Showing posts with label miscarriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miscarriage. Show all posts

Thursday, October 15, 2015

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.


Wednesday, April 22, 2015

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.

___________________________________________________

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.



Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Defining the Beast: What is Infertility?



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. In the narrowest of contexts, the mainstream medical definition reads as follows, regardless of the source you use for the definition:

But what about recurring miscarriage? And what about stillbirth? And what about the obvious glaring fact that the Catholic view of fertility only exists in the context of a man and woman together...so there isn't any female or male infertility separate from the couple's infertility? As you can see, mainstream medical definitions do nothing to underscore the broader religious context. And the narrow view used to define infertility medically has actually has limited our current understanding of what the cross truly is. 

Infertile couples live in a perpetual state of longing for children.

We can agree as Christians that the primary desire of every couple is to be fruitful. Accepting children lovingly from God can be a big part of that fruitfulness, but it's not the primary means by which couples unite themselves to each other. As Catholics, we believe that marriage is both unitive and procreative. That means there will be people called to many different forms of unitive love and procreative love. And the ways in which that loves manifests will be rich and diverse.

But let's talk about how most people understand entering into marriage: as a calling to begin family life. When we look at the growth of our family in marriage, it's a natural want to include children in that growth. For many couples, the children don't come. Or the conception happens and then a miscarriage follows. Or a pregnancy is achieved and is relatively uneventful and then the child dies right before birth. Or worse, the child is born and dies shortly thereafter. The common anguish shared amongst all of these different parents in these scenarios is that they longed for their shared love to grow their family in a tangible way. Being denied the ability to grow your family cuts at the very heart of our human urges and needs. Inside every single person, regardless of whether are in touch with this desire or not, is a desire to be fruitful. Wanting children is one natural (and very common) manifestation of fruitfulness in marriage.

It's too "simple" to say that infertility only affects the couples who don't conceive in a year. We leave out the immense pain of the couple who had a child, but then struggles to ever conceive again. In fact, we also leave out the people who were born with genetic conditions that left them without the capacity to procreate at all. And we leave out the couples who can't conceive and can't adopt. Just adopt, they say. Not everyone can. Imagine being infertile and being unable to qualify for adoption. The pain and anguish! (We'll ignore the fact that adoption is a separate calling right now...but rest assured we will revisit that topic this week).

If we simply defined infertility using parameters that include everyone who struggles to get and keep a baby in their arms, we would begin to understand the complicated topic of infertility much better. And we would be reaching our arms around the topic much more completely than by using the mainstream medical definition. We'd also be the only group of people including those couples who met, fell in love, and married later in life...which is a group of people that the medical definition entirely excludes.

And at the end of the day, isn't that what the entire topic of infertility is about? Including the people that feel excluded and left wanting! Defining the beast by measuring its reach. Qualifying the longing to quantify the prevalence.

Infertility, at its core, is about living in the longing and being denied the ability to bring about tangible growth from the love you share with your spouse.

....and that's something that requires grieving to process. So without further ado, let's define the beast and let's include everyone who ought to be inside the definition of infertility:




There are a couple of different ways to define primary infertility. We believe that it's more than just the obvious. And that's mostly because we live in the grey area between this category and the next few we'll be defining.

Primary infertility definitely describes the couple who has never conceived. They've never gotten a positive pregnancy test. They've tried for months and it's just not happening. Generally, using 6 months of fertility-focused intercourse will get you this diagnosis. And when we say "fertility-focused intercourse", you need to know what that means inside and out. You know exactly when you are fertile and you are using those days (before, during, and after estimated ovulation). Couples who have primary infertility know that they can't get pregnant every day of the month. They know that there is a small window of time each cycle when it conception is possible and they know how to find that window and use it. When they are doing this diligently, there is no reason not to expect pregnancy to occur. Whether it's a problem with the woman's hormones or the man's motility, or any number of combinations of minor dysfunction involving the shared reproductive tracts of the couple... after 6 months of trying, a couple can be considered infertile medically speaking. Good doctors will investigate possible causes, run tests to try and identify issues, and treat things as naturally and supportively and therapeutically as possible to help a couple overcome primary infertility.

Some couples will live their entire marriage with this kind of infertility and they will never experience anything but a lack of children coming from the unitive love they share with each other. It is not appropriate to tell someone experiencing primary infertility to just adopt. Adoption is a separate calling - and most importantly - not everyone will be able to (or be approved to) adopt. The diagnosis and treatment of primary infertility is extraordinarily invasive in every sense: physically, mentally, and emotionally. It will take a giant toll on any couple who experiences it and pursues medical avenues to treat and cure it. The calling to adopt is also extremely invasive. It is reasonable to expect a couple to want to explore their infertility and treat it according to their conscience as a married couple, within the framework of Catholic teaching. To put that in plainer language - not every couple will take (or be able to take) every measure to investigate their infertility in this category. The married couple themselves must decide what is best for them in terms of approaching this. With that said, the Catholic Church is very clear about the ethics of treating infertility and the ethics surrounding the individual treatments. A married Catholic couple must form their consciences within that framework. You can read more about what treatment is licit from an official Catholic resource here.

