Announcements

This week I received three different pieces of amazing news. Three women that I have stood along side from the very beginning of their infertility journey received news that was finally not "no."

One friend, who had found out she was infertile long before she met her husband, found out that she was in fact pregnant this week after a final try with IVF. She and I met in Minnesota through the infertility Support Group I helped start. 

Another friend, a childhood friend that I have watched face years of disappointment and negative attempts, is expecting a child after many failed attempts with IVF. 

And a third, a woman walked through infertility with me in Minnesota, was left with no choice but to have a hysterectomy a year ago. And this week she received news that the adorable little toddler they have been fostering for many months, will in fact be eligible for them to adopt. 

Celebrations.

And yet, while some celebrate, others remain waiting. Others received not so good news. I have a friend waiting to start IVF again after many fails. Another childhood friend was told that the little boy she had been fostering will, in fact, not be staying with her. And a third friend is still waiting for a birth mother to pick them. 

I don't need to call out their names. They know who they are.

A picture of me before heading in for one of my four failed attempts with IVF in Minnesota.

I recently stumbled upon a letter from one infertile woman to another. It was written for Mother's Day, but I wanted to share a few excerpts from it now in hopes that if you find yourself on the other side of the positive news today, you feel encouraged. 

To my Friends who find themselves childless on yet another Mother’s Day:

Take a deep breath. I understand and I promise you’ll survive. Well, there was one year I thought I might not make it, but I pulled myself out of the pit and I lived to see another day. If I can do it, you can too!

I know, you’re getting older. I am too. It seems like the biological clock has started ticking twice as fast as it used to. You have finally realized that when/if you have kids, you’ll be the “older parent.” The one that people mistake for the grandma! Well sister, I hope I’m standing right there next to you! I hope we both get to attend our child’s wedding, even if we are both retired!

On Mother’s Day I feel like a little girl jumping up and down and waving my arms—“God I’m over here. Pick me! I want to be chosen too! I know I won’t be a perfect parent, but I’ll give it my best shot.” Do you feel left behind, like you’re the one who will get picked last—or not at all?

Remember our identity is not “Infertile,” it is, “Beloved Daughter of the King.” Our identity is not found in what we can or cannot accomplish, it is found in the work of Jesus Christ on the cross.  

Reader Question on the "Do you have kids" question

I love reading your blog and I have a question I'd like you to answer:  We meet a lot of new people, and during introductions eventually the question of "Do you have kids?" comes up.  What is the right thing to say when your question is answered with a "No." Is there even a right thing to say?  I know there are all kinds of wrong things but how do I fill that awkward silence with something positive or at least something kind?  And what do I say when I find out about secondary infertility?  Most of the time I don't say anything because I really don't want to say anything hurtful. But I'm at a complete loss for what would bring hope/encouragement to the woman/couple. Thanks so much for opening my eyes about infertility and being an encouragement to those women who are going through this and even those who aren't.  Keep up the good work!

Primary Infertility
The quick answer: Avoid the question. It can be a little tricky, but it is really the best way. Usually, if someone has kids, they will provide this information to you. Or, if they don't, you can probably figure out another way to get it (i.e., ask someone they know or check their Facebook etc.) While it can be a difficult question to avoid, even for a veteran IF'er (infertility-woman) like me, make yourself NOT ask it. Think of other things you can talk about and ask about as best you can.

Exception: If the person asks you the question first, then it is sort of "expected" that you ask it back. It is my opinion that if they ask you, you can ask it back. It's only fair and they have to know that that is how it is going to go.

One blog reader shared that she always found the question, "Tell me about your family," made her a lot more comfortable. It is more open-ended and offers different interpretations. I loved her suggestion and definitely wanted to make note of it here.

[A sidenote: If you have lived overseas, you will quickly notice that people don't ask the very personal questions like Americans do nearly as readily. They don't often ask about jobs or kids or things like that. I've tried to take a lesson from them and find other things we can talk about.]

If the question does come out and you are met by awkward silence or by a "no" that appears to be painful, my advice is to take the fault for it. Say something like it, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that. I have a few friends dealing with infertility and they have all lectured me to avoid that question." 

