Tag Archives: Infertility

Lie Like a Persian Rug (sic) (PG)

I’m going to deal with a couple of things in today’s blog.

Lying. My dad passed on some of the stuff Uncle Donald had told his daughter, my cousin, about his experience growing up. His brother was livid. (Love that word.) He said that he got his first bike when he was twenty years old. He wasn’t the only son to receive a bike – none of them had bikes. There are other “memories” to share, but what is the point? We can be glad we don’t live close to the lying uncle and I will adjust to not believing anything he says.
B’s dad was a liar too, so when I talk to him about all this he doesn’t have comfort for me. B already endured it. Not only that, while he was pretty much his dad’s sole caregiver, his dad was lying about that. It shows a lot of forgiveness that B is over it, but we’re still uncomfortable around that side of the family because we don’t really know what he said. Ladies and Gentlemen: Stop lying. If you don’t, you suck.

Baby – First thing out of Small’s mouth this morning was asking about a baby. She asked when we would get one in the future. I’ve told her easily one hundred times that there will be no baby. I try to tell her that I’m broken and that we can’t do it. I don’t tell her that he dad had a vasectomy. (And his doctor has done hundreds and hundreds without one failing, so shut up about your friend whose did.) The only way we’ll get a baby is if someone leaves one to us when the parents die. The probability of more children is very low. I wish I could tell her we’d get a dog instead, but I don’t know if even that will ever happen, either.

This week I gained .8 pounds. That’s what I get when I eat cheetos and pie and ice cream. Oh, and a bit of three pieces of cake. I deserve it but will drop it quickly, I hope. I’ve loved yoga and so long as I’m active in my practice, my shoulder stays healed. I skipped two days, though, so I best get on it. It’s a ten year old injury and needs some attention.

$30. People like to give me money. It’s wonderful, as we don’t have a lot discretionary income and I get things that I want but don’t need. Examples would be Sonic Happy Hour where Small and I get 50 cent slushies, or hair dye. Silly things like that. B has one pair of athletic shoes so I decided to buy another pair for him. Sweet and generous, non?. Problem is that $30 was removed from my wallet. I don’t know where or when it happened but I don’t have the money anymore. It is so stupid to be in our situation. If blame for our financial situation was to be handed out I would probably deserve a lot of it. I would rather live under grace than blame and guilt though. I have every reason to suck up that grace. I will, but I still want the money back.
Baby needs a new pair of shoes.

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More on not having more

We can’t, can’t, can’t have more babies. I am able to, theoretically, however, My last pregnancy meant vomiting for eight months, up to three times a day. This was before my diagnosis with a major psychiatric illness or three.

To have another baby I would have to go off all of those meds. (I take, like, 11 pills a day.) This would mean multiple hospital stays lest I kill myself and others.

Then who knows what I would do to the baby..

Since I first saw the quiverful life style and read the literature, I’ve been fascinated by the quiverful philosophies and lives. It seemed to me to be in direct opposition to the world’s ideas about children and family life. I wanted that sort of dependence and trust in God.

I pray more and more and think about it more and more and am convinced that my quiver is full.

There is a hunter that makes the point, “Speed doesn’t kill a dear, one well placed arrow does.”

There is a malakoa that makes the point it took only one stone for David to slay Goliath. It may mean that is what my daughter is…. one, well placed stone.

There is scriptural support for many lifestyles…. however, there is no place, as I understand, that says to have as many children as you possibly can.

We went from being strongly urged not to have more to told explicitly it was a very bad idea to do so. We prayed. We settled on our decision. It’s sad to me, but not all the places God takes us are supposed to make us happy. He loves me too much to spoil me with everything I want all the time…. I am praying how to carve joy out of this situation, and I think the way I’ve been able to share my path with others is one way He’s going about it.

I can’t compare my lives with women who have “real” infertility – the barren womb, my early miscarriage is nothing compared to a late term loss, let alone the death of a child… I do, however, know more than a little bit about disappointment with life, relationships and dreams. The barren womb, the loneliness, the feeling of being overwhelmed. Do you? Would you chose?

Right now the greatest joy of my life comes from my family – but tied for second is ministering to those who are struggling, or disgruntled (funny word) with life – and writing. Am I helping you? Do you think it’s worth it?


I wished for a white picket fence.

I had a dream of a house full of boys, yelling at them to stop jumping on the couch so they wouldn’t keep hurting themselves, feeding them big plates of spaghetti and getting bundled up to go to the snow. I imagined six little feet pushed up on the side of the bathtub while I sudsed them down and six little hands sticky from eating cotton candy at the fair. I wanted a golden retriever for them to wrestle with and a white picket fence.

However, secondary infertility reared its head.  We have been very strongly urged not to have more children.

The reason we shouldn’t have more biological children is not complicated. I have one major psychiatric illness, and two minor ones. I take a number of medications that allow me to function in society, take care of my family and take care of myself. One is an amphetamine. I vomit during pregnancy excessively and will surely get dehydrated…. One of the drugs is toxic at high levels in the blood stream.

Adoption is also prohibitive. Most countries don’t want people taking psychotropic medications to be adoptive parents. On paper we look like a huge risk. I would not mind domestic adoption but we’re not at a point we can pursue this now.

Unfortunately during the time I was in the most pain six, yes six of my good friends got knocked up. When one announced her at Bible Study I went upstairs and sobbed and sobbed until I thought everyone had gone home. At story time two of them would sit on either side of me; It felt like they were flaunting their gorgeous bellies. One precious sister had tried everything to get pregnant and did just a while later than I did with my first, only to be surprised with number two less than a year later. I truly rejoiced at her miraculous news, as I did in different ways for all of you, but I couldn’t talk to you or be around the babies (or any of them) without choking up or breaking down.

I avoided them at church, didn’t accept invitations for coffee, play dates or birthday parties, didn’t go to baby showers, didn’t want to hold theirbabies, didn’t return calls, basically as I write this down I realize what I jerk I have been in my own quest for self-preservation.

This was two years ago and I am now recently at a place I can pray God multiplies your families as well as their joy.

It’s not the same, but I’m not sure I could handle the bustling family I once dreamt of. I definitely would not be able to write these devotions as often as I like. I couldn’t breaks like I need them, read as much as I do, and spend the time I want to with more than my little girl. She’s not The Source of my satisfaction, but she is A Source, just like my husband, my church, and my extended family.  I don’t know if three boys would have satisfied me too, but any road I chose has tinges of disappointment.

I am 33 years old, with one wonderful daughter instead of three, and little hope of more. I’m almost at the point that I do not want more. I no longer feel like I need more to have the life I dreamt of. The only thing I originally wanted that I got was a white picket fence, and we lost that to the bank.   Still, I am getting what I need.  My daughter bounces on her trampoline. We took her to the snow and she liked it. I wash two feet instead of six. We’re praying about getting a dog maybe next year, but it will be a small dog, not a big drooly retriever.

I often tell friends, “Delight in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.” (Psalm 37:4). It wasn’t a punishment from the Lord for not delighting in him, but I’ve gotten to this place by choosing to delight in Him and being incredibly thankful for the family I do have.