It is common for a couple experiencing primary infertility, whether it lasts almost 6 months or lingers for their entire marriage, to mourn the absence of children in their marriage and to navigate and process all of the stages of grief as a result of it. The cycle of grief can begin and end each cycle and repeat any number of times. The loss of tangible growth to a family is processed very similarly to the death of a family member. The pain never goes away, regardless of the passage of time.



Miscarriage is defined as the loss of a baby who gestational age has not yet reached 20 weeks. Couples who experience miscarriage may also be experiencing primary or secondary infertility. Typically, a couple experiencing miscarriage with no living children before the loss are considered to be in the secondary infertility category. In the vein of inclusion we are using as we define things though, let's explore this through the lens of primary infertility as well. Many couples who have experienced the tragedy and pain of miscarriage and have no living children would actually consider themselves to be experiencing primary infertility, despite the formal definition. This is more a representation of the longing they still hold for children (as well as a lack of understanding how to live their role as parents with no child to hold).

You could be a newlywed couple and conceive on your honeymoon, lose your child through spontaneous abortion (that's what the medical world actually calls a miscarriage) before the child reaches 20 weeks, and because you still don't get a baby in your arms like we talked about above...you might process this like primary infertility. Your doctor might call your condition secondary infertility. Neither is wrong, in our eyes. The most important thing is that people should seek to understand and meet the couple where they are on this topic, not argue the rightness or wrongness of the moniker they identify with most.

Many married couples who experience these early losses don't have a real sense for their own role as parents. It doesn't change the fact that they are parents though! Just know that the grey area of understanding on primary and secondary infertility usually intersects with the topic of miscarriage (and stillbirth and infant death). Medically speaking, the formal distinction can be of importance for treatment purposes. It is important to let your doctor to know whether conception has ever occurred in your marriage when you are receiving infertility treatment. Let's put that grey area to rest for now though and move on to the child involved in miscarriage:

Nothing about a miscarried child is different in dignity than in a living child. The longing to be parents remains for those who have lost a child. But the child themselves is whole, distinct, unique, and completely equal in dignity, soul, and person to any living child. It is difficult to remember for parents who never had an ultrasound or heard a heart beat on doppler. We might be eager to draw distinction at the steps and phases of growth, saying that the further along, the greater the tragedy. But truly, if we respect life in all stages - we must recognize that the unborn child is equal to the tangible life we understand, hold, and cherish. In the same way that Catholics are called to hold faith in things they cannot see or touch, we are called to respect the life of unborn children equal to those who are living.

Miscarriage can be defined as a singular loss, or as we'll expand on below, it can be a recurring condition. Conception isn't necessarily what these couples long for so much as safe gestation and delivery. It is natural to find yourself questioning the reality of your pregnancy and grieving the personhood of a soul you never met. The most comforting thing I can think of on this topic: the cells of a conceived child actually remain in a mother her entire life. Scientific research has found fetal cells in the hearts and brains of the mothers who conceived them. We literally hold them in our hearts and minds forever. There is no figurative about it.

Miscarriage is distinctly different in definition from stillbirth. While the dignity of the child is equal in both situations, stillbirth (as we'll discuss below) is a term used to describe the loss (spontaneous abortion) of a child that is 20 weeks gestational age and beyond. The name for the loss is merely a temporal description, not a distinction that one child was more or less based on when they were lost.

It is common for women who experience miscarriage to feel like their bodies have betrayed them, that they are a "death trap", and to feel and process all of the stages of grief. For men, it is common to be confused and conflicted in how to process the loss. It can also be difficult for men and women to understand each other's grief and to support each other through the loss.



Those who have conceived a child and are unable to conceive again are said to be experiencing secondary infertility. We discussed above that (medically speaking) the outcome of the pregnancy itself is not how a person reaches this diagnosis. Many people will process this diagnosis only in the context of having a living child, followed by infertility. It is not wrong for a couple to do this, and people should aim to meet the child where they are.

Similarly to primary infertility, but maybe even stronger in religious circles...a married couple may find that people urge them to adopt when they don't go on to conceive other children. Others will assume a couple is "done" having children. Still others might wrongly think the couple is contracepting. The fact remains that it is no one's business but the couple on how large or small their family grows. And for those who want more children, secondary infertility can be a deeply painful experience because of all of the unsolicited judgment, advice, and suspicion that may surround them.