Secondary Infertility
As for secondary infertility, this is not as clean cut, and it is why secondary infertility can be even more painful than primary infertility. If a mother is out with her child and attending mothers' functions, mom questions are sort of "fair game." I still, however, try to avoid the, "Are you going to have another?" question. Just don't ask it. You'll want to ask it, but chances are, you can find out the information from someone else, or, if you get to be very good friends, it will ultimately come up. 

If it comes up and it is painful, tell her that you have been reading a blog that is educating you. Instead of trying to fix it, say something like, "That really stinks. I'm going to be praying for you." You may also have the opportunity to ask for her input as to how you can make it better. "I know we hang out with a lot of women popping out babies like crazy. Is there any way I can help pad those announcements for you?" I also would always provide that woman a knowing glance or say something like, "I know this is hard," when yet another friend announced their pregnancy. Sending a message on Facebook when there has been another announcement, anything to let her know you are praying and thinking of her and acknowledging her pain is helpful.

Have a comment or question about this topic? I'd love to hear from you -- whichever side of infertility you may be on.

A Marriage Surrival Kit

The right tools can make all the difference

By: John and Sylvia Van Regenmorter

Many couples who experience infertility discover that their marriage is on a survival mission -- and it's not just an exercise! How can you and your spouse preserve your relationship -- and even improve it -- during this difficult time?

Click the link above to read some great tips on surviving the difficult road of infertility.

Share Each Other's Burdens

Clear here to read a great article by Kristin Meyer discussing secondary infertility.

How to announce a pregnancy

I have received so many questions like this, I have lost count.

How do I tell my ___ , who has been dealing with infertility for years, that I am pregnant?

Fill in the blank with who that is. Sister. Best friend. Aunt. Niece. Whatever.

My answer is very simple.

1. Firstly, it is helpful if you can talk to the person prior to finding out if you are pregnant. If it ever comes up in conversation prior to you knowing you are pregnant, ask them how they would want to be told.
2. If you have not done this, the general rule is do not tell the person in person. A very nice card or email allows them to digest this news privately. 
3. If you are concerned that this may not be the right way for your loved one, consider sending the husband an email and asking him his opinion. Generally, while husbands are effected by infertility, the pregnancy announcements do not impact them the same way. The husband can either tell you how to tell his wife, or he can tell her himself.
4. Remember that these announcements are a reminder. The woman feels as if she is being passed or even lapped. She wants to be a mom so bad, and she is jealous. These feelings often make her feel guilty for feeling that way, but she cannot control the emotions. She knows she should be happy for you, but her own pain trumps that emotion. Telling her via email or card allows her to react and prepare properly.
5. If you wanted to make a public announcement, at a party or family function for example, and it would be inappropriate to leave this woman out of this group, send an email or card first and mention what you plan to do and that you want her to be prepared.
6. If this woman is very close to you (like a sister) consider changing the way you would tell your family out of respect for her. 
7. Once the woman knows, if you need guidance, ask her. Ask her if she'd like to be left out of Facebook posts about your pregnancy. Invite her to your baby shower but send a note or tell her that you completely understand if she doesn't await to go.
8. Remember that you don't have to completely understand why your loved one is impacted by this so much (those not dealing with infertility just cannot relate completely) to be kind.

Question? Comments? Please email me at wendi@wendikitsteiner.com or leave a comment on this post.

How to help your friend through infertility

I often get emails from blog readers asking me questions. The question I get the most, a prevailing question if you will, is how can they help a friend who is struggling with infertility.

One of my more popular posts is this one: What not to say to your infertile friend. It details what types of things are helpful or hurtful as you help your friend navigate this difficult journey.

Another popular post I wrote was a letter to a grieving friend. I titled it: To My Grieving Friend.

There is always a person (or more) that I am "currently" supporting in infertility. As a friend has their journey end (either because of a successful treatment or because they decided to stop treatments), another one "pops up" that I start corresponding with -- either in person or via technology.

I will tell you that standing alongside these women, even for me, someone who knows the journey firsthand, is never easy. It is painful for me. It hurts me to see them hurting. It stresses me out to wait for results with them. It angers me when results are negative. (But it really excites me when the results are awesome!)

