (rune of making), and The Flame (rune of fire/energy). On the other side of the candle I carved the Reiki Power symbol to boost my intention. The Reiki power symbol (“Choku Rei”) is often translated to “place the power of the universe here” and I love to work with this symbol when using Reiki. Then I sprinkled on the green glitter because who doesn’t like glitter? Next, I placed the candle in the white dish and surrounded it with the herbal mixture and crystals. Finally I lit the candle and as the wax pooled near the wick, I sprinkled some of the herbs into the melting wax.

As the candle burned  I held my hands over my ovaries and let the energy flow. I focused on healthy eggs growing, visualizing my ovaries glowing with light as I said these words:

I send energy and love to my ovaries. I carry the seeds of life within my ovaries. I send energy, vitality, and love to my eggs. My eggs that are being stimulated during this cycle are healthy and have all the energy needed for development. From these eggs, my healthy baby will grow. So mote it be.

I repeated those words until I felt done. Then in closing I gave thanks. It felt good to re-connect with the Divine and the magic within me, especially after I had thought I was lost.

Healing After Failed FET

24 Thursday Aug 2017

Posted by in IVF#2 with FET

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

,

moonIt’s been three days since I got the news that our frozen embryo transfer (FET) with our one and only normal PGS tested embryo did not work. It was surreal getting that call. I wasn’t even very anxious that day because I really though it had worked. I thought I was pregnant. Quite the vast contrast with my first IVF 3 years ago when I was absolutely sure it didn’t work, and had just finished writing a list of questions to ask my doctor about why it hadn’t worked, when I got the call from the nurse giving me the shocking positive news. This time it was devastating falling from a place filled with potential and excitement, to a place of confusion, anger, sadness, and loss. I wanted to run away.

 

The day after the news I leashed up my dog and headed out to the trail through the hills behind my house. And I started to run. Now, I’ll admit I haven’t run in years and on that day it was pretty brief and mainly downhill, but that’s not the point. Alone out there under the blue sky with only the sounds of birds and my dog’s foot steps, I found the beginning of a release. I initially wanted t run to escape my emotions, the pain that I was feeling, but through my strained breath and sweat, I felt my emotions without judgment, and I began to let them go. This process is far from over, I know. But another thing I realized during this run is that movement felt good. I used to be a pretty physically healthy and strong person. But after some restrictions during pregnancy, and traumatic birth, and then 2.5 years of getting about 3-4 hours of broken sleep a night due to a baby that didn’t sleep well and nursed every 1.5 hours all night long even as a 2 year old, I was physically exhausted. I felt weak in my body. It was like my whole body atrophied. After my daughter finally started sleeping through the night and not night nursing, about 6 months ago, I had difficulty finding the motivation to exercise and really move my body again. I knew I needed to. My job is sedentary and I felt sluggish. But I just didn’t do it. I made excused for not going to yoga classes – no time, work schedule, my daughter’s schedule. There was always something. But after that first run, I realized something. I can’t keep waiting for the perfect time to take care of me.

 

After the news, I felt betrayed by my body. A perfectly healthy embryo was placed in my womb at the perfect time, and my body failed to do its part. After slipping into research mode yesterday, I realized that my expectations about success with PGS testing were too high. In my defense, my expectations were set by my doctor. He didn’t warn me that PGS testing doesn’t ensure that the embryo is healthy from all conditions or that it has the energy needed to continue dividing and growing. And sometimes it’s just bad luck. Maybe my body didn’t hold up its end of the bargain, maybe there was something about this embryo that wasn’t compatible with life, maybe it was both, maybe it was neither. But over the years, and in the future to come, I’m asking a lot of my body. I want a long and healthy life with my daughter and husband. I hope to be able to make more healthy embryos, and sustain a pregnancy and birth. My body wants to move again and feel strong. I want that.

 

Last night I walked into my old yoga studio for the first time in about three years. Prior to my daughter’s birth I attended multiple classes per week and loved it. It was strange to be back, but also comforting. It felt good to do something for me. For my health. I felt so bloated and sluggish from all the progesterone I’d been injecting and wanted to help move it out. It was a candlelight yin yoga class, so nothing rigorous, but just want I needed at the time. I felt tightening in my throat and tears in the back of my eyes during most of the class as I stretched my body and processed more emotions. At the end of class, after savasana, as we sat there cross-legged, eyes closed, hands in prayer position, the teacher asked us to consider what had to happen to bring us here to the mat that night, in an effort to help us recognize and honor all the little things it took. But for me the answer was concise and simple. It took a failed FET.

 

I thought about that as I drove home in the darkness. I saw the beginnings of the new crescent moon raising in the night sky. It was beautiful. The waxing crescent is a time for new beginnings. I also pondered the synchronicity with the solar eclipse, which occurred on the same day I got my news. Darkness, confusion, disruption – giving birth to light, shifting paradigms, new beginnings. I was expecting good news that day – no darkness, no disruption. But I got just that. And now from the darkness of this pain, some light will emerge. I will continue to honor my body with movement, fuel it with healthy foods, and connect with the Divine and my guides. I have not been abandoned. I know there are still more emotions to process. There are more tears that will be shed, and I do plan on doing a ritual to honor this baby that will never be. My path toward healing and well-being is just begun. We will continue trying for a second child. I have a consultation with my doctor scheduled in two weeks, and barring any devastating news, we will do IVF again. But whatever happens along this journey, this loss has given me the gift of honoring myself and taking better care of my body that does so much for me. And I thank that little soul for what she has given me in the brief time we were together.