The Faces of Infertility
By Ash Webb, Sam Delmege, Kristen Doyle and Vidya Gopinath
National Infertility Awareness Week 2020 runs from the 19th - 25th April. In this week's blog we hear from some of our QENDO Community about their journeys, some of the ways they cope and how they keep on keeping on.
As you can imagine, infertility is a very sensitive and personal matter and we hope this blog enables couples who are struggling with infertility to find some faith that their dreams of a family are not lost, to have hope and know that we are here to support them.
At QENDO we have recently broadened our support, to include Infertility.
In this blog we hear from Sam Delmege who a proud QENDO Ambassador, Ash our Treasurer and Darling Downs Coordinator, Kristen our Fundraising Coordinator and Vidya our Gold Coast South QENDO Meet Coordinator.
The amount of raw emotion that these ladies have shown is truly nothing short of amazing. It took these ladies a few times to write their pieces, because one too many tears had flown throughout the writing process. May their stories be a guiding light for you, you are not alone.
Ash
Infertility.
For most people, it is just a word.
But for 1 in 8 couples, it's not just a word, but an emotion.
I saw this funny picture come up in my Instagram newsfeed a few weeks ago: “Fertility treatment, giving body shots a whole new meaning.” and damn, I’ve never read something so true and honest.
Infertility is daunting.
Infertility is unfair and devastating.
Infertility is exhausting.
Infertility is feeling like a failure.
Infertility is heartbreaking and devastating.
Infertility is difficult.
Infertility is embarrassing.
Infertility is isolating and lonely.
Infertility is hard yakka - physically and mentally.
Infertility sucks.
My infertility journey started shortly after my second laparoscopy. My gynaecologist mentioned that I had endometriosis, adhesions and ovarian cysts that would cause problems with mature eggs being released during ovulation. That was in 2012. In 2016 my husband and I naturally conceived our little miracle baby boy. We had never, ever known a love like having a child. Shortly after our son turned one, we had the conversation of growing our family. After a laparoscopy in April 2016 brought us to a stand still. A diagnosis of PCOS and diminished ovarian reserve, which landed us on the front door step of an IVF clinic in Brisbane, a short two hour drive from where we live.
We’re two failed cycles into our journey with only one frozen embryo. Some sayings that I’ve come across, and have start to love and say to myself are:
You are not alone.
Storms don’t last forever
This struggle is a part of your story.
As long as there is the tiniest, wildest chance - don’t give up.
The strongest women become the strongest mothers.
Don’t be ashamed to share your story, it might inspire others.
Every time a cycle fails, a part of you dies and you need to grieve for what could have been, and it’s hard to focus back on “real life.”
The very first time I had to do an injection, I was freaking out - I had no idea really what I was doing. I reached out to four ladies and asked them the best ways to self inject. My husband is absolutely terrified of needles so there was no way in the world he was going to help with that part. Once I had done the first one, every needle after that was a piece of cake., I always had to hype myself up a little but that’s just normal I guess. During my egg collections, I was fine, woke up from the anesthetic okay. (A lot better than my laproscopic surgeries as egg collection is a lighter sedation, thank goodness). Transfers are fine, and reminded me of a prolonged pap smear, uncomfortable but not painful. But the most nerve wracking part of the whole process is waiting those two weeks to do the blood test to find out if the transfer of the embryo had stuck. Every time, the morning of the blood test I did an at home pregnancy test. To be honest I didn’t, and still do not, have the strength to hear over the phone whether or not there is a baby growing. So for me doing the pregnancy tests prior, at least I was prepared for the bad news. And sadly, each time - it was just that. Sad, bad news.
Until the craziness of COVID-19 slows down, all IVF cycles have been placed on hold or cancelled. Which is sad, confusing, and testing. You feel even more helpless and annoyed that your body doesn’t do what it’s naturally “programmed” to do. In a way I am grateful that my body has a break from the extra hormones, the stabby needles and the constant invasion of my private areas. This break gives my body and mind a fresh start, ready for what will be our next great love. (hopefully!)
So in saying that. Future baby, you are already in my heart and someday you will be in my arms.