It also helps me see how wonderful and strong people who stood alongside me were. Wow! It takes a lot of courage to support someone who is in deep pain.

I recently read an article detailing how a couple can survive the pain of repeat miscarriages. While written for couples and miscarriage, I really thought the suggestions were incredibly applicable to anyone standing alongside someone in grief. Some of the tips included:

• Hug. A lot. A full embrace with the your favorite person in the world can help heal in incredible ways. Don’t avoid intimacy, pursue it. Sit close. Sleep closer. Don’t be away from each other for extended periods of time.
• Talk. We talk about our pain, our anger, and our frustrations. We invite our close friends into our conversations and they patiently listen without unloading their suggestions. We also talk about the weather, the Red Sox, and what’s for dinner. Be sure to continue life in increments you can handle.
• Cry. Together. Missy has an amazing way of comforting me by crying with me. She’s silent and she’s present. Our moments of weakness are often perfectly matched in strength by the other, enabling us to carry each other through.
• Pray. It can be silent. It can be quiet. It can be screamed at the top of your lungs. Talk with the God who understands the loss of a child. Ask that He grant you the peace that surpasses all understanding.

The author of this article said something else that was incredibly powerful. He wrote: "I know it’s impossible for a marriage which has suffered loss to pass through unchanged. And I’ve been told the couple has a choice: they can let the trial of fire either define them or refine them."

I so agree. Both for a person and a couple, one must decide how this experience will define their life.

In 2007, during the early days of our intended adoption from China, I wrote a post entitled: Not bitter ... Not broken. I wrote:

The subject of "bitterness" has come up in recent weeks in numerous conversations I have had regarding infertility and grief. Even today, bitterness is my constant enemy. I am very careful not to allow myself to make calloused comments or hateful statements. Phrases like, "I'll never get pregnant. What am I doing wrong? Why can't it be my turn? That's so unfair etc. etc." These phrases just have to be eliminated from my vocabulary. John helps me in this. Early on in my infertility journey I had an image of myself at my own funeral. I realized that the eulogy could go two ways. Either everyone would say, "You know, from the moment she found out she was barren, that woman became the most bitter, biting old hag I ever met ..." Or, people could say, "You know, even though she fought that infertility crud, she never let it get the best of her." I wanted the latter! I wanted to be happy.

As a supportive friend, you are going to see your friend reach a crossroads. They must decide, at some point, that they will either (a) let this experience break them and bitter them OR (b) let this experience make them stronger and better both as a person and a couple.

I chose BETTER over BROKEN. I chose BIGGER over BITTER.

Encourage your friend to use this experience for good. Explain to them how you, watching from the outside, have been changed by their pain, and how it is helping you in your own life. The truth is: you can't make this better for them.  Love them. Let them grieve. And grieve with them.

My Testimony

I received an email from a friend going through infertility treatments right now. I often have many women that I am connected with via Hannah's Prayer, email, or in-person. This friend had read these words in a devotional and she shared it with me. I was so blessed to read these words. I often wonder who I am right now. What is my mission? I don't feel like I really fit in with mom groups. I feel like I will always be slightly different. And yet, obviously, I am no longer a part of infertility cycles, technically speaking. This email from my friend reminded me that my testimony is part of who I am. Infertility and adoption are my passions. They always will be.
*****

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God." 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Have you ever read a really good book? I mean a really good book? One that you can’t put down? You envision what every character looks like, what they sound like when they speak, and even how they walk. You feel like you know them! When you get so engrossed in the story you block the outside work and immerse yourself in the story line. There’s nothing quite like a really good book!
Did you know you are an author? That’s right! Sign your name at the bottom of the page, for you, my friend, are a writer! What are you writing? You’re writing your testimony.

Infertility can really take a toll on your life. It can consume every waking moment, every thought, every interaction. You may find that you are surviving trials that you never would have imagined you were strong enough to conquer. How has God worked in your life? How is God working? Who are the characters in your saga--people who have said really stupid things, or those who wrap their arms around you and understand? Have you learned things about God through your battle with infertility that you never had even considered before? Maybe you found yourself searching Scriptures for answers--and actually found them! Infertile couples have to figure out new ways to communicate and make decisions. Who knew when you stood at that altar that day that you’d have to make decisions like how many embryos to freeze or where the money would come from for all your medications? So many twists and turns in the plot!

