Friday, June 29, 2012

Blog Reader Question: Husband support

I recently had another question written in the comments on my blog. It is important to note that I am in no way an expert on these things. I am answering this question with just the limited amount of knowledge I have. It may not be worth much, but here it is anyhow. :)

I have a question for you. Sorry to bring up the infertility subject again but I don't have anyone else to ask: I've never tried to keep my feelings from my husband, I'm pretty much 'wear my heart on my sleeve' but after trying for over 2 years I feel like he's tainted to the whole baby thing. Let me rephrase that, not tainted like he doesn't want one he does, but a little callous to my emotions of wanting a child. It's super hard to be around pregnant people. I try to explain this to him and he sympathizes but I don't think he knows how to react. I know he's trying but honestly I don't feel the support and sympathy enough. I know that sounds super selfish but its true. No one else knows we're going through this so I need extra support from him b/c I feel like I'm silently suffering sometimes in public. Yes, I've told him this. My question IS: How did you try and express your feelings to your husband without sounding like a broken record or complaining? Thank you!

So first of all, I read your question to my husband. It is important for me to mention that my husband is a much more talkative guy than the average male. He will sit and talk for long periods of time (and will even initiate the topics on many occasions!) That being said, when I read this question to my husband his immediate response was, "I know exactly how that guy is feeling."

It's just the truth of it. I have yet to meet a couple that the husband was taking the infertility journey harder than the wife. I am yet to meet a couple that has the husband leave a baby shower in tears. Or a husband that has to be hit at the right moment with a pregnancy announcement. We women take infertility much harder than men. There's just no way around it.

Early on in our infertility journey, my husband and I had a conversation outside a friends' house. I remember that it was cold and there was a foot of snow on the ground. I was trying, yet again, to get him to understand why infertility hurt me so badly. I remember that this was the night he finally seemed to "get it" (at least more than he had). And I remember how I got him to see it.

I used a word picture. I painted a picture of him being told that he had to drop out of medical school (which was thing that he was, at that time, the most passionate about). I told him that he had to sit and watch his classmates finish school while he just waited to find out if they were going to let him back in to school or not. He could try to pursue other dreams while he waited, but there was no telling when the call would come that he was in or not. I told him that he may even get a call saying he was in only to receive a follow-up call that they had changed their mind. Or they may call and tell him that they were going to think about it for a few weeks before letting him know.

This worked for JB. I remember him saying that while he still didn't think I should take things as hard as I did, it made a bit more sense to him. Of course, as the years and procedures piled on top of us, John joined me more and more in our grieving process. As his desire and frustrations increased, we met more and more in the middle. In the end, he never reached my level of grief over our inability to conceive. But he definitely came closer. If you could find that thing your husband is the most passionate about and try to compare your infertility journey to him losing the ability to participate in that passion, maybe he can see it a bit more. He has to see it as you see it, somehow.

My second piece of advice is to find support aside from your husband. I, personally, suggest that people confide in a few close friends. In my case, I made the decision to "tell everyone" as my heart was so hurt and I just needed people to know.

However, if you choose to not find support "in the real world" than I really recommend you find that support online, where you can remain a bit more anonymous. I truly believe that the support I received through "girlfriends" was a key ingredient of releasing my husband from the burden of being my sole form of support. He is not able to completely relate. He is not a female. And only having one person for support is too much for anyone in any situation. They get burned out!

Here is a link to a past blog I did featuring online resources for infertility. I always especially recommend the following two links.
Hannah's Prayer, especially, was a HUGE source of encouragement to me during the years we dealt with infertility. Many of the women I am connected to online and who comment on this blog, were gals I met through this site. What I especially like about this Board is that it has "sections" of infertility. For instance, women struggling with infertility who have no children can go to a certain section for support. If you have a child and are struggling with secondary infertility, there is a separate section. And if you have been dealing with primary infertility for over four years (as I was), you could enter a long-term primary infertility section. There are also sections for adoption and pregnancy and multiples and other things that may occur after your journey moves into another direction.

I think you will find that support from other women will be a key ingredient in your husband not feeling overwhelmed or frustrated by how often you want to talk about things. If something hurt me or was hard on me, I would confide in a friend online or a friend in the real world. I then did not need my husband to provide me with the support I had already received. It was amazingly helpful.