Infertility is a symptom of an underlying health condition. It is either the direct result and outcome of a disease or a symptom of the onset of disease. In no other realm of medicine would we offer such strident and painful judgments, opinions, or terse comments.....yet we do with couples experiencing infertility. While this issue is not unique to secondary infertility on its own, one of the things that strikes me the most about secondary infertility is that we actually witness the onset of a problem and we see the symptom manifest in infertility. Infertility has been likened to cancer in how seriously the patient manages it physically, medically, psychologically. So why the judgment? Would we ever tell a person struggling through chemotherapy that they must have done something *else* to make their hair fall out? Would we tell someone suffering from cancerous tumors that "it'll be ok, just relax and everything will resolve itself!". No. Flat No. BIG FAT NO.

It is common for a couple experiencing secondary infertility, whether it lasts almost 6 months or lingers for the rest of their marriage, to mourn the absence of additional children in their marriage and to navigate and process all of the stages of grief as a result of it. The cycle of grief can begin and end each cycle and repeat any number of times. The loss of an ability to grow their family cuts deeply. They long to provide siblings for any living children. In fact, their living children may compound the cross by begging for siblings. Even if the infertility is able to be overcome in some way, the pain from that phase of life is not completely resolved at the advent of additional children. Deep wounds leave large scars. Having one child is no solace for the family you feel God calling you to grow. There is no comfort for a couple experiencing secondary infertility and their experience is as raw as any of the other forms of longing that we've already discussed.



In the realm of fertility as a whole, ectopic pregnancy is one of the most feared situations any married couple can encounter (and rightly so). Ectopic simply means "in an abnormal place or position". We often think of ectopic to simply reference a tubal pregnancy. It's nowhere near that simple though. Ectopic pregnancy can mean any pregnancy that implants in the wrong place, whether it be outside of the uterus, in the fimbria, in the tube itself, on the cervix, or any number of other combinations. There are clinical observations of implantation occurring on other organs in the pelvic cavity. And because the ovary itself is not connected to the fimbria, it's always possible for the egg to migrate elsewhere. Many things can increase/reduce your risk for this to occur.

Tragically, most of the time these pregnancies are not viable. And they pose great danger and risk of hemorrhage and death to the mother. Any time implantation does not occur as expected, there is a grave medical risk to the mother. But in all situations of ectopic pregnancy, it is generally considered fatal to the baby. Yes, you will hear about the one-off miracles where a baby somehow gestated outside the womb for the entire pregnancy and lived. But it is not the majority experience, or even likely to occur. It is the exception. And when the implantation occurs in the tube, it must be dealt with immediately to prevent the mother from tube rupture and massive internal bleeding.

Couples will often first have the joyful experience of a positive pregnancy test, followed by an ultrasound that does not show any gestational sac. Or depending on where implantation has occurred, the mother might be nauseated or experience sharp stabbing pelvic pain. It can vary by couple, but it can also vary from pregnancy to pregnancy as ectopic pregnancy is something that generally predisposes someone to experience it again.

Christians are faced with unique pain, ethical dilemmas, and heartache in this form of infertility. From a Catholic medical perspective, no doctor in good conscience can directly attack the child in treating the mother's health. In fact, many Catholic doctors will seek to find a heartbeat in determining how to proceed in treatment of the condition for the mother. Why does this matter? Many doctors feel that certain medical treatments for the mother might not be permissable if the baby is still living. As a Catholic, the doctor will want to proceed in the manner that is safest for the mother....but also in a way that they aren't compromising their commitment to protect life at all stages. It's a difficult area, to be sure. But suffice it to say, no doctor wants to actively kill the child to save the mother...but sometimes treating the mother results in the death of the child. The intent and approach matter. A lot.

Theologians and ethicists will refer to the treatment of ectopic pregnancy as needing to follow the principle of double effect. If the good medical treatment of the mother in danger of death (as all ectopic pregnancies endangers the life of the mother) results in the death of the child, then that is considered licit. And beyond being licit, that's considered the standard of care for a Catholic. If the medical treatment is focused on killing the child directly for the purpose saving the mother... that doesn't meet the ethical test.

Suffice it to say, I offer these situations not to stem a debate on the use of certain medications or the emergency treatment of a mother at risk of severe hemorrhage or death. And certainly not to question the treatment anyone received in the past. And I never my thoughts as a form of judgment on how the situation was managed in your own care, if you are reading this as a survivor of this terrible situation. I offer these words merely as a way to have the conversation about the pain of ectopic pregnancy (something I've never personally experienced). When we define something and put any boundaries on that definition, there is a human tendency to impart bias and judgment on it. You will encounter a lot of disagreement regarding the topic of ectopic pregnancy even amongst Catholics, and certainly amongst Christians worldwide. The thoughts I've shared here are the result of research and interaction with Catholic ethicists and priests and medical doctors in the search for truth on this topic.