Infertility changes you. When you’re in the midst of the battle you cannot see how you are better for it. It helps when someone who has been there understands what you feel, and shares with you how they coped and survived. Do you realize you can be that someone to another person? One day, infertility will be a part of your past, and not your every waking moment. You’re learning things now in infertility’s classroom that you never even considered before. Every trial you face, every month you survive, you are writing your testimony. Every time you pick yourself up and face another month, you’ve written another part of your testimony. You pray and ask God to help you--and He does. There’s another chapter. Another story to tell of how God provided again.

Someone needs to read your story. Someone somewhere is going to need to hear how she is not alone in her battle, and that someone with a similar struggle has survived. You may be in the midst of your fight today, but one day, your story can encourage someone else. Maybe you can see how, maybe not yet. But the day will come when someone new to infertility will look to you for answers. Your story may just be what gets them through that month, or that day.

When you share your story of how God sustained you through trials, you are lining up beautifully with Scripture. Comforting someone else with the comfort you received. Telling someone else, “I know it’s hard. This is what helped me,” is being the hand of Jesus extended.

Perhaps your story is not ready yet. It will be. One day, God can use your story to heal the wounds of someone else. Maybe today, you need the healing. Wherever you find yourself, know that God is working and moving. And writing your testimony with you.

'Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus

There was a point in my life that I would sing this hymn ,and boom it with all my heart (or boom it quietly with all my heart as not to ruin it for those around me) Trust Jesus? Of course I trusted Jesus. Who wouldn’t?

And all my life, I thought I did trust in the Lord. The Lord was great! He had given me two loving parents, a loving spouse, a roof over my head, a Christian school to attend, athletic abilities that paid for college, fantastic friends, great churches, good health, every job I had applied for. Nothing bad had ever really happened to me.
Of course I trusted Him.

The fact is, trust is easy when your life is going as planned. But when life isn’t going the way you drew it up? How do you trust him then? Trust Him? Well, sort of. I mean, I want to trust Him, but why is He choosing to do things this way? Why doesn't He do them my way? Why did He allow that to happen? He defeated sin.

Infertility shook my trust to the core.

In my case, it was looking around me and questioning all the people God had given a child to instead of giving one to me. Recently it was a little Brazilian baby thrown in the river in a plastic bag. (She survived and people were soon lining up to adopt her.) Mothers having abortions. Teenage mothers. Abusive parents. "Wait!" I screamed at the TV or at the Lord. "Here I am! Give me those babies! Bless me with a pregnancy! I want those children!" Those were moments when I looked to the Lord and said, "Lord, I'm not sure I do trust You. Do you know what you are doing?"

Two and a half years into my infertility journey, a new woman joined us one evening for our quarterly support group meeting. As we listened to her voice her trust issues out loud, another woman with twins from embryo adoption spoke up. "I know what God was thinking. If I wouldn't have travelled the road I traveled, I wouldn't have these two boys -- and these are my boys."

As I was driving home that night, I had the moment I had wanted since this battle had begun. I somehow, finally, trusted the Lord. Or at least understood what that meant. I have been trying so hard -- every step of this journey, but that night I could honestly sing this song and mean it. I realized that while the Lord didn't cause this pain, he was using it every day.

Romans 8:28-31 says: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to HIS purpose." (NIV) Wait a minute! If not for infertility, I wouldn't have met this woman that night. If my friend with the twins hadn't hadn’t struggled to conceive, she wouldn't have her twins. If not for infertility, what would my faith be?

I don't think, prior to infertility, I would be able to understand when a friend told me they were questioning their faith or grieving a disappointment -- whatever it may be. But now, because of infertility, I understand.
Wendi, trust Me. I've got your best interest in mind. I didn't cause this, but I will use this in your life. When you look back, you will understand, either on earth or in heaven, why things happened the way they did. Trust Me.