Feel free to email me personally (wendi@wendkitsteiner.com) if you just need one person to talk to. Sometimes one person is all it takes. I hope this helps a bit.

Friday, June 22, 2012

How Comforters are Created

Sunday evening, my friend Becky (two failed IVF's before moving onto adoption) joined our family and Isaac's birth grandmother, Joni, for dinner. As dinner concluded, the three of us gals found ourselves sitting around the dinner table talking about infertility and pregnancy loss. Both Joan, Becky, and I have each travelled (and are travelling) a lengthy and hard road to parenthood. It was wonderful to be able to talk with two kindred spirits about a topic so close to my heart.

Joan had shared a devotional passage with me from one of Charles Stanley's publications early on in her visit to Eglin. I have found many scriptures that have brought me comfort in the course of our journey to parenthood, but I don't remember ever having read this scripture:

2 Cor 1:3-4 "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God."

How have I missed these verses for all these years?!

I can vividly remember walking out of a public restroom stall during an especially painful time of our infertility journey. I don't remember exactly where I was or exactly which bad news we had just received. But I do remember shutting that bathroom stall door, putting my face in my hands, and sobbing. I remember telling the Lord, "That's it! That's enough pain! I now feel like I have experienced enough pain to understand it and provide understanding to others."

Looking back, I can now see that I didn't possibly have enough understanding to relate to the plight of others on this journey. God needed me to have more. He needed me to really go into the valley so that I could truly understand the hurt people feel when they are there. Being in the valley is horrible. It hurts so badly. But he needed me to be there so I could understand what it felt like.

That pain has allowed me not only to be there for new friends like Becky as they travel the road we just travelled. It is a pain that transcends infertility and moves into many other realms. I remember the divorce of another dear friend. As I sat in my living room crying with her, I remember feeling like I understood exactly what it felt like to have a dream ripped out from underneath you. She had so many thoughts and plans and hopes for her life. What did she do with those dreams that would never come true? I didn't understand what divorce felt like. But I did understand what the loss of a dream and the grief that accompanies that loss feels like. That I understood.

Here is the devotional in its entirety. I pray it ministers to you as it has to me.

Job asked a challenging question in his time of suffering: "Shall we indeed accept good from God and not accept adversity?" (Job 2:10). Even hardship has a place in the Lord's plan.

During a particularly painful time in my life, I decided that I ought to glean something from my distress. That decision allowed the Lord to open up a well of compassion in my heart that I often dip from to comfort those facing similar trials.

I found great solace in Paul's words about God, who "comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction" (2 Cor 1:4). Think about the kind of people you seek out when you feel hurt. You want someone who has felt your pain, right? A person who's walked the path we find ourselves on can understand our suffering and provide wise counsel. According to the apostle, passing through a "valley experience" prepares us to be a blessing and encouragement to those who must go through something similar later. What's required is that we accept the adversity He has placed in our way and choose to learn from the situation.

God is the Lord and Master of our life, and He therefore has the right to use us as comforters and encouragers to those in our sphere of influence. As His servants, we must be willing to receive whatever training is necessary to complete His will, even when it hurts. Do not waste your suffering! Instead, use it to bring glory to the Lord.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Hallmark Rejects (infertility-style)

I stole these from another blog I read: Life and Love in the Petri Dish. These are not my personal property. They just made me smile.

This picture (above) really resonated with me. Even today, with two biological children, I find that hearing someone is pregnant comes at me from two sides. Some are wholehearted. I am genuinely happy. But others are just tinged with envy. I can't help but thinking, "Why couldn't it be that easy for everyone?" or "Why did I have to travel such a difficult road?" I also can do this when people have an easy delivery. Why did I have to get so sick and storknest in Germany and have an appendicitis while pregnant? But all of these thoughts are just feeling "woe is me!" I have watched the Lord healing my heart more and more and I am now able to be genuinely happy for others. I also know that my story can cause that for other people too. Ex. why couldn't I get pregnant, twice, naturally?
And here are a few others that just made smile. "Hallmark Rejects" as Mo calls them on her blog.