So Far, So Long

(I struggled long and hard about posting this—this really deep, long-winded and whiny post—but writing this may be the greatest dose of therapy I get through this journey, so thanks for your support in advance. Also, I plan to post some drunk pictures tomorrow. Something lighter to look forward to!)

When Mike and I began trying for a baby, there was this nervous excitement that bubbled up and out of us, and it constantly filled our house. It was all we could talk about, think about. We scoured the Internet for baby names, we bought a pair of monkey shoes (on clearance at Target) because they were too adorable to put back on the shelf and we talked about how, in all seriousness, we were going to prepare Molly for the change. It was one of the coolest decisions I have ever been a part of—the decision to have a baby with this guy I loved.

But as the months and months have ticked by, without a baby, the mood has shifted. We are still excited, we still want a baby with every part of us, but we have also been beaten up by this journey. We are hardened. We are sad. And most of all—I think in a way I'll never be able to accurately describe—we are scared.

I feel like I need to be honest because so many well-intentioned (and wonderful!) people have made countless suggestions in order to help us but—and please trust me—I've been to the doctor nearly twenty times over the last year. I've researched my condition. We have a course of action, a game plan, and I am on vitamins and prescribed drugs and usually without caffeine and, please please please believe me when I say, there is not a breath of advice you could offer that hasn't already been offered, hasn't already been thought of by my husband, by myself and by the (literal) team of medical professionals I see on a regular basis. It's not as simple as relaxing and it really won't happen when we stop trying—trust me. But we are doing our best to relax when we can. (I slept until noon yesterday. Fine, 12:30.)

I want to candidly write about this experience, though, because I do believe we'll have a baby one day (somehow) and if I choose to write about it then, with perspective and hindsight, some rawness and vulnerability will be lost. And when we do have a child, I want that child to be able to look back and know how much they were wanted and loved before they were ever created. I want to have a record to show him or her of how badly I wanted them to exist. So badly I began taking medicine that made me want to punch everyone I saw. Right in the head. I want to be able to say to our son or daughter, "Love, I wanted you so badly, I drastically cut back the amount of champagne I drink. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS? I wanted you more than I wanted a fourth season of Veronica Mars."

This experience has been the hardest thing I've ever done, gone through, felt. I have never before felt stronger and more broken all at the same time. I've never known such emptiness and pain and failure while simultaneously feeling so hopeful and optimistic and certain that it's meant to happen, someway. And here's where I'm humbled: we are not alone, we are not exceptional, we are in the "easy" part of this fertility-challenged club. We're just trekking through a particularly rocky valley where other couples are digging themselves out of hell itself. We have so damn much to be grateful for. We know that.

I don't want to go into too many details because that will require using medical terminology, and I find that when I send a label out into the Internet the Internet responds with a ferocity and an energy I have never before seen and I immediately become dizzy fielding all the (really well-intentioned!) advice that I'm pounded with. So, let's just say I have a condition that requires medical intervention on a fairly basic level. And it's a multi-stepped process, meaning we have to clear one hurdle at a time, but we really can't be promised how many total hurdles there will be. We've cleared a few so far. We anticipate a few more. We're prepared for that. But, lord, we just can't ever be totally sure.

So, let me say a couple of things. Some days are easy. Some days we are deeply hopeful and we secretly peruse nursery bedding and we think to ourselves, A January baby will be fun! We can tease them endlessly about missing the tax cut! Just think, we'll have the same birthstone! And then the hope crumbles and we look to the next month and we straighten our backs while our hearts fracture a little more. Some days we are ridiculously optimistic—we may have just gotten good news from our doctor, we have gotten a prescription for a drug that may help or we are feeling especially positive about things. Other days I force a lot of smiles, I choke on a lot of tears, I even throw a thing or two.

