Secondary Infertility, The Mother I Didn’t Deserve To Be
Have you ever almost lost your marbles over your child crying, whining, dropping something, or simply “being a child”? That was me almost a year ago.
I don’t know what happened. There was a period of time that my patience got shorter and shorter. I’d respond patiently to my then 2.5 year old once, twice, three times and then snap . . . SCREAM.
I hated that look in her eyes. A look of fear. I look of no longer knowing where and with whom she was safe. A fear of me.
I did not want to be that person to my innocent little girl. But why could she not understand I was busy making dinner. I could not would not be at her beckon call to cover her with a blanket so she could watch a video. I could not would not pick up her princess and place her next to her at her demand.
Patience was short. Wills were at war.
Planning For Baby #2
Despite this, I thought I was ready. I thought we were ready to grow our family. So in theory, we started planning.
Ili wasn’t exactly planned. We conceived her close to a year after marriage. We were neither preventing nor trying, and it just happened.
It’s a good thing too, because had I waited to feel ready to be a mom . . . it may have never happened. The fact that it took me a whole year to really feel like I was “getting” this whole mom thing is testimony to that.
So I thought the 2nd time around would be a breeze. I was sure figuring out my cycles and when I ovulate would be helpful. So I started to pay attention.
Then my cycles came close, then they came far apart, . . . . then they disappeared.
Now, I was scared. Was I menopausal? But, I’m only 35. Or worse . . . maybe God was telling me I didn’t deserve to be a mother?!
How sad that my faith would falter and jump right to that conclusion. But the truth is, I was guilt ridden. I knew the impatience I’d been having was not right. It was not Godly.
How could I have another child if I hadn’t proven myself as a mother with the first? Maybe one kid was all I was cut out to handle.
I went to the OBGYN office, the RN says, “You were here for this same reason last year. I assume you got your cycles back on your own.” What? How could I not remember that? Whatever, it gave me hope.
1 month passed, 2 months passed, 3 months passed. No period. Now, I know that had never happened before!
I took a ton of pregnancy tests, only to be disappointed each time.
I went back to the RN, she gave me progesterone so I could get my period. She tested me. Guess what, I wasn’t ovulating.
I then saw the OBGYN, she gave me clomid so I could get my period. She tested me. Guess what, I wasn’t ovulating.
The Dr. called one day and said, “We have your test results. Your FSH (follicle stimulating hormone) is too high (27.9) and AMH (anti-mullerian hormone) is too low (.27). Per your hormone levels, you are post-menopausal. I’m going to have to refer you to an infertility clinic right away. Do you want me to forward your files or do you want to think about it and call me back?”
Wait, what? My hormones somehow put me at age 50? Are you serious?
What was more alarming was that my FSH had come back at 5.4 just two months prior. Somehow, this didn’t warrant investigation or analysis by my OBYN. I was now an infertility case, out of her hands.
Secondary infertility . . . that’s what they call it. The Mayo Clinic defines it as, “Secondary infertility is the inability to get pregnant despite frequent, unprotected sex — for at least a year in women under age 35 or six months in women age 35 and older — by a couple who have previously had a pregnancy.”
It’s “a disease”.
I was broken. It was true. I did not deserve to be a mother, at least not to a second child.
I don’t believe God makes mistakes. So the comfort of knowing He meant me to be a mother to my first child took hold.
Suddenly, my patience increased a hundred fold. I was enjoying all the teeny tiny precious moments with my daughter. Was this a blessing in disguise?
Please stay tuned as I continue to share my journey with you . . . . .