Infant Loss Awareness Day

I am keeping vigil with all who mourn, grieve, and wait... because today is the same as every other day on the calendar when you've experienced the loss of a child: every day is Infant Loss Awareness Day.

They are all gone too soon.

Be good to yourself before clicking on any of the links below - know that you will see pictures of pregnant bellies, children, and talk of pregnancy in all of them, even the academic links. If you are new to this blog, please see the resources tab for help on how to manage a loss at all stages of the process (before, during, and after) physically, practically, spiritually, and in remembrance.

Miscarried and stillborn babies, as well as infants who died after birth... are all now saints in Heaven (not angels), being held in the arms of our Creator. We, as women, delivered them into this world through our bodies, but a small part of them physically remains behind in us forever. The scientific phenomenon is called microchimerism. And there is a lot of research behind it in recent years.

Our children remain with us at a cellular level forever. That makes every mother of a lost child a sacred relic, if you think about it for a moment. I am praying with all of you and for all of you as we navigate another reminder of all who are missing in our lives. We are not broken. Our children are literally strengthening us from within, for years to come. As long as we live, they are here within us, a tangible part of us that remains literally in our hearts and minds. And we are not the same as we were before them. Even those whose losses were so early that they never had an ultrasound... you are changed. Your child is a reality as you live and breathe each moment. In fact, those experiencing recurring miscarriage are more likely to experience this phenomenon, statistically speaking.

But until we get to cradle them in our arms, in the home of our Heavenly Father, let us keep vigil with each other.

Choosing to Thrive

We've spent a whole week exploring the struggles of infertility. As if it were a tiny little microcosm of the path through infertility itself, we talked about actively struggling, finding a category and understanding what infertility really is, what the experience of living it is like, how others navigate it, and the Please DO's and Please DON'TS of it all. So now it's time to box up this series by addressing what we're left with on this journey of infertility: a marriage that needs to thrive and not just survive.

Let's talk a little bit about thriving for a few minutes (and don't assume I'm preaching at anyone here ...we're all a work in progress and nothing I say here is mastered or conquered by either spouse behind Conceiving Hope....but we need to have goals. And ours are big like Irish rainbows.)...

One of the things that infertility is really great at is: stealing your long term vision and making you blinder-ed and tunnel-visioned in its wake. We get drawn into ourselves. We become super critical. We are constantly uncomfortable. And some of the time we're actually in physical pain. And when the day is at a close, blame has to land somewhere, right? The angst doesn't just resolve itself magically between spouses in its own. I joke that two people who have been right their entire lives (or at least "not wrong") about how to live....enter into marriage...and then someone has to instantly be wrong. It's a funny commentary on the dynamics of marriage, but it's kind of true isn't it? Or maybe not true per se, but it's how so many of us approach it. Amirite?! Someone has to be wrong and blame has to land somewhere.

But in that equation, on the topic of infertility through a Catholic vantage point, things get confusing. It isn't his or her fault that infertility is experienced. It's both or neither, right??

So that brings me to my point here. You have to choose whether to fail together or to thrive together. At some point, you are either destroying the boat you're both floating in and choosing to sink with it...or you are improving the boat to make it sail better and head to clear waters. We all go through the boat burning phase. That's what being a newlywed is all about, right? Burn the boat down as many times as you can! And lest you think I'm being dramatic, ask any primary infertility couple how the first few years of marriage go. It is not pretty. Because on top of all the other things you are becoming accustomed to in each other, living together, and sharing lives, etc. etc. etc....you are also navigating something as serious as cancer. No one is going to do it well. It shouldn't even be the goal. Surviving actually is a good goal in that phase, in a way. But marriage doesn't have to remain the flailing, smoking, chaotic scene the early days usually are. And if they weren't that for you, I think you are doing it wrong (or you deserve a Nobel Peace Prize, I'm undecided!). The fact remains:

Marriage can't thrive when it's lived as a constant source of pain.

If you choose to thrive - or rather - when you choose to thrive, there are a few things to keep in mind. Build yourself a map. Make it specific to you and your marriage. Have a plan. Set goals. Have a trajectory. And stick to it. The thing you will reap the rewards of first is having a sense of accomplishment. Truly, the couple who stagnates in the murky waters of infertility, accomplishing nothing else in life and marriage, is going to just be a depressive mess. (We've done that act of the play already, right husband?)