Men may feel completely helpless in the treatment of their child and wife in this medically emergent situation. And perhaps the rawest part of this topic is that we now know that prior contraceptive use can be directly related to changing how fast the egg travels through the tube and it can majorly increase the risk of experience a tubal pregnancy because of that. The slower the egg travels, the more likely it is implant in the tube. There are a variety of things that impact a woman's risk for ectopic pregnancy though. That's just one of them. Lord have mercy on these children and their mothers.




These couples conceive children (whether conception comes easily for them or not!), but they never get a child in their arms. Whether the loss is a result of miscarriage or stillbirth (remember that time is the only distinction between those two words), most couples will identify with this definition of infertility at more than one loss in their marriage. Recurring really does imply that it has occurred more than once. That said, you will often hear RPL (the acronym used for this) used to identify couples who have had a massive number of losses. 5, 10, 15, 20. Lord, have mercy for how these couples carry this brutal cross.

Medically speaking, recurring pregnancy loss as a diagnosis is usually given at 3 losses.

Now let's take a moment to discuss mainstream medicine's approach to infertility. It's pretty horrifying, when we look at it in the context of this specific topic. In mainstream medicine, you generally have to have 3 losses before a doctor will do a work-up on the woman to identify any issues that might need treatment. That's right, you would technically already be in the recurring loss category by the time a doctor even paid attention to your infertility. Am I the only one who is horrified at that?? I can't be. In the world of Christians and all who believe in the dignity of life from natural conception to natural birth.........we have to push ourselves to do better than this. There is no unexplained infertility, folks.

There is always a reason for loss. You might just not know why the loss is occurring. Is it immunological? Biological? Physiological? Genetic? Antibody related? Blood type related? Implantation related? Lining related? Velocity of egg transportation related? Sperm motility related? Cervix related? Hormonal biochemistry related? Thyroid related? Adrenal related? Hypothalamus or pituitary related? Is it the result of disease? Organ malformities? Virus? Unknown pathogen?

The only answer may be that there is one and we don't know it yet.

And maybe more confusingly, is that we aren't guaranteed to find the answer even if we exhaust all modern technologies and procedures available to us. Even if our means are extraordinary and we have the emotional capacity to stay the long, painful course....we just aren't guaranteed answers. What might be simply low progesterone from a deficient organ formation of the corpus luteum in one person, may be a complex tubal occlusion in another, and may be an unfortunately placed defect in the myometrium in another. There won't ever be one reason for RPL amongst all who experience it. And more frustrating is that it isn't always the same reason in one couple. Each pregnancy is unique and in a handful of losses (Lord, have mercy), it can be a different reason for each child's death.

The one answer we do have as Christians is this: a couple is not required to seek all medical treatment needed to find the answer. As Catholics, we form our consciences based on the framework of church teaching and we pray and discern what is best for our own marriage. The answer will look different couple by couple, year by year, and the answer may be revisited and wrestled with over and over.






Couples who experience the pain of stillbirth are those who conceived and carried children for most or all of a normal length pregnancy. From 20 weeks through delivery, any loss of a child is typically referred to as stillbirth. There are many reasons why a child would fail to thrive or die in utero, some of which can be diagnosed and some of which cannot. Many of the details surrounding stillbirth are still a mystery. In fact, maybe couples experiencing this brutal cross that ultimately leaves them with no baby in their arms tend to relate to couple experiencing RPL, as discussed above.

As with miscarriage, the child is unique and distinct regardless of their gestational age or the rate at which they developed in the womb. Some couple will experience the loss of a stillborn child at exactly 20 weeks. Others will have later losses. Still others may lose their children right before or during delivery. Regardless of the temporal details involving the child (no loss is more or less tragic because all children are equal in dignity!), it is a heavy burden for the parents.

Stillborn babies are often referred to as born sleeping. It's a beautiful way to describe them, in my opinion. Perfectly formed babies, with features clearly of their mother and father, born into eternal life in a state of permanent sleep....it's a fitting way to replace the word "still", isn't it?

Often times, doctors will use fetal tissue to try and determine whether there is a genetic or infectious reason for the loss. Many times, there is something discernably wrong upon careful inspection of the placenta or umbilical cord. Perhaps the child was unfortunately strangled by a twisted or wrapped cord. Perhaps the cord disconnected from the placenta itself. Or perhaps it was too short or tore open. There are many reasons for stillbirth at all stages from 20 weeks to delivery.

The sad reality about stillbirth is that there often is no identifiable cause. And by that, I mean that current medical science just isn't able to pinpoint the reason for death. It is hypothesized that a tremendous amount of stillbirths are the results of pathogens that we just can't detect with current technology. Yet other scientists think that stillbirth is the result of hormonal issues (namely that thyroid is more often to blame than we currently think).

