Our Story: Intro & Part I

INTRODUCTION

For a while, this corner of the blogosphere has gone silent. Summer has been crazy, I’ve switched careers, and I’ve been working on a pretty intense blog project. I knew it would be long, but I had no idea how long. So any time I had to work on the blog, which was limited at best, was spent working on this project. What is it?

     

     The next few installments of “Tales of Twins From the Frontline” will be a bit of a departure from the tone you’ll normally find here. A lot of the folks who read this young blog know at least a little piece of our story. Jess and I, like a growing number of parents of twins, have them as the result of in vitro fertilization. For so many who suffer through infertility---and suffer is a vast understatement---IVF has graciously given hope, when it seems all but exhausted. The moment a couple learns that they are finally pregnant tops all other joys up to that point. And that joy is so pure because of the unimaginable pain and frustration you have to experience to get there. 

     So for a little while, I’d like to take you through one couple’s journey, warts and all.  What I hope to accomplish by talking about this very personal part of our lives is three-fold:

•  Shine a light on the curious struggle of infertility

• Offer an informal “do” and “don’t” guide for those who may know a couple going through infertility

• Most importantly, give hope to those who are going through infertility themselves

To do this story justice, honesty is crucial. In this case, it means opening things that only Jess and I have ever talked about and putting them out there for anyone to read. Jess tends to be much more private than I am, so a tip of the cap to her for green-lighting this open window to our worst moments together. We both went through hell, but women always have it worse. There are things in here that I don't feel she's 100% comfortable with, but, like me, would like our experience to give comfort and a ray of light to those who are going through this joy-absorbing condition.

We’ll get back to the laughs in due time….

OUR STORY: PART I

 
 

“Let’s Wait a Year”

July 14, 2007 was one hell of a day. In front of 100 of our closest friends and relatives, Jess and I were married in a beautiful arboretum, followed by a ridiculously fun reception, and drinks til closing time at the hotel bar. And from what we heard, there were some epic after-parties.  Jess and David Sprague began their legal life together and we were excited to spend the next year having fun as newlyweds.

There was never any doubt in either of our minds that children were in our future, but the plan was to wait a year. We didn’t want to jump right into parenthood. And the next year was pretty damn fun. We went to Mexico for our honeymoon, back to Mexico to attend a wedding, then to Las Vegas for my sisters’ 30^th birthday. We also partied it up at a college football game, had a nutty New Year’s Eve, had amazing dinners and explored Boston. It was a selfishly fulfilling year, and now we were ready to focus efforts on a more important cause. 

"Here We Go" 

In June 2008 we started trying to conceive.  Our thoughts drifted to how fun the next summer would be, followed by apple picking in the fall, Christmas cards, etc. We didn’t do much research, figuring the species has been successfully propagated for a pretty long time without homework. We just conducted a handful of Google searches which all pretty much said the same thing: keep it romantic, don’t put pressure on yourself, and let things happen. So we did.

June, July, and August passed and our First Response sticks didn’t produce any “+” signs. I wouldn’t say panic set in, but we wrongly assumed that this would only take a few months. Disappointed as we were, Jess and I considered our next move. We went to Barnes and Noble one afternoon and picked up a few books about overcoming it naturally.  Everything we read said not to worry until after a year of infertility.  

Through our now-intensified research, we learned about “The Rhythm Method”. For the uninitiated, here’s the quick of it: Essentially, the woman’s body spikes in temperature as she ovulates. During that spike, the egg is most-ready to be fertilized and couples should attempt conception. There is a less-than-two-day window of opportunity that only seems to apply to folks who can’t conceive. Teenagers on the honor roll, people who find excuses not to work and couples with drug problems can get pregnant at will.  And quite frequently, it appears.

It was at this point that our sex life became less romantic. Our intimate encounters were now something we had to do…at a specific time. It wasn’t intimate, it usually wasn’t sexy…it was a task on the schedule. “So let’s take a look at the schedule. Hmmm. Dry cleaning, run to the bank….oh crap. Sex.” The lessening of sexual intimacy is one of the many frustrating symptons that infertility subjects upon a couple.

But we kept on.  Waiting. Waiting. A few more months passed with no good news. Were we doing this right? Was it my fault we didn’t get pregnant this month? Was it her fault? Our minds drifted to unhealthy places and we had a handful of blame-game arguments.  For the first time this process was having a visible affect on our relationship. Our frustration with the situation morphed into frustration with each other, and we weren’t talking to anyone about our problem. So inevitably, we took it out on the only other person involved.

"New Year...Same Results"

Having a child became our obsession and nothing we did seemed to matter. On New Year’s Eve of 2008, six months into our infertility, we went to Maine for a big party with great friends. The hostess, Jess’ best friend, was pregnant with her first child. As happy as we were for them, her pregnancy was another reminder that we were childless. Jess hoped the two of them would be on track to have children around the same time. This probably wasn’t going to happen.

As we hit the one-year mark of trying with no luck, our friends welcomed a gorgeous baby girl to the world in early June of 2009.  That night Jess and I lay in bed and reassured each other that some day we would also make “good news phone calls”.  But I don’t think either of us truly believed it. A year of infertility had passed, and the seeds of doubt took root. And it was only going to get worse. The erosion of hope was the next, and possibly the worst, casualty of infertility. 

Part II coming soon....