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katelynepfeiffer

The Rollercoaster of Infertility



2020. I think we can all agree that this year was, well...unexpected. So many things that we had planned were suddenly canceled. There was a world-wide influx of loss and grief, and everything that we had come to know as normal became abnormal nearly over night. In the beginning we all scrambled to wrap our heads around what was happening first in China and then across the globe, and then the scramble to figure out our "new normal" hit shortly after February.


Birthdays were canceled. Weddings were canceled or postponed. Funerals were canceled. Church's were shut down. Masks weren't just for nurses anymore. Online shopping rose to new heights. Daycares and schools shut down. Banks closed. Jobs closed. Folks were told if they were essential or not. Teleworking was no longer a four letter word in many career fields.


Everything seemed to come to a screeching halt. And if I am being perfectly honest, there were parts of the lockdown that I really enjoyed. Being newly married, I liked the idea of seeing more of my husband. Being new cat parents, I liked the idea of our boys getting more time with the both of us. In the beginning, the lockdown felt more like a second honeymoon than a lockdown, and my husband and I very quickly discovered something really special about our marriage - we actually liked each other. We weren't just madly in love newly weds, but we actually enjoyed each other and wanted to see more and more of each other as time went on.


A small shift began in our marriage. Since the beginning of our courtship, intentionality has been very important to us. We didn't have our first kiss until our wedding day and so we had already bred this deep sense of intimacy within our relationship - intimacy that was very different from societies definition of intimacy. It fostered a very safe space between us. We constantly pursue each others hearts, not just when we dated, but even now. This lockdown was no different. We found new ways to pursue one another, new ways to laugh together, new ways to pray together, and new ways to love one another.


One of the ways that we pursue each other is through intentional conversation. There is a desire in our hearts to hear the heart of the other. Something that had been on our hearts for awhile was to start a family. We knew early into our courtship that we would be married but we decided we wanted to have a year together to be married before actively trying to conceive. However, as with all our major decisions, we would leave room for God to have the final say.


As it turns out, God did have something to say. Near the end of February, just a few weeks into the lockdown, He impressed upon my heart that it was time to start trying. I spoke to Jordan about it, and we both had peace about the decision. So we began actively trying, all the while waiting to get pregnant.


We waited. And waited. And waited. And waited.


And waited.


Then came the month that I was late by 4 days. I was convinced that I was pregnant. I had all the symptoms, but every test I took said I was not pregnant. By the fourth day, I was spiraling. I have had some health scares in the past regarding my womanhood, on top of fear due to abuses done to me in the past, and all this added up to an anxious Katelyn. I managed to get into the doctors that same day, and that is when the frustration came.


Not. Pregnant. Not even a little bit. On top of that, the only reason they had for what happened was stress. Since they couldn't really figure out why this happened, I got to go through a slew of blood tests at the gynecologists to see what was going on inside me, and to hopefully explain why we hadn't conceived in almost 7 months of actively trying.


When we got the results back from the gynecologist, that was some of the hardest news I have received in my life. As it turned out, my egg count was drastically low. The basic diagnosis was that without the help of a fertility clinic like Shady Grove it would be incredibly hard for us to conceive. Nearly impossible.


I was devastated. None of this made any sense. All I have ever wanted to be is a mother. Yes, Jordan and I know that adoption is always an option for us - in fact I have wanted to adopt since I was 5 - but the thought that I may never get the chance to carry one of my own...to feel a child grow inside of me, to give birth, and to raise our child together...that broke me. I felt like a failure. I felt like God was punishing me for my past sin of not waiting. It was one of worst pains as I felt that dream slipping further away. I had to come face to face with the fact that carrying a child may not be for me, and I had to lay it down at the cross.


I sobbed for nearly a week. The grief I felt over this loss was akin to when my mother died, and it felt very much like I had lost a child. We told our families what was happening, we received prayer at church, but even though we had an outpouring of love and support from family, I felt like a failure. I felt broken. This whole time I was still having regular cycles, and even that felt like another nail in the coffin. A woman's cycle shows that she is fertile and can carry children, but with every cycle I wasn't pregnant. With each cycle, I watched the dream of pregnancy slipping further away.


In the midst of all this, I began to feel my hearts desire towards children shift. My cry to God was now that I would be able to carry once - just once. Even if once was all I got, I would be more than satisfied. I just wanted to be pregnant once. And we had a plan. We began working with Dr. Swelstad from Shady Grove - a referral from close friends whose input and recommendations we both deeply trust. He has a kindness and a gentleness to his bedside manner that shows he genuinely cares and takes an interest in his patients. He is one of those rare doctors who really makes you feel seen and heard. He was even patient with my over explaining and millions of questions. Truly a God send.


After our initial consult with Dr. S, we began the onslaught of testing. For two months we did test after test, waited, did a few more tests, and then waited for our final consult this week with Dr. S before treatments could begin. We even had to have genetic testing done for any hereditary predispositions for birth defects or debilitating diseases, all of which came back with the very good news that our children would be okay.


The consult ended up being a very good one. Dr. S was encouraging about our tests results and he gave us quite a few options to discuss on how we wanted to move forward with treatments. There is still a lot to figure out and I feel we are still at the beginning of this journey, but now it feels like we have direction. Like I have direction.


I can't see the whole path that God has us on, in fact I can't see around the next bend. What I can see is the forest around the path. It is filled with light and has many places where the trees are thinner, places where we can rest and take space to breathe. Deep in my heart there is still a small glimmer of hope for our future children. For the little boy or girl or both that will come to us soon. They are never far from my thoughts, and for them I pray. I wish they were here now, but I also know that God is preparing our hearts for them.


I am still working through the ups and downs. Most days I am okay, but then there are moments when a verse from a song pulls at my heart strings and I become unraveled. There is still pain and uncertainty, there is still confusion as to why we are in this place. In the midst of it all, no matter how confused I have felt or angry at God, I have never once doubted Him. I haven't turned away from Him like I did when my mother died. I know He is closer to Jordan and I now than He has ever been because there is a measure of peace that has settled over my heart that was not there before.


I know, too, that I am not alone in this journey. There are many who are dealing with what we are, many who are starting on their infertility journey, and many others who have been dealing with it far longer than we have. To all those who are, I see you. I understand. I sympathize. You are not alone, just as we are not alone. This is not the end of Jordan and my journey to becoming parents, in fact it is just the beginning.


Hopefully the remainder of this roller coaster will be a bit smoother.

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