Ash shares about her fertility journey on her instagram, and would love for you to reach out if you have any questions, or require any support, she will be there for you.
Instagram: @ashweberwebb
Sam
My husband and I met in 2010. In 2013 was when we decided maybe we could try for a baby.
2013 passed- NOTHING
2014 passed- NOTHING
2015 passed- NOTHING. In 2015 I was preoccupied with organising our wedding so I didn’t think too much into it.
2016 passed- NOTHING
2017 passed- NOTHING
2018- NOTHING
Every single day thinking about a baby, thinking about starting a family, thinking about my future, thinking about me as a Mother. Wanting, wishing, hoping, praying, practically begging to get pregnant.
When we finally sought help in 2015 I was told “you’ll get pregnant more than likely first go”. Trying to have a baby is not something that should be so hard. It’s part of what we learn. You get married and you have a baby. We learn that a woman carries a baby. We don’t learn how hard it can be, we don’t learn that endometriosis can stop this happening and cause huge effects on egg quality and implantation, we don’t learn that sometimes people need to seek help. When I was taught sex education we were never told about IVF or the options available to couples so a baby can be conceived. Why is it so taboo?
Maybe if people spoke about it more it wouldn’t be so shameful.
Why would I do this to myself? Because we do. We do this because it may be our time. This next transfer may be my take home baby. What if I’m overseas and I’m pregnant? What if I miscarry overseas? What if….. So many what ifs… IVF rules your whole being. Your every thought is consumed by trying to work out the best plan for you. The best way forward. Buying vitamins because you never know, maybe that’s what will work for you, doing Acupuncture because we are lead to believe it helps with egg quality and blood flow to the uterus, eating Brazil nuts and pineapple cores, reading every single article on IVF because maybe that’s what you need to add to your next cycle which may just help, trawling through social media groups seeing what worked for everyone else and throwing these ideas at your specialist. Who knows, what worked for them may be exactly what you need. It’s like some cruel mind game. A game you just can’t get past the next level.
Having Infertility is like the jokes on us. That’s how we feel. Ironic that each failed cycle without a doubt someone tells you they are pregnant. Friends and family around you having children after having sex just once!
While you're happy for people, deep down there is a pain that aches, yearns and is desperately wishing it was you sharing that news, feeling those feelings, having morning sickness, watching a belly grow, feeling a baby kick, watching them move and wave at scans. But, each month it isn’t you!
During this journey I’ve lost all my dignity.
Having my legs in stirrups multiple times and someone staring into my private bits. Generally it’s Kee Ong who does this for a living so I don’t have to worry much about what I look like, if I have maintained and does my vagina look different to everyone else’s. Like all Drs I guess once you have seen one you have seen them all. But these are the thoughts. While I also work in theatres and see many women in these vulnerable positions it’s different when it’s me. I wanted to create my own family. My own village of love.
Wouldn’t it be great to have a magic ball telling us what our future holds.
You can keep up to date with Sam and Max’s journey here:
Blog: https://teamdelmege.blog/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/teamdelmege/
Instagram: @teamdelmage
Kristen
I have always loved children. I suppose that is why I became a teacher but truly I always deep down just wanted to be a Mum.
When I was 14 all of my friends from school had already had their periods and then there was me. The girl who was late to just about everything, including (what felt like) getting my period. I remember actually crying before I got my first period because I was scared it may never come (how naïve and innocent I was). I cried because I was so scared I could never be a Mum.
Fast forward 18 years and now I am 32 and struggling to conceive. Seems a little ironic.
I have been trying to conceive for nearly 2 years. Saying it as “2 years” feels too neat and tidy. It has been 2 incredibly long, frustrating, emotional, unfair years. I was diagnosed with Endometriosis in 2016 and Adenomyosis in 2017. From hearing my diagnoses I knew there was a possibility that having a family could be off the cards for me but I didn’t truly believe it until our journey began.
I wanted to be proactive so to prepare for pregnancy, I undertook 12 months of regular care with my Acupuncturist and Chinese Medicine practitioner before we began trying. We worked on correcting my cycle, reducing inflammation and stress and worked on improving my gut health. This overall was a great starting point because for the first time in my life I had clear blood test results on all angles. I was, so it seemed, ready to carry a child. But it wasn’t so.