Couples that suffer stillbirth have finished nurseries, sat through baby showers and opened presents for the child they waited for patiently. They celebrated positive pregnancies and were in awe for months at the beauty of their child in utero, as they watched him or her move on the ultrasound screen. It can be difficult to describe the loss when all of the parts of the lead up to parenthood have been lived except the part that involved rocking the baby in your arms.

Stillborn babies, unlike miscarried babies, are often administered the sacrament of baptism in the Catholic Church. This often occurs at the bedside of the mother after labor, given the emergent nature of the situation. If there is even a possibility that the child could have taken one breath after birth, then baptism is appropriate. Priests will deal with these details directly with the couple, and specific to the actual circumstances. Stillborn babies - like miscarried babies - deserve a Christian burial. These burials can be their own mass or they can occur at the graveside. Different diocese will deal with each situation according to its own circumstances. 

The parents of a stillborn baby deserve to mourn this loss like any immediate family member's death. And the people who surround them should rally in support of the complicated weeks, months, and years ahead. There is no end to the suffering that parents experience at the death of a child. They come home from the hospital with new life ahead of them, but not the one they dreamed of and prayed for like parents of living babies. As a form of infertility, stillbirth is often misunderstood. We dispel the fact that a lack of conception is the only form of infertility by reminding people that the parents of stillborn babies have a lot to teach us on the topic of infertility.




Infertility sometimes manifests itself in a child that is born alive and dies soon after. Many couples who experience this unique kind of loss are in the RPL category as well. They may have also experienced miscarriages before it. As horrific as it is to lose one child...these parents often lose many. And yet it can be the exact opposite as well. A couple can have several healthy children and go on to have an unexplained infant death. 

Medical science has a long way to go in understanding, identifying, and preventing infant death. Treatments are leaps and bounds ahead of where they were in years past, but we still do not have the capacity to prevent all infant death. Part of the double edge to that sword is that diagnostic measures taken to identify adverse outcomes in pregnancy are sometimes used to recommend inducing abortion. As Christians, we know that there is no choice: all life is precious and to be protected. There are no ifs, and, buts, or medical details that could change that objective Truth.

The use of diagnostic tools in trying to identify maternal and fetal risks can be incredibly invasive. And at the same time, these kinds of procedures and tools that are meant to proactively diagnose issues often carry heavy risks of miscarriage, stillbirth, and fetal death. Many Catholics will say that they believe the risks outweigh the benefits for them. Things like amniocentesis and uterine culturing during certain trimesters can provide some information, but they come with risks of injury or death to gestating children. Couples must discern for themselves, against the framework of church teaching, how they manage those risks.

More confusingly, some couples have no adverse diagnosis prior to birth and still lose their child. There are truly not enough answers for the questions involving infant death. This is a hot topic for scientific research, however, and even just this past week there was a breakthrough in SIDS research. SIDS is a form of infant death that scientists have now correlated to inner ear dysfunction. It will be interesting to see if future research determines causality in that connection so that doctors can develop ideas for treatment and preventive medicine. With that said, some infant death is related to genetic dysfunction, physical deformity, or developmental delay. Some infant death is the result of immunological issues, infection, or can be related to maternal disease.

The parents of infants that die are a grieved population. They suffer in silence, like all infertile couples, unable to grow their family and keep a baby in their arms. There is no way to exclude their loss and grief from that of all other couples who experience infertility and live in the longing.

Infertility exists in many forms and when we seek to understand the pain and suffering of those who experience it, we realize that it encompasses a much larger population of people than we might have first imagined. And the infertile that are suffering among us do it mostly in silence. By having the conversation, we are breaking that silence a little. Let's keep the discussion going... 

This post is the third 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.




Sunday, October 12, 2014

A Love Letter to Sadhbh Treasa


Dearest -

I can hardly believe that nine months have come and gone. The absence of you weighs so heavily on me that I still find myself catching my breath when I think of you. You should be *here*. I cry tears of longing for you as I type this and I never even got to meet you.

You were my sweet, lovely, and gentle child. That's how you got that beautiful Irish name of yours. Sadhbh (pronounced 'Sawv') means exactly that: sweet, lovely, gentle lady. And that's all I knew of you: gentleness. Even in the pain of losing you, you were gentle. It's all I'll ever know of you too, isn't it? I promised your daddy that we would keep with family tradition and name you with an Irish name. We would have taught you how to speak Irish too, if we had the chance. Instead, we find ourselves praying in Irish - hoping you can hear us from Heaven, hoping it's a connection that finds its way to you.

We know you must have had beautiful blue or green eyes because we both gave them to you. And the deep-set dimples that melt my heart when I look at your father... they would have been on your face too, because you would have gotten them from us both. You surely had wavy or curly hair and I would have brushed it and braided it so gently for you.

