So many summers were ruined by my diagnosis of infertility. I learned before a family vacation to Lake George NY that my eggs were… How to say this? First word was that comes to my mind was the word Bad. So let me try this again… My eggs had low chance of conceiving a viable pregnancy due to my age and chemo treatment. That sounds better.
I took it really hard. We had been trying with donor sperm already. It came to a head on our last day of vacation a few years ago in New York. Our cell phones were struggling in Lake George. I couldn’t find a pen, we were at a pool. Literally grabbed my lipstick and wrote the number on my hand. Insurance declined the doctor’s request to do a procedure called ICIS. (The sperm is shot into the egg instead of it being allowed to swim around in a petri dish.) First, I am frantically looking for paper and a pen. I am thinking people at the pool had several thoughts about me. Look at the woman at the pool writing a number on her hand in lipstick. Hot date? No, the fertility accounting department called me. The vacation got even worst. I decided to let my health insurance have it. Of course the signal kept dropping but I tried from Lake George, NY to Massachusetts. Of course, my heart was broken.
My husband and I had years to prepared and come to terms with donor conception. We grieved it couldn’t be his sperm. I felt myself grieving every pregnancy loss, negative pregnancy test and my genetic self. I also had agreed to medical menopause during chemo treatment. The genetic test was drawn for us and lost during the time I was diagnosis with breast cancer. Later we learned we could have used my eggs. Insurance will not pay for fertility saving treatments for cancer patients. There was no guarantee it wasn’t my eggs fault for the rare disease. So, I knew the results were not good but I choose to try Lupron before chemo for medical menopause. The theory is.. If your ovaries are shut off, chemo will not attack them. I found myself grieving I had gone through months of hot flashes during chemo. I was hormonal 36 and I turned 60 something over night. Not a pretty picture. Then we the chemo ended, it was a rough hormonal journey back to 37 (I had a birthday.) It was all for nothing. I walked through the park sobbing. It was over.
We went home. I woke up in the middle of the night in tears. My daughter had asked to go to the Red Sox game. My anxiety was so high. I was grieving it all… The deaths of our daughters, the loss of using my husband’s sperm, the loss of my eggs, the miscarriages, breast cancer and every negative pregnancy test. At this time, I belong to a breast cancer support group for young women. It happened one of the younger women in the group got pregnant. In my grief, I was struggling. I did say congrats. It was the third text about morning sickness that I lost my mind. They honestly couldn’t get it. I texted them and told them about my grief. I told that I felt I couldn’t be apart of the group anymore. One member texted me that I was “selfish.” My anxiety rose. Then the snoop/friend at my job started texting me. We were in the bleachers. I am not a fan of any sports. I wanted to cry and scream. Here were all the happy people because the Red Sox were heading to the world series. Here I am asking, is it over yet? My husband said, they just played the national anthem. I drove them nuts…. What’s and inning and how long does it last? How many inning are there?
I struggled with smoking after bad news about pregnancy tests and fertility treatment. I felt like everyone in the bleachers were caving in on me. Finally, I left to have a smoke because my anxiety was almost to hospital level portions. I was fighting the tears without little success. I don’t know who the boss is at Fenway. I asked for them to show me where to smoke and he was kind enough to let me smoke with the employees.
Thankfully, Maria, my good friend was around and we were private messaging each other. We have never met in person. We had a pregnancy loss at the same time in 2007. She lives in Michigan and I live here. We follow each other in social media.
I survived and left the breast cancer support group. There were other issues with the group. Hope was five when I had breast cancer. One woman had breast cancer before her daughter and decided to never tell her daughter. She told her daughter we went to school together. My daughter just had to ask tons about going to school with this woman. It put me in a uncomfortable place, because I try not to hide anything.
Another summer later, we never knew when we were leaving for treatment to the embryo donation program on the West Coast. Last summer, I was pregnant due any day now. I am telling you the Red Sox story for a reason. Hope asked to take dad to the Red Sox game again. Like I didn’t ask when was it over enough? I decided I owed them that. We are going.
This year is different. We are scrubbing walls and finishing the family room. I have been doing this since February. I haven’t gotten much sleep. I started the family room when we were getting ready to try in the summer of 2003. No history of any problems. I was glowing about pregnancy not even trying. I was buying things for the baby. Rare disease? Never heard of it. Sadly, Avery died a day after birth from rare disease. I blamed myself. I blamed the paint and chemicals. I refused to ever finish the family room. We are getting close to being done 12 years later. At points, I hugged the painted walls and cried. It wasn’t my fault. We were the first family in this world to be carriers and not have the disease ourselves. Lately, I have been trying to work on forgiveness for the psychological harm I did to myself. I want to name the room after her. All this cleaning and remodeling is tearing me up.
I long for summer. I am hoping to be done with the house soon. We didn’t know the toilet was leaking in the bathroom. The plywood to the floor was replaced. I am cleaning the walls in case the mold traveled. I just wanted new floors. I am excited about the family room soon to be done. Joy is our last child. It’s a full circle of 12 years of our lives. Lately, I have been feeling sad about selling the family home next year. Hope is entering her last year of elementary school. There is no afterschool programs after next year. This city is not safe. Hope was lucky to have a chance to go to school in the next town over. It’s time we live there. This was the home all my five babies that I lost were suppose to come home to. I love the new floors. Joy’s room was painted in murals. It’s going to hurt saying good bye.
I have luggage already with Father’s Day. My father abused us and left. I will be displaying my mother’s picture again as a symbol to honor her again. She did the job of two parents as a married single mother. Yes, I typed it that way. We are talking about trips. I look forward to days with both my girls. I don’t like sports. We are surprising my husband with a Red Sox game. Hopefully we enjoy it! I just started a new job so we plan to do things here and there. We won’t be taken a whole week off together as a family. My husband and I grow stronger as a couple.