So when you make your map and you decide that against all odds, all emotions, and all logic, that you are going to make NOW the happy part....here are my suggestions. Take them with a grain of salt. Add to the list in the comments below. Share your wisdom of what worked best for you and your spouse. Keep the dialogue going until you get to a point where this sounds like a good idea that can work. I'm convinced that someone has to lead the way out of the in-your-face-mess-that-robs-you-of-all-happiness-in-life phase of infertility. And if I had to vote someone to take that first step in my own marriage, it will always be my husband. He's not the one being held hormonally captive. He's not the one whose neurotransmitters are being tweaked with every pill and shot. We aren't capable of anything more than what he is willing to aim for, and we won't accomplish anything successfully if he doesn't point us in the right direction. It's a lot of work, but I'm convinced that God has purpose in making a husband the leader in a marriage. Otherwise, He wouldn't have given us Ephesians 5.

This is where I think husbands can shine:

1. Pray together, without ceasing, without exception, without excuse.

Don't have a go-to prayer? Make one up. Not good at making one up? Use this one!:

Lord, I am giving you all the negativity

I am choosing your Grace and leaving everything else at your feet

I want more for my life than these pains of infertility

Give me the gifts I need to overcome this stagnation

Help me to thrive in Your will and in Your plans for my life

Help me to use my talents in ways that glorify you

Help us to make a marriage that is worthy of the sacrament that created it

Let your wisdom guide us in our decision making

Let us choose life for ourselves and help us to be fruitful in doing so

If there are children ahead, prepare our hearts to accept them

And if there are no children in Your plan for us, prepare our hearts to accept that

Remind us that we are powerless through technology and medicine and all the works of man

And that Your will is perfect and good for us.

Give us the courage to build up our marriage

And give us the strength to forge a path for ourselves

And give us the endurance to stay that path.

Help us to walk by faith and not sight.

Help us to grow closer to each other.

Help us to love each other

And if someone has to be wrong, let my husband own it gracefully.

Ok, ok, adjust the prayer however you need to. Humor is a big part of what works in my own marriage, so that last line is just for us. Somewhere, he's not laughing. Right, sweetie?

You really do have to cut the tension with humor though. Until you can laugh at yourselves, your boat isn't going anywhere.

2. Seek out counseling, not because you want to or like the idea of it. Do it because it's good for your marriage and balm for your sacrament. Do it because you love your spouse enough to be uncomfortable and do things you don't like for the benefit of their soul. Do it because you don't want to!! There's probably something to that...

You wouldn't argue that a cancer patient needs to process the journey, so after talking through how similar the psychology of disease is this week, don't argue that infertile couples need counseling. It's not a punishment. It's a reward. Start looking at counseling as a need that is as important as weekly groceries and your boat will get faster. And sleeker. And shinier.

3. Be Honest. Let your spouse talk about the things they've been keeping silent. Draw each other out. You can't heal some pain that is hiding in the shadows. And the likelihood that your spouse understood your suffering that you've been hiding is.......well.......don't expect it to happen. When you don't spell it out, clown-obvious-style, expect your spouse NOT to get it. Forget what they are supposed to "get" or how obvious you thought you were being. Start sharing without the unhelpful expectations of what they should have "gotten". That will help end the blame game. Be vulnerable and it will be rewarded. Your marriage has to be a safe harbor for both of you, not an insanely ornate and convoluted series of mouse traps. Honesty will help change that climate.

4. Make your other dreams equally important. It's too easy to become one-track. Infertility kind of demands it from us at the beginning. But once you've seen how wonderfully that works, try something new and have no shame in doing it. What is it that you wanted to be when you were 5? A ballerina? Are you taking ballet classes? A fireman? Are you volunteering on the local squad? What is it you could explore to satisfy a childhood urge? What dream do you have that seems so ridiculous that you've never given yourself permission to try? DO THAT! Write that book. Draw up those crazy tree house plans. Go make that monster sand castle. Go learn how to trim that hedge into a 17 foot long Chinese New Year's dragon! The fruitfulness that these kinds of silly-seeming-things will do for your marriage is immeasurable. All work and no play make Jack a dull boy. Ok. But all infertility treatments and no play make grown up Jack and Jill a miserable, grumbling mess. It's time to give yourself permission to play again - and be playful. No one ever won at life by engaging in a misery marathon. Just choose to wake up and not own that mess tomorrow. Remind yourself of the things you used to enjoy. And don't allow yourself to feel depressed at how long it's been since that was "your thing". No regrets. More hopscotch.

