Struggling years of trying to have kids

This was written back in 2014 after another failed attempt to have children.

This year my wife and I will have been married for 14 years and I can honestly say the most gut-wrenching moments of our time together has stemmed from the desire to have and raise children. You often read from the view of the wife about being in this situation. I felt like it was time to share from a husbands point of view.

My wife and I have always wanted a family. Four kids always seemed like the number that made sense. Nice and balanced… not to large (I came from a family of 9) and not too small. It was something we could get excited about. Something that would be our choice. Something that would mean more than anything else in life. Our kids. Our family.

It was close to the one year mark when my wife first thought she might be pregnant. The nerves of being young with no money and being in school ran through our bones mixed with that tinge of excitement of making that step to become parents. It was short lived though as my wife soon miscarried and the first taste of seeing and feeling the bittersweet that is tied to that sentiment of wanting a baby began.

The journey that a couple goes through to try and have kids is something you never really hear about growing up. Now you see and hear of couples adopting, but the reasons behind those decisions are just not talked about in most social circles. Nobody prepares you for that situation in life where actually trying to have kids could be a challenge. So when you find yourself in this situation of thinking kids might not come so easy, everything in life changes.

As a husband, much of those early years were spent consoling but really clinging to that idea of hope. Hope that we will be able to try certain things. After all, there are lots of good options to go through first before you give up. Hope that because you are actually getting pregnant, some things are at least working. Lets just give it a little time and as we get older we’ll start to worry more about it.

And then more time passes. And a few more miscarriages, or at least what we think could be miscarriages. Who knew that women could have miscarriages and not really know. I didn’t. I didn’t even realize that miscarriages were common to happen so early in pregnancies. I could only fall back on the experience of my oldest sister losing her twins… but they were alive for an hour and able to be held. Little bodies that couldn’t make it. Not something that at around 5, 6 or 7 weeks could be correlated to. We miscarried? Again?

So after a few more years and a switch to work for a company that had some decent insurance to help, we began the more thorough process. Thorough basically meaning tests, more tests, and the metamorphosis of becoming human lab rats. It is tough at first. Humiliating. Guys have it easy in comparison to their wives. But being relegated to the guy in the corner who has to watch his wife go through one exam after another with different doctors is numbing. All you can do is stand there, hold her hand, try to be hopeful that this time, this appointment, this doctor, this moment will make a difference.

We tried one fertility clinic. Doctors were insensitive and not willing to listen to honest questions. More eager to push us through their “proven” preliminary steps. Anxious to get us on the drug treatments. We switched to another clinic, only to start over in a lot of ways. Pay some money, take more tests, listen to more theories on what could work.

My wife ended up having some polyps that needed to be removed (a surgery we would do more than once). Apparently strange and foreign growths are common in the body? Possibly some blockage that could be occurring as a result. Lets do the surgery, cross our fingers, and at the same time start saving money.

Time to try IUIs… I U What? Oh yeah, you mean “AI” (don’t even ask) artificial insemination… or in even more lamen terms… where you go into a room with a cup, only after having to look at people looking funny at you as they know what you are about to do, and collect your baby batter to be put into a turkey baster and injected into your wife. Don’t worry… you’ll get to do this multiple times. I remember one clinic where I could hear the laughing out in the hallway. It was probably nothing related to me… but in that situation everything feels like it is against you. Artificial Intelligence seems appropriate now…

Cross your fingers, say some prayers, and wait. Wait for that moment of rejection to come. Wait for the tears that get harder to console as the frustration continues to mount.

Soon six years pass by and you are almost to a point to either get ready to do in-vitro or adoption. Yes, it is a process mentally to get yourself ready to do. You set a deadline to make the decision… 6 months… then we’ll do something. Until then, try to forget. Try to be positive. Try to chill out. We bought kayaks.

The hard thing about going through this is that you can never escape it. Not only do you have family, friends, and complete strangers asking when you are going to try and have kids, but your wife has the monthly reminder which automatically seems to be tied to the sentiment that the clock is ticking. Oh and that word “try” to have kids… really is pretty funny. But the reality is that the pressure to “try” to have kids changes that intimacy as well. Well-timed opportunities to make a kid takes some of the fun out of the moment. Heck, takes a lot of the fun out of the moment, even for us guys. But as a husband you can’t complain because your wife will always have it worse than you.

So near the end of our 6 month deadline to make a decision, something crazy happened. My wife actually got pregnant. The pregnancy lasted and we had our miracle child. A wonderful and healthy baby boy. The most magical time of our lives. The curse had been lifted somehow. The pressure gone and now our family was ready to grow.

Going through six years of waiting and longing made us extra loving parents. That kid was going with us everywhere and he truly was and is our miracle child. And now the angst of trying to have a kid was over and we could now be normal. At least that is what we thought.

It is now over six years later since that birth. Several miscarriages later and we were back at that same decision point of whether or not we should adopt or try in-vitro. We opted for in-vitro.