We are currently doing medicated cycles with ovulation stimulation shots and an IUI procedure following. I like to think of it as “making sure all parties are at the right place at the right time”. Like some sort of blind date where I introduce my dear friend (egg) to a handsome friend (or friends in this case, sperm) and hope they hit it off. Will it end in some exciting story to share for years to come or will it end awkwardly and you never speak of it again?
How do I cope with my infertility? I let myself be sad for the length of my period. I let myself mourn each unfortunate month. It doesn’t sound healthy but it “cleans” my soul ready for the next cycle. I also use plenty of humour in my approach to my infertility (I love telling the story about how my gynae and partner high fived because of his “top grade sperm” over my half naked body prepared for an IUI cycle). My partner and I try to laugh and see the funny side in just about everything because if we didn’t I probably couldn’t cope.
Unless you have been through it, you will never really understand it. Every cycle is a rollercoaster of emotions. It feels like with every month a little piece of you is lost with every negative pregnancy test. You start to wonder if you care anymore. You mourn the life you used to have (remember when we could plan holidays? Remember when I could have a drink just because? Remember when I could eat sushi without caring what day of my cycle it is?). You start to feel like you let people down, let yourself down. You wonder if it is all worth it?
Then there is hope.
I hope for the day someone calls me “Mummy”. I hope for the day we become a family.
I hope for the day when I say – “It was all worth it!”.
Vidya
I must admit, it took me awhile to even consider writing this blog. Not because I did not want to or was short on what to say but… the thought of exposing myself and sharing something so personal was daunting! It was putting me in a vulnerable position. Culturally infertility is a taboo word and it is not something that was ‘openly’ discussed.
But here I am and the reason why I wanted to contribute to this blog is because over the years I have come to realise that it is important that we speak about this and how much all of us can benefit from having conversations about ‘infertility’.
You know when someone says to you “it will be worth the wait and it will happen to you someday”. “Your time will come”. Yah, not always what you want to hear. I mean hardly ever do you want to hear that. Sometimes it feels like they are telling you that they completely understand what you are feeling and going through.. when they don’t. All of our waits, desires, & weariness looks different. Other times it feels like they are just saying it to say it….like it’s something to say to sad people who are battling a long wait or a desire, so the words feel empty and unnecessary. I know some of you can relate to this & we all have had to have our own waiting time at some point in our life, but today as someone who has waited her fair share of years for a baby, who has endured so many ups and down, and who has heard all of those lines that are supposed to comfort us… I know in my heart forever that the struggle is going to be worth the wait & a beautiful part of the story…
It’s not beautiful right now. It’s being low, having expectations when you go through multiple IVF, it’s loneliness when all of your friends talk about their babies and how busy life is with their bundle of joy or how you should enjoy your life while you can, it’s heartache when your ovaries are struggling to even produce eggs due to endometriosis, it’s pain after multiple surgeries, stage 4 endometriosis occasionally making its comeback and all those high doses of hormone injections to stimulate your struggling ovaries, it’s everything that I never thought I would ever go through.
It’s watching everyone get pregnant around you & feeling tossed aside. Some days are a struggle to get up in the morning , a struggle to try and be happy and remind yourself to be grateful for the things you have and that things could be worse, it’s a struggle to trust the universe through it all. All those tears, mood swings and cuddles with your other half and dog. The sleepless nights due figuring out how to change your ivf protocol and what else can you do differently.
It’s crazy to think that all of these struggles right now to grow our family will someday be looked back on in a beautiful light when it’s under such an ugly microscope right now. How can this struggle ever be beautiful? How will we ever appreciate this struggle? How will this struggle ever be worth the wait that is said in that horrible cliche of an aspiring comforting line?
Rewind 10 years ago, fertility was not even part of the equation. I always thought life is a cycle and children will eventually happen. So, I kept going with what life had to offer – a great job, making a life in a new country and managing endometriosis in between everything. It never occurred to me that infertility was so brutal and soul draining. But, I guess the one word that keeps me going is ‘hope’
The word ‘hope’ gives me strength, determination and resilience. Hope tells me that one day this may happen…...
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