5. Imitate a lighthouse and be that for your spouse.Guys, you have to be able to reach your spouse. Through the fog, you have to be that brilliant beacon. You're already not going gentle into that dark night. Make it easy to find one another. Just like you have those unspoken gestures for a party when you are ready to leave, you need to add this to the repertoire. Make sure that your spouse understands what triggers you in your infertility haze. But go a step further. Find a way to help them climb out of it when you can't prevent it. Be a clown. Be your spouses' hero and they will fall madly in love with you over and over again each time. I'm not exaggerating. Being a silent, vigilant advocate for your spouses' heart is one of the most powerful things you can do. You're their favorite person. You're their LOBSTER, for goodness sakes. If you don't know how to be the lighthouse in the storm, you need to talk to each other and figure that out. With this as a foundation, and God on your side, and your faith leading you.... there is less and less room left for blame or spousal discontent. You literally become two peas in a pod, two kids in an ice fort, two bears in a cave, two whatever-you-think-is-cuter-than-those-analogies. Together, doing it together. Thriving happens when you aren't needing to be focused so much on surviving each other. If it's the two of you against infertility, you're going to win (baby or no baby). Like any other form of adversity, your union and communion are the keys to overcoming the hurdles. It's all there already because it came with your sacrament. And yet it's so hard to live, isn't it?

6. Use your infertile powers for good.How many other couples do you know who can look at their wives and basically know she is ovulating? How many other marriages do you know where the husband and wife can inject hormones into each other, while assessing the best spot for delivery that won't lead to intramuscular pain or knotting? How many other marriages do you know where the husband and wife can calculate pill dosages, when to reorder, and basically act like a chemist in their own home to save money? And how many other marriages do you know of where the prescriptions have such an impact on the budget that both spouses become better cooks in order to minimize the economy of consumables throughout the month? FACE IT. You guys have super powers. You are much more capable now than you were even months ago. And managing the things you manage - with relative ease - well, that stuff scares the hair off most peaches. Give yourself CREDIT for being awesome, being up to whatever-it-takes, and for managing things with as much grace as you have. In fact, (I'm going to get raw here) think of how many people reading this have experience with the kind of infertility that involves miscarriage, RPL, or infant death. There are a lot, I will tell you that. Those people are managing all of what I mentioned above AND dealing with the realities of loss. A marriage that can manage loss like that and still find a way to keep romance alive between the spouses - that's the goal. I don't care how tenuously strung that romance is. And it doesn't matter where you are on the hope-o-meter either. But making the effort counts for the full gold star, people. Use what you've accomplished and survived and surmounted as a feather in your cap. Find ways to build each other up. Husband not good at math? Reward him with praise when he does the budget. Wife not good with chores? Reward her with something she loves when she finally gets up the steam to do them. Stop cutting under each other and start looking for ways to make that boat do more than float. You are already rockstars...and you make other newlyweds and veteran married folk pale in comparison at your MAD MARRIAGE skills. Take a moment to enjoy that. They are slow clapping for you because of how resilient you are and how unsinkable you've become.

7. Die a quick death to yourself.No one makes it out of this ride alive. So given that we're all headed for the earthworms, it's time to institute some kind of regular source of humor in your lives. Learn how to make fun of yourself. Welcome embarrassment if you have to, it doesn't matter. You HAVE to get over yourself. It ain't gonna work any other way. I know because I already tried the bazillion other ways. If you come through infertility with  nothing more than a healthy way to laugh at yourself and your spouse..... you are 100% winning. It's not a consolation prize. In fact, in comparison, I almost think a baby would be the consolation prize in that scenario. (Maybe). The truth remains that you have to find what works. And let's be honest, we alllllll know what doesn't work. We're masters and 4th degree black belts in that venture, aren't we? So try something scary and uncomfortable and give self-deprecation a try. God isn't too impressed with our pride and esteem for ourselves anyway. He has been waiting for us to choose to thrive too. And I think He's going to richly reward our efforts to find light hearts with each other in your marriage. And that's why "just relax" is so hideous a piece of advice. Because relaxing has nothing to do with making things better. You can relax when you get that salvation Christ already paid for...and until then, I'm pretty sure it's trash duty and yes, dear for most of us.

This post has been brought to you by me yelling at myself for things I and we need to do in my/our marriage. It just happened to turn into a 7QT post on its own... :P In all seriousness though, I tried to write this as close to my own face as I could - because that's what infertility does to us - steals our peripheral and long distance sight. I hope that approach was helpful!

Choose to thrive in one small way today. And if you fail in a flaming pile of unrecognizable shards - try again tomorrow another way. You'll get there. I just wish that when we all get there, there were babies being handed out instead of medals. But then, that's not a new theme for me.

Be gentle to yourselves. And thank you so much to everyone for continuing to read along in this infertility series!

This post is the sixth post in a series on infertility. If you'd like to read from the beginning, click on the picture below to read the original post in the series where all of the posts will be linked.

