All is Quiet…
Not just in my house as my kids sleep. But on the board as well. What could this mean? That the rain has put people in a read-only mood? That no one (gasp) has stories about positive advice/words/actions that helped them through the process? I know we’ve gotten many hits today, but no comments. Therefore, a renewed plea for stories.
All of my best comments come from insiders. My mother went through infertility (11 years to have three children). She was a great resource not only for information but for support as well. I had friends who were going through treatments at the same time. My best friend, who is the godmother of my children, is not infertile, but she was an amazing support (ha! So here is an example of someone outside the experience). Unfortunately, while I can come up with many good stories about how she was supportive during the actual pregnancy, I can’t come up with a specific from the infertility years. Perhaps I’m having a touch of memory suppression…
But my other good story of support comes from someone who has their feet in both worlds–my RE. For all I know, he became an RE because he went through infertility. I don’t really know anything about his personal life except that he has a daughter who went to my high school. But for the sake of this story, we’ll go with the assumption that he never went through IF. But he works in that world so he isn’t completely an outsider. Then again, I know plenty of people who did not have the warm and fuzzy experience we had at our RE’s office. Wish everyone could live in our area.
Anyway, while we had a nurse assigned to our case who delivered test results and answered questions, often he would call us as well to further explain something. There were many days when he told me, “it’s okay to be disappointed. But it’s not okay to be discouraged.” He called us the day before the IUI when we conceived and left us a message saying that he just felt in his bones that it would be our turn this month (he later said that if he truly thought his words had worked some type of magic, he would spend his entire day phoning infertile women).
But our best story about our RE came when I was driving home one day from work. He had called my cell phone and was going over some test results (this was back in the days when we drove and spoke on cell phones at the same time). He told me that everything looked so good that he wanted to do an IUI instead of timed-intercourse. I was so embarrassed, but I had to admit to him that we needed another month to pull the money together since we didn’t think we’d be doing IUI that month. There was a pause and then he told me that the clinic would take on the cost of the IUI because he felt so strongly that we had a good chance to conceive and he didn’t want to let it pass. Which was just about the most thoughtful thing anyone did for us during our treatments. We didn’t conceive that month (and the RE joked that at least it was free), but it gave us the hope to keep trying since we knew someone else out there cared if we got pregnant and had our back. Sort of the same idea as a coach. It’s not that you can’t be a baseball player without one, but they help you to keep focused and give you strength when you begin to doubt yourself. Thank you, Dr. RE.
I still get choked up when I drive by that RE’s building.
Okay, so now that we’ve spilled, it’s your turn. Send in your stories. The kind words that were said to you. The coworker who bought you a latte because she could see that you had been crying after a BFN. The friend who said just the right thing. Or the therapist or RE who proverbally held your hand and gave you the strength you needed to remain focused on the goal.
Come on, I know these stories are out there.