Monday, April 02, 2007

No soul that seriously and constantly desires joy will ever miss it. -CS Lewis

This entry has been formulating in my head for about six months. I tried to write it a few times, and just couldn’t. Finally, I had all my thoughts completely written. I decided to post after our cruise. Then my hard drive died committed suicide Monday and certain things were not backed up. So I’m starting from scratch.
I am going to reveal something that takes a lot of courage and humbling on my part. I am divulging it to the online community of those who read my entries (which I know is far greater than the regular ones who post comments) rather than to a private, filtered group. I have chosen this because at this point, I actually believe my speaking out will do more good than my silence any longer. By baring myself, I may be helping others. Before I speak, I would like to make a few statements. I would like to ask that in what I say, you give me (and my husband, consequently) the benefit of the doubt as Christians. Most of you probably have no personal experience in this area and limited exposure. Understand that I, As the Writer, share all this already feeling inadequate, alone, alienated, left out (intentionally and unintentionally), pitied (when I desire sympathy, not pity), lost, overlooked, and very broken. You, As the Reader, may feel criticized, misunderstood, a desire to comfort (but lost as to how), optimism for me, impatience toward me, awkwardness leading to avoiding talking to me about this… I probably have left things out that you the audience feel simply because I am not you and I cannot fully understand what you feel. With these thoughts in mind, let us please bear graciously with each other. Know too that I will merely graze the surface of what has transpired and continues to transpire; don’t assume this is exhaustive. With this preface that has piqued your curiosity I now proceed…
Think back twenty months ago to fall 2005, what were you doing then? What life changes have occurred since then: job change, move, engagement, marriage, death of a dearly loved one? That fall, Jonathan and I proceeded to a very normal step in new marriage… we sought through our love to bring a new life into this world. With joyful anticipation we kept the plan from our families, dearly wishing to surprise them with an announcement… at Thanksgiving… at Christmas… certainly before our move to Texas in January! By spring, with seven of my close friends having achieved pregnancy in their first/second months, I knew something wasn’t right. I begged and pleaded with military doctors to give me a referral to a specialist for testing. I was frustratedly turned away with a pat on the hand (“there, there”), an offer of a hankie, and the typical indolent advice that I was young, should relax, and I hadn’t been trying that long (yes, this still smarts). After attempting 3 different doctors, in May my referral went through, and by August I went to my first appointment (yes, the wait is that long). After many less than fun tests and blood work on both Jonathan and me, we were labeled “unexplained infertility.” Understand, this just means “the absence of a definable cause for a couple's failure to achieve pregnancy after 12 months of attempting conception despite a thorough evaluation.” It does not mean either of us is infertile (def: unable to produce children). Period. It also doesn’t mean there isn’t a cause, it just means the medical field isn’t advanced enough to figure it out.
There are very few MTF’s (military treatment facilities) that specialize in RE (Reproductive Endocrinology) to provide evaluation and services. Without the MTF’s, the cost is entirely out-of-pocket and terribly expensive. 1 of the ~6 in the US happened to be in San Antonio. We tried different protocols there, and plan more trips in the future. My revelation now allows more openness (which I desire) for future things that seem of import in my life: the subcutaneous shots I’ll self-administer, that trip to the ER last October and why I’m concerned about it reoccurring, the last-minute flights out to San Antonio, how good my husband has gotten at intramuscular shots (*grins*), etc. I won’t post about this often, as there are times without much to say. But now I am no longer hiding…

1 comment:

Jeanie said...

I respect you lots, Denise. And will continue to keep this in my prayers.