Litany of Platitudes

I'm going to warn you about three things here:

1) This isn't going to be pretty

2) This isn't going to end the way you think
3) You're going to get 2 litanies for the price of one!

So, now that we have THAT out of the way....what do we do about it? I could write for eons about how the Litany of Platitudes makes me feel. I could certainly wax on philosophically about the individual responses I have given to each of these amazing pieces of advice, questions, and *cough* generous offers. And yes, before you ask, I've been asked every single one of these 36 questions. It's not been pretty. More importantly, I've only been at this infertility thing for 2 years. And I'm positive that I've forgotten a few horrifying questions in that time. But suffice it to say, people navigating the pain of infertility get hit with a lot of "advice". Well meaning. Just like that well-paved road of intentions that'll take you allllll the way to Hades.

So here's where I take a turn. You're not going to like me very much for it either, infertile Catholics. Sorry about that. Download the following document (hover over it, then click on the top right corner to "pop out" and you can download or print) and then get GOOD at praying it. Don't just give it a cursory glance. Don't just look at it once and say "yeah, I see your point". Don't get angry with me and think I'm a turncoat. Really think about what we're all doing here - fine tuning suffering. We're finding a way to put the pain to use. We're dying to ourselves. And I'm pretty sure Christ is going to reward that with more Divine Mercy than anything else we could give Him.

Do the uncommon and take the less traveled path here. Put your pain to work. Let it sanctify you, like St. Josemaria Escriva used to say. Don't let yourself be persecuted by the insanity of these platitudes. Make yourself HOLY through them. Meditate on God's suffering. Unite your pain with Christ and ask Him to do something better with it than you can. Remember when you still liked me? ;)

OK, now I'm going to talk to the REST OF Y'ALL.

You need to STAHHHPPPPP with the ridiculous questions, judgments, ideas, advice, suggestions, and story telling of your neighbor's cousin's best friend's former college roommate's mom's aunt's sister about how she got pregnant drinking nothing but lime juice while dancing barefoot in a field of chickens for 6 days straight.

Seriously.

CUT. IT. OUT.

Compassion means  to suffer with. And no part of suffering WITH involves a constant drone of misinformed, hurtful, and downright dangerous things coming out of your mouth. When you don't know what to say - tell us you'll pray for us. When you don't know how to react - ask us what you can do for us. When you don't understand, tell us that. The single best thing you can alwayseverforevermore do for us is PRAY. That's going to be our default. As Catholics, we solidly believe in the power of prayers. And we believe in your prayers whether you are Catholic or not! If you don't have a relationship with God, this is the perfect opportunity to reach out to Him and say "Hi, I need to talk to you about my friend and the pains of her infertility." It's not unrealistic. It's not presumptuous. It's the least and most anyone can do.

And if after all of that, you still have something to suggest, ask if the infertile couple are open to advice. They'll tell you what they can handle. Treat them with the respect their condition deserves. You wouldn't tell a cancer patient to get over their chemo pains. You wouldn't tell them their HAIR LOOKED BAD. You wouldn't ask them if they needed your sperm to survive their disease.

So don't do it to us.

Few people (outside those who are actively in the thick of it) understand that the psychology of disease related to cancer is STRIKINGLY similar to that of infertility. In fact, I'll tell you squarely right now: I took more pills a day than a cancer patient last year. There. I said it. 27, y'all. A day. All intricately timed to waking, sleeping, eating, not interacting with each other, being far enough apart by dose, timed to a detailed medical chart. And that doesn't even take into consideration all the shots, blood draws, and surgery I underwent. There was never a month with fewer than 10 shots or blood draws. And sometimes the that number climbed to as much as 31 a month. And the month that looked like that was really 26 in one week, and a paltry 5 the next week. Look at the handywork of just one phlebotomist from one draw. We're not talking about metaphorical suffering at all when it comes to the journey of infertility!

Really though, it's all just exhausting. Your house fills up with charts, thermometers, books, graphs, medicines, and medicine-taking-paraphernalia. Every end table, counter, and bathroom nook becomes a place for morning, noon, night, and bedtime pills. But here's my real point: I'm nowhere NEAR unique. I'm on the rather lucky end of things right now, in comparison to what some have to do (uterine antibiotic lavages in preparation for marital intercourse anyone?)

Simply put, we're doing the best we can with the pace that our medical treatment demands. And most of us aren't just doing it for a baby. We're trying to improve our health first and foremost. We didn't choose this path. We didn't choose to be sick. We didn't choose our infertility. We're not basking in the attention from all the medical interventions. It's not a stunt. We just want to grow our family like you do/have. You get that right, parents? You get that those children you swear you'd die for are worth this, don't you?