Two and a half more years would pass. Five years and more infertility treatments than one person should ever attempt. I am not saying that during that time I did not waver again in my faith or in my trust. I did. Often. But I was able to remember that no matter how my story played out, the Lord had my soul -- my future -- in the palm of my hand. And I could trust that.

What would I tell infertile me?

I got an email from a friend dealing with infertility today. She asked me a question.

"If you could go back in time and tell infertile Wendi one thing, what would it be?"

It's funny she asked that. It's a question I've thought about many times. And I've formulated many different answers.

But here's the one that resonates most within me.

I would tell myself to try my hardest to enjoy my life. To try to embrace where I am at currently instead of wishing the months and years to speed ahead until our next treatment or the next holiday that maybe I would be a mom. I would tell myself to sleep in as often as I could. I would tell myself to take more naps. Lie in bed and watch movies and don't get up just for the sheer relaxation of lying around Wendi! I would tell myself to go on as many dates with my husband as I could. Go for runs whenever you want Wendi. Take long walks in the park for no reason at all. Travel. Travel. Travel some more. Volunteer. Embrace your hobbies. Sit on the kitchen counter and drink a coke and stay up way too late talking with a girlfriend. Don't worry so much about becoming a mom. Try to remember that God doesn't promise us tomorrow. Children won't solve your fears of being alone Wendi. And then travel some more gosh darn it!

There's more. But you get the general idea.

I think we have this idea that if we "just get married" or if we "just have kids" or if we "just get this job" or if we "could just pay off this debt" or ... well, the list could go on and on, that then things will be perfect.

But they won't. We will never arrive. There will always be something we are seeking. There will always be sadness and disappointments. Only a relationship with our Heavenly Father can bring us the complete peace we think a certain thing will.

When we pulled away from the hospital with little two-day-old Isaac strapped into his car seat on May 9, 2008 ... with the lawyer and nurse waving at us and feeling like we had no idea what we were doing ... I realized that I was now, nearly officially, a mom. (His five month court hearing would solidify it.) But I didn't really feel different. Something could happen to Isaac the next day. Something could happen to all of us on the way home. Isaac was the child we always hoped to have. But he was not the answer to the hole in our life we often try to fill with things other than Christ.

I pray for those of you today praying for answer to your prayers. For many of you it is a child. For others of you it is something else. A spouse. A job. Reconciliation.

Whatever it is, I hope I can encourage you with three main tidbits of hope:

1. Embrace, as best you can, where you are today.
2. Believe that miracles are possible.
3. Remember that only Christ will bring you the peace you seek.

I always seem to have a group of about 5-10 women in my life that are in my "infertility group" of the moment. Women that I am watching walk the walk I walked just a few years ago. Please know that you are at the forefront of my mind all the time. Really. I am thinking of you by name while I write this. When I see you. When I email you. When I talk to you. I am thinking of you. I am wanting to fix it. And I am praying for the answer to your prayer.

Growing thru Grief

Whenever I have a free (rare) moment, I continue to work on making my blog into a book that I can get a hard copy of. This means reading a lot of past entries. I am still back on the first years of my blog: 2005-2006.

How ironic is it that on that day, November 26, 2010, I stumbled upon an entry from November 26, 2006? Four years to the day.

We had just suffered another failed IVF. I don't even remember which number that one was. And I had just been forced, emotionally, to leave a church service that was especially painful. After sobbing in a Target parking lot with my husband who was helpless to stop my pain or his, I went home and read this passage from a tiny little book I had that comforted me during those days: Good Grief.

Back then, four years ago to the day, I was inspired by the preface of the book. Now I look back and compare what I read then to what I feel now, on the "other side" of that valley.