I have gained weight through this process and that's because I've been comforting myself with food and I have got to stop that. It's not helping anything; it's only making things worse. I have turned on myself in a way I never anticipated. Why can't I do what so many can? Why didn't Mike choose another woman, one who could give him what he desperately wants? And please don't tell me how wrong it is to think this way. I know it is. I rationally know everything. I could write a book about how to think clearly and rationally. But, fuck, I'm a human being. Thoughts creep into my head, and although I push them out as quickly as I can, they still come round sometimes. I will apologize for a lot, but I won't apologize for having them in the first place. And I think it's a natural place to wander, this dark punishing place. We don't want to go there, but it's where we end up sometimes. It's just how it is.

I can't tell you how much longer I can take this. Just when I think I can't take any more disappointment, I get a surge of resilience and I march through another month. I can't tell you what is up ahead. If this whole journey has taught me only one thing it's that you can't plan a day of your life without something popping up and surprising the hell out of you. And, lord, it's kind of irritating, isn't it? How insane life is, how little we have control of things. We can chart and monitor and research and Google like a sonuvabitch, but we're never really in charge. So much isn't in our hands. And accepting that fact—the fact that I am not in control of this, no matter how knowledgeable and proactive I've become—is the single hardest thing I've ever done. All I want to do is fix, do, plan, figure out (like a good little Capricorn) and instead I have had to learn to breathe deeply, rely on faith, lean on my husband, vent to the people closest to me, stop beating myself up and hang on for dear life.

I am a drastically different person today than I was last year. I am forever changed, regardless of what happens for us. I will never be the same. But that's a good thing. It is. Trudging through all this pain has toughened me, strengthened me, humbled me, and I know that all of this will make me a great mother one day.

I have received so many e-mails from friends—which is what I consider many of you. You ask me how I am; you offer your prayers. And I wish I could tell you how you've saved me when you've done that. How I sometimes open an e-mail when I'm teetering on breaking down, and you give me resolve. I dust myself off because of your words—not words of advice, but of support. You are angels, every single one of you. I was told, when we first started trying, not to tell anyone. And I think that's actually good advice. In fact, it's advice I'd offer up myself, to anyone who asked. But I, personally, could not have come this far with my lips sealed shut. I would have collapsed, long ago. I'm not going through this alone, and that is why I'm still going through it at all. You (reading this or otherwise) are why I didn't give up and buy a puppy three months ago.

Again, I do believe we'll have a child one day, somehow, and I believe we deserve one and will love one and will have fun with one and will enjoy showing our son or daughter the world. I know I will be a good mother. I believe a lot of things that make this experience worth it when it's crushing down on me. When we do have one, when the journey brings us to the one moment we're striving for, the first moment I hold my child, I'm going to tell him or her—right after, "Baby, don't ever let your father convince you Mythbusters is quality television"—is this:

Before having you changed my life, wanting you did.

Comments

[Jen]

That was one of the very best posts, I've ever read and one that I wish I had read when I was struggling to get pregnant with my first child. I'm a new reader but know that you have my support, my best wishes and a new loyal reader to follow you on your journey.
All my best,
Jen

[Leah]

Beautiful. And having been there myself to a degree, I know what you mean about those "wrong" thoughts that seep into your head against all rationality. In fact, I think that was the toughest thing for me: the sense of betrayal and failure (that leads to a really icky form of self-hate) that came out of not being able to do (for myself, for Simon, for my family) what so many others do (or seem to do) so effortlessly.

The good news is that you know where you stand and you know your options. The good news is that there are good days in between the bad ones. The good news is that every day--every single day--you are one step closer to holding that baby.

[jodi]

oh hon, I'm so sorry if I was one of those people who gave you unwanted advice. I offer nothing but hugs and support. And, if you need to vent, talk, cry, I'm here.

Want to come to DC and babysit an out of control 3 year old, just let me know!

[Nic]

I have nothing to offer except (((hugs))). As a reader, I plan to keep reading throughout this journey, offering my hugs and support when I can.