Sadhbh, you have always been so, so, so very wanted. You were my birthday gift, but you should have had an opal for a birth stone. You are wanted every day that I wake up from dreaming about who you must have and would have been. Some days I try to be brave and hold back the pain I feel without you here...and of course I try not to cry all of these very salty tears. Today I can't seem to muster the strength though. I just want to hold you and kiss you and cuddle you and love on you. Instead I sit here aching with emptiness.

It should be a comfort to know that the first thing you ever saw was the face of God and His mother. Most days it's not any comfort though, if I'm being honest. I just ache at all that is missing here in my arms. The void is shaped like you.

My sweet, gentle girl... pray for me and your daddy and pray for my oh so broken heart. Take care of your brother up there too. Give him the hugs and kisses I can't. Even if he squirms. Boys do that...

Slán go fóill, mo iníon álainn
-Someone who doesn't know how to be a mommy yet, but desperately wants to learn how to be yours

Saturday, October 4, 2014

Good Catholic Families

Ask a Catholic when life begins and they will invariably tell you conception. They will detail the fertilization process that occurs between the male and female gamete, resulting in a distinctly and genetically unique human being that is both related to its mother and its father. They will tell you that everything after that moment can only be categorized as growth. But life begins at conception. Catholics agree on that.

Ask an infertile Catholic couple when a family begins and they will tell you the date on which they were married. Everything after that can only be categorized as growth.

But not all Catholics seem to champion this concept as much. Why is that? What is it about having children that makes a family more real or more Catholic? I'm beginning to believe that the decline of the family is, in part, due to this pervasive disbelief of when a family is "born". It's disordered to proclaim that a family begins at any time other than at the moment of marriage. What God has joined...

Are we really protecting Catholic families when we define them by the number of children they have produced? I can see where it could easily be a source of joyful pride to count the blessings of many children in a marriage. It's a dream I've had for my own life and my own marriage for many years - in fact, a dream I had long before I even married. But it seems like a way to disenfranchise and distance yourself from the true definition of marriage and from all who don't or can't enjoy the reality of many living children in their own family. Tell me - how many times have you heard a "good Catholic family" defined as one who occupies an entire pew length to themselves? I can't even keep count anymore. I'd actually offer that being a "good Catholic family" is now a euphemism for being a large family, with many children to its ranks. It seems to me that the essence of family is lost when its very definition is perverted to only mean or embody the extreme far end of the spectrum of fruitfulness that a marriage can enjoy. And while children are indeed a great blessing (ask any Catholic married couple, and I assume they would agree - since their very vows include welcoming children joyfully from God)....children aren't the only fruit of marriage. Good Catholic families sometimes have no children. And those families are remarkably fruitful. And they serve God in their openness to life in all kinds of ways. And I imagine my Heavenly Father being quite pleased with the entire lot of families that lack children in the same way as He is pleased by the lot of families that have any number of children.

I don't think anyone can protect or build up the concept of family (Catholic or not) by using examples of number to describe or explain goodness. It's actually a rather reductionist way of looking at family, if you ask me. It's like saying that there is room for every flower in God's kingdom except the infertile one.

The base unit of *any* family is always a married couple. If life begins at conception, then a family begins at sacramental marriage. It is a complete gift, right from the moment of its creation.

Many might ask: how exactly would you be able to visually pick out a couple at church who have lost 6 children and distinguish them from the couple occupying the entire pew in front of them with their 6 children? One couple are parents many times over...and so is the other. If we believe that life begins at conception, these families must be equal in gifts.

There is no "but" or "still" in this explanation. Both couples represent Catholic families.

And yet if infertility is something that sacramentally married Catholic couples encounter with each other, then that must mean that God's intentions for a fruitful marriage *also* include those who are infertile. In fact, there is no difference between the couple occupying their entire pew and a newlywed couple sitting in front of them, or the family of two that lost 6 souls sitting behind them, or the family on the other side of the sanctuary that was built through the unique gift of adoption, for that matter. They all represent Catholic family life. There is nothing diminished or multiplied by any of them.

Yes, children are a blessing. And if you ask any Catholic couple, they are a blessing worthy of great sacrifice. But they do not define or create a good Catholic family. We need to remember - out loud - to each other - and shared amongst our own families and friends - that God's Greatness and Glory lives in the sacrament of making a family on the day that a Catholic couple are joined together in marriage.

Everything after that is growth.



Monday, September 15, 2014

Finding Meaning in Suffering

This weekend has been difficult to say the least. I find myself a mix of numb and wanting to find meaning in all of this. It can't all just be endless, dark suffering. I already know what letting yourself go down that path does and I worked hard to get back from it the last time we had a miscarriage. I can't bring myself to accept this feeling for months on end right now. So I did what I always do and I try to search for meaning in suffering. I used to just go straight to the Book of Job. It's an easy read when you are pondering a pestilence in your life. Or rather, it's an easy target in the Bible. 