So please, please, please, please, PLEASE give us a break from the Litany of Platitudes. All of them. For the love of all that is good and kind, leave the adoption cliches alone at the very least. Learn how to love us better! And remind us that no matter how ugly the journey is that we're on, you'll be there with us. You support God's will and timing and plan for our life and we will forever appreciate you for it. If you can't do that, you aren't really living the Catholic faith you profess. And neither are we Catholic infertile if we let the Litany of Platitudes get the best of us (all the time).

God's peace and goodness to everyone who found themselves reading along today. Thank you for taking this with the charity and love it was written with and thank you for following along with this humble blog as I seek to make sense of my own infertility.

This post is the fourth in a series on infertility. If you'd like to read from the beginning, click on the picture below to read the original post in the series where all of the posts will be linked.

Infertility Awareness: A Catholic Perspective

One in six couples will experience infertility at some point in their marriage. Infertility is medically defined as the inability to conceive after 12 cycles of “unprotected” intercourse or 6 cycles using “fertility-focused” intercourse. A couple who has never conceived has “primary infertility” and a couple who has conceived in the past (regardless of the outcome) but is unable to again has “secondary infertility”. Many couples who experience infertility have also experienced miscarriage or pregnancy loss.

This week, April 19 – 25, 2015 is National Infertility Awareness Week.

We, a group of Catholic women who have experienced infertility, would like to take a moment to share with you what the experience of infertility is like, share ways that you can be of support to a family member or friend, and share resources that are helpful.

If you are experiencing infertility, please know you are not alone. You are loved and prayed for and there are resources to help you with the spiritual, emotional, and medical aspects of this journey.

In the beginning of trying to conceive a child, there is much hope and anticipation; for some, even a small fear of “what if we get pregnant right away?” There is planning of how to tell your husband and when you’d announce to the rest of the family. It is a joyful time that for most couples results in a positive pregnancy test within the first few months. However, for one in six couples, the months go by without a positive test and the fears and doubts begin to creep in. At the 6th month of trying using fertility-focused intercourse (using Natural Family Planning), the couple knows something is wrong and is considered “infertile” by doctors who understand the charting of a woman’s pattern of fertility. At the 9th month of trying, the month that, had they conceived that first month, a baby would have been arriving, is often the most painful of the early milestones. At the 12th month mark the couple “earns” the label from the mainstream medical community as “infertile”.

As the months go by, the hopes and dreams are replaced with fears, doubts, and the most invasive doctors’ appointments possible. As a Catholic couple faithful to the teachings of the Church, we are presented by secular doctors with options that are not options for us and are told things like “you’ll never have children” and “you have unexplained infertility”; by our Catholic doctors we are told to keep praying and to have hope as they roll up their sleeves and work hard to figure out the cause of our infertility, with each visit asking, “How are you and your husband doing with all of this?”

We find it hard to fit in. We have faith and values that are different than our secular culture, but our small families, whether childless (primary infertility) or with fewer children than we hoped for (secondary infertility), make us blend in with the norm. We have faith and values that are in line with the teachings of our Church, but our daily life looks so much different than the others who share those values and that makes us stand out in a way that we would rather not. We are Catholic husbands and wives living out our vocation fully. Our openness to life does not come in the form of children; it takes on the form of a quiet “no” or “not yet” or “maybe never” from God each month as we slowly trod along. Our openness to and respect for life courageously resists the temptations presented to us by the secular artificial reproductive technology industry.

Often times our friends and family do not know what to say to us, and so they choose to not say anything. Our infertility stands like a great big elephant in the room that separates us from others. Most of the time, we don’t want to talk about it, especially not in public or in group settings because it is painful and we will often shed tears. We realize it is difficult and ask that you realize this difficulty as well. We will do our best to be patient and to explain our situation to those who genuinely would like to know, but please respect our privacy and the boundaries we establish, as not only is infertility painful, it is also very personal.

One of the hardest experiences of infertility is that it is cyclical. Each month we get our hopes up as we try; we know what our due date would be as soon as we ovulate; we know how we would share the news with our husband and when and how we would tell our parents. We spend two weeks walking a fine line between hope and realism, between dreaming and despairing. When our next cycle begins – with cramps and bleeding and tears – we often only have a day or two before we must begin taking the medications that are meant to help us conceive. There is little to no time to mourn the dream that is once again not achievable; no time to truly allow ourselves to heal from one disappointment before we must begin hoping and trying again. We do not get to pick what days our hormones will plummet or how the medications we are often taking will affect us. We do not get to pick the day that would be “best” for us for our next cycle to start. We are at the mercy of hope, and while that hope keeps us going it is also what leaves us in tears when it is not realized.