[Katie]

After reading through that whole post, I still love the last line best. Your honesty is very brave, but so very much appreciated by us, your readers, because we care about you and Mike and Molly and that wonderful baby that you will one day have.

[Sharon]

That was so beautiful. Thank you for sharing. I don't really know what else to say, since I don't really "know" you, but you and Mike are in my thoughts and prayers.

[jean]

Boy, if there was ever a time that I wish I had some answers, this is it. Hang in there.

[Bug's mama]

I've been there sweetie, I understand every feeling that is pouring out of you right now and you know what? You're right, you will be a better mother for all of this. You will hold your baby tighter and willingly sit up at night. Every ounce is worth it and I truly believe you when you say that you WILL be a mother, you will. Thank you for sharing this with us, we're on this ride with you.

[bethany actually]

Reading this, I couldn't help thinking that you and Mike are ahead of the curve. You've already learned something that most people don't realize till they've actually held their babies in their arms, spent sleepless nights pacing floors, willingly chosen Dora the Explorer over the latest Brad Pitt movie: having a child changes you and the way you see the world forever.

You know you have my prayers and support, always. :-)

[rebecca]

"I have had to learn to breathe deeply, rely on faith, lean on my husband, vent to the people closest to me, stop beating myself up and hang on for dear life."
You totally nailed where I am at as well. The moments when i think i cannot bear any more grief, my heart cannot break any more, that baby rollercoaster picks up speed and pushes me to have hope again.
i'll tell you it will get easier, if you tell me the same thing. *love*

[Jennifer H]

Your entire post was heart-wrenching, but the last line was the most beautiful thing I have read in a long time. Thank you for sharing. I'm sending hugs and prayers and happy thoughts across the wires.

[barbetti]

I hear you. Knowing others have walked this path and struggled as well does not make the difficulties of this journey any easier for you or Mike. You've told me that I am strong, but really, you are strong. Not many people can go through this experience with optimism that it will eventually happen for them and with the determination you have.

You will have children one day and you will be an exceptionally great mother. Hopefully, your children will inherent your beautiful way with words, moving complete strangers to tears with your honesty and humility.

The world is round and the place which may seem like the end may also be only the beginning. As always, you are in my thoughts and prayers.

[jonniker]

Living through it now, man. I hear you. And worse? I haven't even cleared the first hurdle, which is FIND A DOCTOR WHO WILL LISTEN TO ME.

[Jemima]

Someday, your baby is going to be really, really lucky to have you. Sending you a huge, enormously deep breath that will hopefully last until you get some good news. In the meantime, shit, go drink some champagne anyway.

We are talking about talking about trying soon (does that make sense?) and it scares the hell out of me. It's been a really hard process for a lot of the women in my life, but amazingly, it's made their marriages and their motherhood (yes, they all had happy endings) even stronger. I'm sure that it will for you too.

[anne]

I am thinking of you - in fact just today, hoping that you guys had some success. I think what irks me so is my fear that when we decide to try I will be in some similar boat. I think that is what is why I think so hard and long for you to find that hope.

[Someone Being Me]

I had a conversation this weekend with my grandmother prompted by a discussion about a close family member who has kids but has no business having kids. My grandmother is a deeply religious person and I have never heard her once question God's plan or her faith. This weekend she told me that, that was the one single issue she really struggled with understanding. Why God gave children to people who didn't need or want them and left people who desperately wanted children without them. It breaks my heart. I wish that every baby had parents who wanted them and loved them like you and Mike love your future baby. I pray that someday you will have more than one precious baby and that they will see how loved they are and appreciate it.

[Jess]

I have never tried to get pregnant and so I have no idea if I will face similar hurdles, but I am afraid that I will, and I am certain that if I do I will come back to this post and devour it, because you say it all so well.

[Dianna]

Jennie, you are going to be an incredible mother when the time comes and it will. I really have no advice because I have never been in the position you are, but I am keeping my fingers crossed for you and Mike for a March baby. It will come, one way or another. Sending love and hugs your way.

