Making a Statment.. from a soap box.

A few weeks ago, on my favourite blog, it was mentioned that it was National Infertility Awareness Week (in the US) and she asked the question: What are you doing to raise awareness of infertility?

Despite my original comment (that i was intending on using all my negative HPT's as an embellishment on my home-made Christmas cards) I do nothing to raise awareness. This is something I hope to change.

I'm not going to go downtown and stand on a soap box with a picture of my ovaries, but I do want to do something more that I have been. I talk to my family and friends, and I am pretty open to people about our difficulty. I have bought items in support of PCOS research, wear a pin and have a fancy magnet slapped to the back of my car. But what is this really doing to raise awareness? Nothing unless someone is interested in Googling what it means.

The problem is, no one really cares about infertility unless it is happening to them. It is a highly personal problem. I frequent a few sites for women TTC and have seen so much competitiveness and animosity. Women trying for their first are jealous of couple trying for their second, often spurting the painful phrase "At least you have one". Women trying for their second are usually TTC veterans, often having had trouble with the first one as well. The common thread is it hurts the same for everyone. There is no rating system for emotional pain. Trying for my first was heartbreaking. Month after month (24 of them!) of nothing. This time it hurts the same, because I know what I am missing this time. There is no glorified image of a silent baby, a well rested mom with a feast on the table to entertain the 15 unexpected guests. I know the ups and downs and I miss it. As Bug gets older I remember more and more of the tiny human he was.

But if I had been able to conceive easily, would I care so much? Would I notice so much that every year that passes the less fertile I am becoming? I think my point here is: if I was fertile would I care about infertiles?

I would love to say I would but other than myself, I don't know anyone actively TTC that is an infertile. I have a friend that also has PCOS, and when her time comes to have a baby I am going to give her all the support that I wish I had had when we tried for Bug. Because even the most well meaning fertile people don't really understand. So how do we help them?

I think it is important to be vocal. Being infertile isn't about sex. When I first began telling people that we were trying for a baby, I often joked that I was subtly telling them that "We have a lot of sex." Because in the begining that is what makes a baby right? That's all you need.. normally.

And now for something completely different.

Yes, I am the mother of one. It's not such an amazing feat. Many mother's have one. In fact. you have to have one to get to two! The difference with me is that I might never get to have another. I move from place to place, with loads of baby items, in boxes that may never see the light of day again because I can't stand the thought of giving up hope. (and that is the last pity comment you will hear from me... today) But I would be pissed right off if I gave it all away and got pregnant the next month. (Well. Not really. I am sure the pregnancy would outshine my pissed-off-edness)

I am not a great mother because I only have one. Some days the I am so preoccupied with conceiving a second, that at the end of the day I realise that I am short changing the one I have. Then I know it is time to re-connect.

I am a stay at home mom with a limited income. I don't have my son in all the coolest play groups, and dressed to the nines. Having one child doesn't automatically enable you to have these luxuries. Our play group is a walk to the park, and a swim in the pool. And he may wear good brand names, but they are all second hand.

I have thought of all the changes that would come with having a second child, and I admit I have had my doubts. Bug is at an age where he's fun, and he communicates well. Having a newborn, having to relearn a new personality and finding how to help them fit into the family is a fairly scary task when you are comfortable with the little one you already have. Some days I am ready, others I am not. I feel the same way about washing windows too though, so I really shouldn't be weighing these feelings against the benefit of having another child.

Introduction.

Let me start with an introduction. My name is Winter, and I am the mother of one. I am possibly never going to be able to have another child. I say possibly, because I wasn’t supposed to ever have the son I do have, so I leave the window open in case another miracle wants to come in.
I have PCOS (Polycystic Ovary Syndrome) Among many symptoms, the worst ones that I have are infertility, obesity, excess hair growth (not in the good places), abnormal menstrual cycle. The entire list is quite elaborate, and if you have any or a couple of these, you really should talk to your doctor.
We started our journey to have a child in 2002. I stopped taking birth control, and thought “there, in a month or so, I will be pregnant!” but a year passed and still being non-pregnant, I went to my Dr. He ran a few hormone tests, and sent me to a specialist. The specialist prescribed me Metformin and told me to lose some weight. Some might know that this is a drug for diabetes. It is also a great drug to assist women with PCOS with getting their hormone back in line. After taking the drug for 6 months, I was pregnant. It doesn’t always happen like this, and the chances of me actually conceiving (I had only ovulated twice in that time frame) were extremely low.
After my son was born, I was naïve enough to believe that my infertility had been “cured”. When Rhys was 3 months old we decided that we would start trying for our second baby. I had gained a lot of weight, and because one of the symptoms of PCOS is being unable to easily lose weight (as if it is easy for anyone!) I still have the weight I gained with him. I didn’t think it was an issue until a year later, when I still wasn’t pregnant! I began my Metformin, and a year later began Clomid, a drug for inducing ovulation. After 5 cycles of Clomid, I stopped. Our lives were changing, and it was a lot of added stress that I didn’t think we could handle.
We’ve moved to a fabulous city, and the world is my oyster! We are stress free, and ready to make a new addition to our family. I have began taking my Metformin again (I always stop when we aren’t actively trying to conceive) I have also started walking for my health. My son, who is now 3, loves the daily adventure, and it’s good for him to get out.
Our story of infertility is ever changing, and compared to others, we are very fortunate, but no less hurt each year that goes by without a sibling for our son. I hope that I can share our story with you and help give a voice to the feelings that couples dealing with infertility often keep hidden. The biggest questions that we face are “How far will we go to have a child?” and “How to we accept that he might be our only child?” We are still trying to figure out the answers.