Wish'n and Hope'n: The Infertility Journey Begins

It’s January 2014.  In December I turned 31 and Jake and I celebrated our 4^th wedding anniversary.  I haven’t written a blog post since April 2013.  It’s been one heck of a year since last April and I haven’t really known how to feel about it or how to feel about our new lives since moving to Oklahoma, which is why I have mostly remained silent on the blog.  Blogs are for writing happy things and telling happy stories. Although I’ve had happy moments since April 2013, overall I’ve been trying to find my equilibrium again, which has been somewhat of a struggle at times.  To summarize those few months since April, Jake graduated from dental school, commissioned in the army and started his four weeks of officer’s training before we moved to Ft. Sill, Oklahoma in July in order for him to start a one-year residency.  

Of course these are all wonderful things that I am grateful for.  However, since that time I have struggled to find out how I fit in in a place with a culture seemingly foreign to me while Jake is continuing his career. On top of undergoing all of these changes we’ve also been trying to get pregnant.  These circumstances don’t always make for smooth sailing and I’ve definitely had my various moments these last several months.

The New Year opened up with news that hit me especially hard although it’s likely that it would seem trivial to an outsider.  After more than two years of being off of birth control and then seriously trying to conceive for 6 months I finally went to the doctor in order to get a referral to see a specialist.  Even the visit to the doctor to receive this referral was troubling for me.  In order to make that appointment I had to acknowledge to myself that I am not going to be able to do this on my own.  This was after an extended amount of time of wishing and hoping that seeing a fertility specialist would not be necessary.  Then, as the new-year approached I received the information that I had been referred to a specialist in Ft. Worth, TX.  That is three hours away.  Immediately I started to hate Oklahoma and bemoan the fact that I lived in a place that didn’t have the medical care I needed closer to home.  After trying to conceive for more than two years it felt to me like God didn’t want me to have a baby. I was confused and hurt.  After contemplation I have realized that at this point any sort of roadblock that will prolong my ability to get pregnant is going to be painful to bear.  Every obstruction only delays the strongest desire of my heart for what I feel I have already waited so long for.

I know that am only in the beginning of this journey.  I don’t mean to compare my feelings or my situation to anyone else’s.  I know that people that are dealing with infertility have had many more difficult situations to face than myself.  What my experiences thus far have taught me is that infertility is an emotional battle.  If getting a referral to see a specialist that is three hours away can lead me to tears, I can only imagine the pain a person must feel further into this process.  At this point, I don’t know what the future holds and that is really the scariest thing of all. This post isn’t a plea for sympathy, but it is a plea for sensitivity.  Any time anyone asks the question about us “When are they going to have kids,” or “Are they ever going to have kids” it just puts salt into a wound that grows a little bigger month after month.   I also don’t write this with an intention to push people away.  I don’t want to scare the people closest to me into avoiding the topic altogether.  I want people to ask me how I am and how everything is going because even though it’s hard to admit it, I am desperate for an empathetic ear. Obviously, it is my hope and prayer that Jake and I will be lead down a path that will bless us with the opportunity to start a family.  It is my hope that you will pray for us also.