[moo]

I don't know you. But I swear to god, I thought about you on Saturday. Because I went into Target and there was a woman who looked like you, pushing a buggy. And trailing behind her was her husband, clearly, with their very small daughter perched on his shoulders.

And with a clarity and a certainty, I thought ... I bet she gets pregnant soon.

I hope I'm right.

[Kitty]

*hugs*, *more hugs*, and yes, *even more hugs*. I'm rooting for you, honey. All I have to offer is this: When it happens, my don't-like-kids butt is going to find the absolute perfect baby shower gift for you. And if at all possible, I'll even deliver it in person. ;) I'll keep all of you in my thoughts. You will be an AWESOME mommy.

[Kristie]

I know I've said this before, but that kid is such a lucky one. To be wanted so badly. He or she will be one of the luckiest kids on the planet. And I know that someone or something has a plan for you all, and I can't wait for it all happen. I just know it will be amazing. Love to you, Michael and Baby Canzo. You all are loved so much.

[slynnro]

I thought about you a few times this weekend, seeing one of my best friends and her new baby. Because seeing her with that baby made me wish I wanted a baby because of how happy it makes her. And I can't imagine wanting that and struggling to get it. You are right- it will all work out and you will be stronger for getting it the hard way.

[Raven]

I think that there would be nothing better than being a "wanted child" but then I realize that there is something better, being the "wanted child" of someone as wonderful as you.

I totally understand the feeling of having a body that doesn't do what it was made for and living in the upside down world that it creates.

I'm here for you whenever you need honey; I just haven't e-mailed to check in more, because I didn't want to pick at an open wound.

*HUG*

[MissyE]

Wow. What a powerful post. As I have said before you have a way with expressing your feelings that I wish I had. That's the thing about lifes journeys,you never know where they will take you or what you will be put through, the best part I feel is that whatever you go through good or bad makes you who you are. Without these ups and downs you wouldn't be able to know what you are capable of and it is amazing what a person can live through and come out of even stronger than they went in. Even though we dont know one another my thoughts and prayers are with you. ((hugs))too :)

[merrymishaps]

You'll be a wonderful mother.
Sending hugs and positive baby-making vibes your way.

[Sarah]

This is probably one of the best posts I have ever read, not just from you but ever. But that is not the point of this comment. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on or scream at or just be distracted by, mine is ready,willing and able. I know we don't know each other very well but I feel a kinship with you on some level and that is why I feel so propelled to offer my support.

[Emily]

Thanks for sharing :-) Sending *hugs* and *hope* your way.

[Angella]

Oh, sweetie.

You know that I think of you daily and pray for you often.

This was beautiful.

May your womb be fruitful and bear the babies you were born to mother.

xo

[Heather B.]

Wow, Jen. Just wow.

[Heather B.]

Wow, Jen. Just wow.

[Jen]

Amazing post. I know this will happen for you guys. It will.

[Rachel]

I too offer hugs and the words that I'm thinking of you...You will be a wonderful mother, and it's evident by the emotions that you express and wanting to be a mother so badly. I too want to have a baby and wonder how hard it might be for me. I'm scared too for the future...

[bunny]

This was truly a phenomenal post. I wish you all the hope in your endeavors, and of course you know that everything happens for a reason. I think what resonated the most for me personally were the words, "And please don't tell me how wrong it is to think this way. I know it is. I rationally know everything. I could write a book about how to think clearly and rationally. But, fuck, I'm a human being." - That is so true. I've gone through a lot of (of course different) struggles in my own life, and those words sum up what I constantly thought...constantly think. We're all only human... Your time with a little one will come.

[Pickles & Dimes]

Absolutely beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. You and Mike deserve the best. And you two will be awesome parents.

[Nicole]

Such powerful words. They brought me to tears. I am holding so much hope in my heart for y'all.