Some will experience infertility with a complete lack of cycles. Some couples won't even get to experience the benefit of being able to really try to conceive because of this harsh reality, which is a constant reminder of brokenness for those experiencing it. The pain and anxiety that comes from a lack of reproductive health can be crippling.

And yet others, despite hormonal dysfunction and health issues, will experience the cyclical nature of infertility through conception itself (or recurring conception). These couples go on to lose their children (early, full term, or shortly after birth, and anywhere in between) either once or many times. If you know that we've experienced a loss (something we may or may not have the courage to share), know that we are grieving. It wasn't "just" a pregnancy or "just another" pregnancy that was lost; it was our living baby that died. And we are more likely to be traumatized by the cyclical nature of our infertility because of our losses. We do not get to choose that our cycles will mimic our losses. We are at the mercy of hope.

Our faith is tested. We ask God “why?”, we yell at Him; we draw closer to God and we push Him away. Mass brings us to tears more often than not and the season of Advent brings us to our knees. The chorus of “Happy Mother’s Day” that surrounds us at Mass every year will be almost more devastating than the blessing of mothers itself. We know that the Lord is trustworthy and that we can trust in Him; sometimes it is just a bigger task than we can achieve on our own.

* Pray for us. Truly, it is the best thing that anyone can do.

* Do not make assumptions about anything - not the size of a family or whether or not a couple knows what is morally acceptable to the Church. Most couples who experience infertility do so in silence and these assumptions only add to the pain. If you are genuinely interested, and not merely curious, begin a genuine friendship and discover the truth over time.

* Do not offer advice such as “just relax," “you should adopt," “try this medical option or that medical option” – or really give any advice. Infertility is a symptom of an underlying medical problem; a medical problem that often involves complicated and invasive treatment to cure.

* Do not assume that we will adopt. Adoption is a separate calling and should be discerned by every married couple irrespective of their ability to conceive biological children. Infertility does not automatically mean that a couple is meant to adopt.

* Do not assume that if we try to adopt that the process will be successful. Many adoption attempts fail and don't result in a couple receiving a child placement (temporarily or permanently). Some couples are flat out rejected from attempting to adopt by different agencies and governments. Just like adoption is an incredibly intrusive and emotionally charged issue that is part of a separate calling in the journey to "parenthood", it isn't always a possibility for infertile parents. Do not assume we can. And be gentle if we are trying. It's extra painful to be infertile and not be able to adopt. And we are likely so hurt that we can't bear to share the details with everyone.

* Ask how we are doing and be willing to hear and be present for the “real” answer. Often times we answer, “OK” because that’s the easy, “safe” answer. Let us know that you are willing to walk through this tough time with us. Frequently we just need someone who is willing to listen and give us a hug and let us know we are loved.

* Offer a Mass for us or give us a prayer card or medal to let us know you are praying for us. Just please refrain from telling us how we must pray this novena or ask for that saint’s intercession. Most likely we’ve prayed it and ask for the intercession daily. Please feel free to pray novenas and ask for intercession on our behalf.

* Be tolerant and patient. The medications we take can leave us at less than our best; we may not have the energy or ability to do much. Please also respect us when we say "no, thank you" to food or drinks. We may have restricted diets due to our medical conditions and/or medications.

* Share the good news of your pregnancy privately (preferably in an email or card or letter and not via text, IM chat, phone call or in person) and as soon as possible. Please understand that we are truly filled with joy for you; any sadness we feel is because we have been reminded of our own pain and we often feel horrible guilt over it as well. Please be patient and kind if we don’t respond immediately, attend your baby shower or don’t “Like” all of your Facebook updates about your children. Again, it is really about us, not you.

* Help steer group conversations away from pregnancy and parenting topics when we are around. We like to be able to interact in a conversation to which we can contribute meaningfully.

*Do not exclude us from your life because you think we may be uncomfortable. It is actually more painful to be left out because of the cross we're carrying, and we know that doesn't make a lot of sense to our families and friends. We will excuse ourselves from events or situations if we must, and please let us do so gracefully if the circumstance arises.

* Do not ask when we are going to “start a family” (we started one the day we got married).

* Do not ask which one of us is the “problem” – we are either fertile or infertile as a couple.