Lately, I haven't been going there though. I've been looking to the feast of the days that I suffer. Finding meaning in our faith has been more enriching than reading about the torture Job endured (again). And I'm learning more about myself and my relationship to the Holy Family in doing so, for what it's worth. It certainly isn't an easy effort. But I have found more meaning in it than just meditating on the rosary or praying a novena or reading a specific Scripture. Or maybe it's just that it feels like less of a selfish endeavor? I don't know.

That's actually one of the beautiful things about our faith - the diversity of the teachings. We have so many places to go to find God, don't we? Even in a moment like this, I find myself drawn to Him and wanting to understand where I fit in His plan. And no amount of 'fitting' means anything without understanding the origin of Christ's passion.

So a-feasting I went.You might want to go grab a cup of tea. This ain't gonna be a short read. Nor is it gonna to be fun. I guess a small part of whatever is left of me right now hopes you might also find some meaning in suffering and that the effort I put into trying to understand this will help you too. I had to at least try. So without further ado... here's what I came up with:

Feast of the Holy Cross


September 14th was the Feast of the Holy Cross. As Christians, we celebrate an instrument of death. We set aside a whole day just to celebrate the implement used to torture the Son of God. Maybe that seems strange, but given what I was doing yesterday…suffering my own body and the death of possibility…it makes perfect sense to me.

There is mystery in both infertility and the cross. Christ made His cross a source of life for the world though, and that is why we make time to celebrate it. There is nothing but the pain of death for us without the cross. We are the grain of the wood in the cross and it is very much a part of us in all that we do. So as much as I want to say that there is no meaning to be found in the void that infertility leaves in my life (and the pain that it so constantly brings), I know that all things are redeemed already. If we are all a part of the cross, that means God didn’t forget this pain. Not even this pain.
 
I am the cross and the cross is mine. When I was born, I became His through baptism. But even in that moment of cleansing, I was marked with the cross on my forehead. A symbol of death painted across the fresh, chrism-scented skin on a newborn baby…

And it doesn’t end there. I was taught how to greet the Lord every Sunday as a young child. You dip your fingers into the font outside the sanctuary and you cross yourself in the name of the Truine God. You literally reclaim your baptism with a symbol of the instrument of death by anointing yourself before you prepare to worship. And you repeat this as a preparation for every prayer you pray. Everywhere we go in our daily lives through the years of Christian Catholic life, we are putting on Christ through the cross in this motion. Do we always stop to think of why we do it though? Do we realize we are welcoming suffering with this act?

I can certainly say that I am not conscious of it 100% of the time. But I was conscious of it 100% of yesterday. I was helpless from the profound pain and truth that the cross represents. And as I sat there, feeling like all hope had been ripped from me and that all the power and strength and resolve in my weary soul had been crushed, I somehow became aware that the cross is not supposed to be a source of death to me. How can hope be dead, when Christ conquered the cross? How can there be no redemption from infertility when Christ rose from the dead so that I might live? How can I be dead inside when I’ve been redeemed by God?

In every way, it began to make me feel like the cross was my only protection from this sorrow that I felt. Do you remember the antiphon we sing at the moment of baptism? “You have put on Christ, in Him we have been baptized. Alleluia, Alleluia!”. I started to think of the cross as shining armor in that moment when for some reason this antiphon popped into my head – Christ’s redemption is literally something I could wear. Why hadn’t I thought of that before? (said the girl who has plenty of Catholic jewelry – not the least of which are crosses, medals, prayer beads…). I’m brilliant, y’all. You know, like a 5 year old who thinks they just invented something because it just occurred to them for the first time in earnest. Annnnyyyway.... Just like the priest so broadly signed a cross onto my forehead as a newborn, I started to understand the meaning in my own pathetic suffering. With that realization, I quickly make the sign of the cross and wept until I had no tears. And that took hours.

Speaking of gut wrenching sorrow…

Our Lady of Sorrows


How apropos is it that today is the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows?? Great, now I have to figure out how to connect (once again) to a mother figure and understand her pain at losing her child… while I mourn a child that I don’t have. JUST WHAT I WANTED TO DO TODAY after I’m left with the soreness in my abs (from weeping) of someone who did 1000 crunches yesterday.

Don’t get me wrong, I get that the Blessed Mother suffered intensely and grieved the brutal torture and death of her Son. And maybe it’s a good thing that I find myself basically incapable of connecting to anything but her suffering right now. Mary and I have a weird relationship. Suffering is the only thing that really helps me connect to her. It’s not for lack of praying, but it’s also a reason to keep praying. That’s where Mary and I are anyway.