[Banana]

This is so beautiful and heartfelt. I am sending positive and warm thoughts your way. I've said it before, but you and Mike will make amazing parents.

[Kristen]

When your baby finally gets here (no matter when that is), you'll be the greatest mom. I don't know you, but I am totally sure of that.

[Ashley]

This was heartwrenching. I can't say I know what you're going through because I don't know one iota but my heart goes out to you. I do know you shouldn't have to go through this alone and I'm glad you have a wonderful support system in your husband and your friends to help you pull through this. You are going to be a wonderful mother. I will be rooting for you, as I'm sure everyone else is, every step of the way. Just keep your head up and keep going, it'll all be worth it in the end!

[Karmyn]

Beautiful. Thanks for choosing to be open and authentic during a time when I know how tempting it is to just say you're "fine". You have strength and character that your future kids will love and admire.

[Moose]

This is lovely.

I'm so sorry you're going through a rocky time. Making that decision to have kids feels so enormous and so permanent, and it's devastating when it doesn't go the way you expect.

But I strongly feel that by hook or crook, we will both have kids one day. Hopefully soon.

[Amanda Brown]

I am so moved by this. I admire your honesty and transparency and this post will be the ultimate gift to show your child one day.
Strength to you and Mike.

[Rebecca]

Your future children will be so blessed to have you and Mike has their parents...and of course Molly as big sis!!

[Jen]

Wishing you all the best on the journey.

[Jennie]

What an incredible post. Thank you for sharing.

[Danielle]

Beautiful words. Tugging.at.heartstrings.
That last sentence:
You need to make a pretty sign with that on it to put up in the nursery.

[Elizabeth]

I think this post was very brave.
And I absolutely know you'll be a wonderful mother.
This post reminded me so much of what motherhood is like. I hope that doesn't sound patronizing - I just think if you are able to wrap your brain around a loss of control earlier on - it will make parenthood that much easier. That was the hardest thing for me when I became a mom.

[Ann]

This was a very powerful post. I now feel pretty silly for the useless baby making technique I left in your comments a few weeks ago. :)

With love, hope, and faith that it will all work out as it's meant to, you and Mike will get through this diffucult time. Your child will be so blessed.

[Kate]

Your child is already leagues ahead of many children who have already been born. Why? you ask. Because they are wanted desperately, loved passionately and unconditionally, and have two parents who already pray for them daily. That right there gives them an advantage that far too many children don't have these days.

Parenting is hard and life-changing. But it can't be any more so than the long and bumpy road some take to becoming parents. I pray your bumpy road ends very soon.

Hang in there Jennie.

[Angela]

I came over from Jodifur. And you have a new reader. Because after my own 11 year struggle to get pg (and I have a beautiful 2 year old now at the end of that long journey) I love reading about others who have been facing those same challenges because I LOVE seeing THAT post. You know the one. The one where they divulge that the second line finally appeared. The one where they find out they finally have a wonderful reason to celebrate. (And this time without champagne, but they don't even care!)

And I want to see THAT post from you.

I can say, that as hard as those 11 years of trying were, we were so READY for a baby (emotionally, mentally) that we have enjoyed every minute of this whole thing. The entire pregnancy was wonderful (even the morning sickness-although I was lucky and it wasn't that bad for me) the birth was wonderful (even though I ended up with an emergency C-section) and although there are some challenges, it's really so much easier than it would have been had we been able to get pg right away (when I was 21 years old). I suppose in the end God knew what he was doing, but that didn't make those 11 years any easier back then. It only makes them make more sense now.

I look forward to hearing more about your journey, and seeing THAT post from you.

Best wishes!

[Katie]

WOW I just happened over here from another girls blog because I like Purple too LOL and after reading this post my mouth is still hanging open. What a completely open and honest and amazingly written post! I am so sorry for your struggles but your strength and perserverence is truly inspiring!