Now many people reading this may think that I shouldn’t even be writing this or complaining because we at least had a kid. And I can’t disagree. We thought the same before having him. We are lucky to have him. I wish I could say that it changed the longing we had to have more. But the reality is that it only made it stronger. And now as a husband, playing the role of the father at the same time in this situation, is proving to be even tougher.

The almost nightly words from a longing son wishing he had a brother or sister. The fact that he already named them and prays for them to come. The fact that every time you interact with him you can’t help but wonder what his brother or sister would be like. The fact that not only does he get sad, but every time he does, you can see and feel the heartache getting more tempestuous in the one you love.

So we play the same game… wait six months then make the decision. Only this time it doesn’t work. We’re forced to make the $20K commitment. We are ready to not have any regrets. No more waiting, we are going to make this happen.

So then there is the process of in-vitro. Where the anticipation of the drugs is actually worse then the taking of the drugs. Afraid of needles? Heh, by now you are used to your wife sticking herself and forming bruises on her body. You offer to help and soon become an expert in measuring fluids in syringes and understanding the different types of needles needed for injections.

The hope bubble begins to grow. First it is the growing of eggs. Then it is the harvesting. Yes… the harvesting. Try not to compare yourself to others they say. But yet the doctor does it the whole time through. That’s good for your age… we at least have a shot (huh)… things should go well.

To add more interest to the process, your wife’s sister is also doing in-vitro, only in another state, with a different and better doctor. So the note comparing is immediate. The concerns of why we do or don’t do things the same way manifest themselves. As a husband you try to speak peace and hope and comfort. This will work. It must work. Be positive and it will work. Calm your wife and just be positive. Accept the prayers and well wishes of others… can’t hurt, right? Just be positive.

I remember the drama of giving the release shot before we were to harvest the eggs. It had to be given at 2 in the morning, with a long needle in the backside. You watch the video together as this needle and shot is a little different than the others. You ice the spot, measure the spot, and basically throw the long-needle dart in almost expecting to hit bone. It’s times like those I’m glad I’m not her, but feel bad for thinking that and immediately wish I could be the one going through the physical hardships as I think that would be easier. Being the helpless one on the sideline is hard. Harder then people think. Frustratingly difficult. Put me in the fight and let me be the one that gets beat up. I can handle the pain. I just can’t handle seeing her in pain.

So eggs are harvested, embryos are formed, and a freezer is now in the mix. I know, lets implant in December… get the good news for Christmas and finally make this a great Christmas. Because hey we are positive and this will work.

So now our hope for a baby lies literally in the doctor’s hands. We see the embryos. They are decent scores, a 3 and a 4 or something out of 5. Good chances as I can understand math and numbers. You want to implant 2, because that is what everybody else does. Best odds they say. Take some more needle drugs and get ready. Then get ready for the healthy balance of estrogen and progesterone concoctions. We can do this, right? I mean… Right!

The days after the implantation were hard. Really hard. You are literally on pins and needles. Hope is strong one moment and then thrusted away the next as it has been over a decade of hoping and having failings. Then some spotting and the thought that it all failed. You learn that is normal, so false alarm. So you get up and get the blood work done. And you answer the phone from the doctor’s office because your wife is too afraid. Now is the time to be strong for her. But you are so anxious, you just want to know yourself if the time, humiliations (I mean her humiliations), and drawn out process was worth it.

You’re pregnant! Christmas is good. Tears of joy are shed. Unknown friends leave a basket of baby goods on your porch and you now are grateful for modern day science and technology. More tears of utter happiness shared. Now you can be one of the few dads that can say you have a baby picture when the baby was literally 3 days old… as an embryo. It is a wonderful feeling but at the same time, in the back of your head is a feeling of fear that it may end. And that feeling is only stronger with your wife.

And a week later it does. And the real sorrow and frustration begin. And this time, not only are you older and more towards the end of your best chance, but there are drugs involved. You now have a wife that not only miscarried, but is full of drugs that only enhance the emotions her body is feeling. The bleeding lasts for several days and the despair feels so much deeper and darker then ever before. On top of it strep throat and other strange types of body reactions. Burning Mouth Syndrome… really? How could that even be a thing? And how come my best friend has to have that on top of everything else?

It’s kind of funny how when you go through situations like this how many people claim to know what you are going through. I know they mean well, but the protective husband in me wants to knock their heads off.

So now, a couple weeks have passed and we are at that crossroad again. We have started digging into adoption as we know our only child does not deserve to be alone. Can’t give up even though part of us feels like it already did. We also know that part of our healing is really the ability to offer our love and protection to another wonderful child. And we are anxious for that healing to begin. Plus, I don’t want to be the dad in the wheelchair at highschool graduations.

But where do you go now? So far the adoption agencies fall in the $30-$50K range and the stories of the possible difficult journey that lies ahead of us are not encouraging. And now apparently there is no tax break and international adoptions are even more challenging.

All I know is that my wife wants a baby.