So Our Lady of Sorrows. What are we celebrating? Yesterday was a celebration of an instrument of death – so I suppose today is a celebration of gut-wrenching agony. Times seven. Because that’s how the Bible rolls…

The Bible provides seven sorrows, to be specific. These are:

The dark prophecy of Simeon
The flight of the Holy Family into Egypt
The loss and discovery Jesus in the Temple
Mary meeting Jesus on His way to Calvary with the cross
Mary at the foot of Jesus on the cross during crucifixion
Mary holding Jesus after He was pierced by the lance and taken down from the cross
The burial of Jesus

It’s not just suffering Jesus’ death that this feast is celebrating. It’s so much more. It’s a veritable pain buffet that spans Jesus’ entire life. We’re reminded that motherhood *is* suffering in this feast day. And there are real examples that modern day mothers can certainly relate to in these seven examples (ask any parent who has lost a child in a store in the blink of an eye…).

But it has to be more than that. I have to believe that this is a day that highlights the essence of female suffering and that it is not about physical motherhood as much as it is about the nature of being a woman. Are we not meant to suffer? As I look up images of Our Lady of Sorrows, I notice that Mary’s heart is often depicted with swords piercing her heart. I can relate to that feeling right now. And yet I have no child in my arms. How can I relate to anything Mary suffered?

I’m also finding that in previous years, this feast was known as Our Lady of Compassion. And I think most of us know the Latin derivation for the word compassion is ‘cum’ and ‘patior’ (literally: to suffer with). So maybe I find not a mother to look at in Mary so much as I find someone to suffer with me. I don’t know. We’re not there yet. She’s the master of willing it to be done unto her according to God’s will – and I am most certainly not. I wish I could say I was, but who among us has reached that in their infertility journey – especially a couple years into it?

The one thing I do understand about Mary though…is that she joined in with the suffering. She knew it had to happen. She knew Christ would be taken from her beyond her own power, just as He was given to her. And she joined herself to that reality and suffered it with Jesus.

The only thing I can understand in this moment is that joining my suffering (the suffering that I feel in the utter emptiness and hopelessness of my own barren womb) to the suffering of Mary may be the only way that I can understand today’s feast. I'm mourning a lack of being able to suffer as a mother. And it kind of messes with my head to think of it that way right now.

I think it’s a more powerful statement to admit *I'm not there yet* on this topic as a Catholic than to pretend I have some bigger understanding of this than I do. Someone needs to hear that today and I don’t know who it is. All I know for certain is that Mary saw redemption win with her own eyes. She saw her own flesh and blood defeat death. And that inspires a kind of hope that is much, much bigger than the pains of my infertility. At least - it should.

Speaking of seeing redemption win…
 

Let Me See Redemption Win


Truth be told, when I returned from Switzerland and France in the beginning of September, already a week into the dreaded 2WW, I was overjoyed to learn that I had been crowned to be this month's Adopt-a-Blogger. We felt like it was a life preserver sent from above to help us when we needed it most. After all, it had taken all of our strength to find the courage to TTC this past cycle. Prayer and grace were what we needed to sustain us through the waiting.

I was starting to see and feel some very reliable pregnancy symptoms. I found myself thinking and hoping and praying that this was the month that IF died and I was prayed into pregnancy. And all of you, my generous friends and readers, joined me in prayer to that effect. The timing just seemed perfect. Everything seemed perfect. I was amazed that we had found the courage to TTC again after so many losses, so it was amazing to be feeling like such a huge and long-prayed-for-miracle might be coming to life all at once. DH was convinced this was it. And the symptoms kept coming. It all seemed too good to be true. 

And it was.

I'm drowning. And it's happening painfully and slowly and I can't even help myself out of it. It doesn't seem to matter how often I converse with God, or how often I meditate on the mysteries of the rosary, or how many novenas I pray, or how often I just sit in silence with Him...there are no answers being given. No directions being given on how to take a left turn away from this pain and emptiness. No encouragement on how to soldier through it. There's just this giant echoing silence. I'm worn. Even before the day begins.

Christ, I long to understand Your plan for my life. I want to understand the purpose of this suffering. And I find myself praying this week more that You would rob me of the deep longing to be a mother than anything else. If Your plan is to leave my arms empty and to never know the joy of children, then I wish you would just make that clear and take this from me. If you have already redeemed this intense suffering that I'm lost in, let me know the struggle ends. 

I know You can give me rest.
I know You can mend a heart that's frail and torn.
I know that all that's dead inside me can be reborn.
I'm just too weak and life won't let up.
I'm crying out with all I have left. My prayers are wearing thin.
I've lost my will to fight.
I'm worn.

Every single lyric in this song could have been sung by my own heart.