* Do grieve with us if you know that we've experienced a miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant death (or many). You may not know what to say to comfort us, and that's ok. Let us grieve at our own pace and on our own schedule without guilt or explanations, even if we have living children. Do not offer platitudes for why you think it happened, how you think it's part of God's plan for us to suffer, or any number of things you think might have been wrong with the child. It was our living baby that died. Let us grieve, pray for us, and if you can, let us know you care by being there for us in our grief. Let us know that you remember that our baby lived, no matter how short of a life. 

* Do not say things like "I know you'll be parents some day," or "It will happen, I know it will!" Along the same lines, please do not tell us stories of a couple you know who struggled for years and went on to conceive or to "just adopt and then you'll get pregnant" (this one actually only happens a small percentage of the time). Only God knows what our future holds, please pray with us that we are able to graciously accept His will for our lives.

* Do not pity us. Yes, we have much sorrow. Yes, we struggle. But, we place our faith in God, lean on the grace of our marriage, and trust that someday, whether here on earth or in heaven, we will see and understand God’s plan.

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Because this topic is so difficult for so many women and men, the best thing our friends and family can do (and indeed strangers we encounter who may be aware of our struggles) is pray for us. We are grateful for those who offer their prayers and support in a gentle way. Your support is invaluable to us.

Lastly, remember that compassion means "to suffer with". We didn't sign up for this to happen. We can't control whether we overcome this. And we're doing our best to navigate the murky waters and maintain our sanity and our faith and our relationships with our family and friends through it all. We truly need your support and love to accomplish that. Please, please suffer with us and be Christ to us. No other understanding of our cross will be more merciful or more loving than if you put yourself in a situation to sympathize or empathize with us. The pain of infertility is exacerbated by the fact that it draws us into ourselves. We need your help to remind us in the most difficult moments that we aren't alone, God didn't forget us, and that we have something precious to offer through the fruitfulness of our marriage even when it isn't manifesting in the children we so desperately want to hold. Together, we can offer up our shared suffering for Christ. It's a powerful witness to both of our faiths to travel this road together and we'll manage it better with your help than if we have to travel it all alone. 

This post was made possible through the collaboration of 430 members of a "secret" facebook group of Catholic women and men struggling with the pains of infertility in all of its forms. Together we are stronger. And in having the conversation, we are breaking the silence. If you are Catholic and experiencing the pains of infertility and would like to join a "secret" facebook support group, please send me a message on my contact form and provide me with your email address and we will happily add you to our discussion. 




This post is the fourth in a series on infertility. If you'd like to read from the beginning, click on the picture below to read the original post in the series where all of the posts will be linked.

Ephemeral Shadows - A Glimpse at Actively Struggling with Infertility

Perhaps there is no better way to begin a series on struggling with infertility than with the words of someone who has lived it. And by that, I mean that I am sharing Laura Bush's beautiful and poignant words about her own active struggle. While the sentences might read crisply, you can feel the restraint and pain in the words. The last line of this passage is by far one of the most touching I've ever read on the subject of infertility, and that's why I'm starting this series off by quoting it. There are so many ways to define actively struggling, but this will hopefully ground the words that follow in our discussion as we begin to bridge the painful and very personal topic of infertility:

For some years now, the wedding invitations that had once crowded the mailbox had been replaced by shower invites and pink-or-blue-beribboned baby announcements. I bought onesies or rattles, wrapped them in yellow paper, and delivered them to friends. I had done it with a happy wistfulness, believing that someday my time, my baby, would come. George and I had hoped that I would be pregnant by the end of his congressional run. Then we hoped it would be by the time his own father announced his presidential run, then by the presidential primaries, the convention, the general election. But each milestone came and went. The calendar advanced, and there was no baby.

The English language lacks the words to mourn an absence. For the loss of a parent, grandparent, spouse, child or friend, we have all manner of words and phrases, some helpful some not. Still we are conditioned to say something, even if it is only “I’m sorry for your loss.” But for an absence, for someone who was never there at all, we are wordless to capture that particular emptiness. For those who deeply want children and are denied them, those missing babies hover like silent ephemeral shadows over their lives. Who can describe the feel of a tiny hand that is never held? ~ Spoken from the Heart by Laura Bush

This post is the second in a series on infertility. If you'd like to read from the beginning, click on the picture below to read the original post in the series where all of the posts will be linked.

Infertility Awareness Week 2015

She hasn't ever seen a positive pregnancy test, despite years of trying.

She got pregnant on her honeymoon, but never got a baby in her arms.

She gets pregnant several times a year, but at this point she can hardly tell the difference between a period and a miscarriage.

She has never had a period because she doesn't have a uterus.

He sees a child playing in the distance and is instantly gripped with sadness over his own loss.

He tries his best to comfort his wife, but he feels empty and broken inside and doesn't know what he has to even offer her anymore.

There are so many ways to live with the cross of infertility. Many of them are silent. Most of them are lived in the private moments away from the rest of the world's view. And for those who struggle with infertility through the lens of their faith, it can seem an endlessly lonely journey. Lonely...but yet when you reached out to all of those surrounding you for the Sign of Peace at church this week, several of those people had a personal connection with infertility themselves. The statistics tell us that in a room full of just a handful of people...even those who have children... you will be in a room with someone who is struggling (or has struggled) with infertility.

Infertility is a constant undercurrent of pain beneath an otherwise tranquil surface, 

for most who struggle with it.

The women and men who live through these gut-wrenching realities are your close friends. They are your family. They are your coworkers and acquaintances. And they are not nearly the minority they seem by how little infertility is spoken about. You have at least one person, if not several people, in your life right now who are actively struggling with infertility.

Actively Struggling. That's a big phrase, but what does it mean when it comes to infertility? We're going to talk a lot about actively struggling this week on the blog, so make sure to check back for some expansion on that phrase, what it means, and what you can do to help. And rest assured we'll offer you solid answers when we present the struggles of infertility to you this week.

Defining the Beast. Infertility is lived in many forms. We have to understand and define what it is and what it isn't before we can build context for how to deal with it. This week, you'll read about those who struggle with primary IF (they've never had a child), secondary IF (they are infertile after having a child), miscarriage (they conceive, but lose their baby), ectopic pregnancy (they are faced with ethical dilemmas involving medical treatment, with the baby's life and the mother's health simultaneously at risk), recurring pregnancy loss (they conceive over and over, but never get a living child), stillbirth (their baby doesn't live to natural birth), and premature infant death (their child dies soon after birth). It's not just one thing in one solitary form, as you can see.

Awareness of Infertility. This week is considered to be Infertility Awareness Week. You're not going to find us talking a lot about awareness though. As far as we're concerned, infertile couples are plenty aware of their infertility already. And for everyone else (those not experiencing infertility...as well as those experiencing super fertility)...we're pretty sure you understand that some people aren't living your situation and that infertility is the opposite end of the spectrum. In fact, many other Catholic IF bloggers tackle the topic of spreading awareness - and they do it well - so we're going to stick with what we can offer the topic. You are guaranteed to be aware if you follow along with this blog series, so don't feel like you are missing out!

Litany of Platitudes. You can find refuge from every struggle in the Bible, including infertility they say. Yes, and you will also find that every Biblical figure who struggled with infertility was eventually given a child by God at the end of their trials too. How much solace is that for a woman with no uterus? We're going to explore the litany of platitudes that make infertility more difficult. And we're going to talk about how Scripture can be helpful if we approach it the right way. Similarly, you might be meaning well as a Christian in how you approach others with God's Word (but simultaneously be causing excruciating pain for a friend or family member of yours)....so follow along this week and we'll share ideas on how you can stop hurting and start helping.

Choosing to Thrive. You'll not find any perfect end to this blog series. And you can rest assured that you won't find an ultrasound photo at the end of it either. Instead, we'll be talking about marriage and what God calls us to be to our spouse, with or without children. We'll talk a little about how that intersects with our lived faith, day to day. And we'll talk about the stages of infertility that don't involve crossing over. If the entire journey is juxtaposed as "stuff to sort through until you get a baby", then the pain we feel from infertility isn't purposeful. There is purpose to suffering and God's plan can be found amidst even this awful reality for so many couples.

Good Intentions. Yes, yes, the path to hell is solidly lined with them. We all know this. What does carrying the cross of infertility have to do with any of that? We're going to talk about that this week as well. Infertility is not a journey of finding solace in other things. It is not a journey to be lived through the trite advice of others, as they try to make sense (out loud, most often painfully) of things that don't make sense. Infertility is a symptom of something that is wrong and no amount of trivializing, redirecting, or trying to diminish the pain a couple experiences with it will make it better. Good intentions can be turned on their heel into what Christ really asks of us...but they more often get turned into IVF rounds for those experiencing infertility. We're going to share a few truths on that vein.

Just by taking the time to read, share, and talk about this topic, you are helping to drive the conversation towards healing. When infertility stops being the painful undercurrent, couples will find the courage to speak about their own experience with it more. Let's have the conversation this week - in posts, in comments, in shares across social media. Let's ask questions. Let's be willing to listen. And let's be willing to not have answers when we are faced with the struggles of infertility. Compassion will lead us through this together. I'm convinced there is no other way.