• We come out of our grief experience at a slightly higher level of maturity than before. Me? More mature! Absolutely. I am a better parent. I am a better wife. I am a more compassionate individual. I grew in leaps and bounds during that long and dark five years of my life. I wouldn't use the word "slightly." I grew incredibly. I will never look at life the same. I will never assume there is not someone hurting. I don't take my kids for granted. I understand the miracle that life is.
• We come out of our grief as deeper persons because we have been down in the depths of despair and know what it is like. Prior to dealing with infertility, I never understood why people questioned their faith. I struggled to recognize why someone could be mad at God. I didn't understand pain. I had a "just-world" mentality. Today I have a mentality that understands that sometimes life doesn't follow the path we thought it would. The question is: what do we plan to do with the course our life takes?
• We come out of it stronger, for we have had to learn how to use our spiritual muscles to climb the rugged mountain trails. You can't live through grief and not come out of it stronger. Not getting what you want forces you to truly rely on the Lord. I often say that while on our 2007 mission trip to Nigeria I became inspired to see how these people lived their faith. I realized that they lived their faith because faith was all they had to live. We, in America, take so much for granted. We have so much and we demand so much. When all you have is God by having what you want pulled out from under you, you became a stronger person. Spiritually e
• We come out of it better able to help others. We have walked through the valley of the shadow of grief. We can understand. In the midst of our infertility journey, I stood by a close friend during her divorce and realized that I could relate to her pain because I had experienced my own loss. I knew what the depths felt like and knew how to be in the depths with someone else.

As always, I have about a half dozen women in my life right now that I am watching travel the infertile road. I am so sorry you are on this road. I pray that in the midst of this grief, you see the goodness. You see the growth. You see what I couldn't see until now, four years later. Bless you friends.

And thank you those of you who stood along side me during those days of grief. For those of you who have been with me for the entirety of my journey, would you mind sharing what you learned watching me go through this journey in the comments? Or maybe just a memory from my journey? I'm sure it would minister to me and the people who read this entry with grief present at this moment.

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.

How to help your infertile friend

Many of you have asked me my opinion on what you should or shouldn't say to someone struggling with infertility. I am speaking more to women. While this is a couple's issue, this is something that usually affects women much more than men.

So here is my short and sweet guide. If you follow these rules, you won't go wrong!

THE BASICS:

A couple will eventually resolve the infertility problem in one of three ways:

• #1 They will eventually conceive a baby.
• #2 They will stop the infertility treatments and choose to live without children.
• #3 They will find an alternative way to parent, such as by adopting a child or becoming a foster parent.

It is important that you understand that each of these three "routes" offers excitement, pain, and heartbreak in their own way. I have friends who have chosen or been forced down each of these different paths. It is important that you don't press them down any of these roads. Number 1 is racked with worry and fears after the amount of time and money invested. Numbers 2 and 3 are very difficult choices and usually not the first option.

Here are some things you should NOT say to them while you are struggling. Now if you have said any of these to someone, don't feel bad. One of my dear friends was struggling with infertility before I was diagnosed. Looking back, I said every one of these things to her. I have apologized, but she understands that I meant well. I understand that people mean well. However, the more educated you are, the better.

• Don't tell them to relax. This is called the "R" word in infertile circles. This is very rarely the problem for infertile people. While stress can be a problem, it is often not the issue for people who publicize their infertility journey. Stress is usually an issue that is quickly rectified.
• Don't minimize the problem or say there are worse things that can happen. Don't say this really isn't a big deal or shouldn't bother them that much. Of course there are worse things that can happen. Any life-changing event could be worse, but it doesn't change how much it hurts.
• Don't say they aren't meant to be parents. Well meaning Christians often say this trying to imply God's will is sovereign. Faith and God's presence is a huge issue for infertile women -- let them deal with this on their own or with a Christian counselor.
• Don't ask why they aren't trying IVF. IVF is very expensive with a lot of ethical considerations. It isn't an "easy" decision.
• Don't play doctor. Don't give medical advice unless you really know what you are talking about.
• Don't be crude. This should be obvious. Making jokes about "Do you need a lesson?" is just mean.
• Be tender when making a pregnancy announcement.The general rule here is to not make your announcement in a public place with your infertile friend in attendance. Instead send them a card or an email and allow them to digest it privately first. Or sometimes you can tell the husband and ask them to let the wife know. Remember that they are happy for you but they are jealous for their own frustrations.
• Don't complain about your pregnancy or your children. Obviously there are things to complain about but it is a wise move to find someone else to confide in with these problems.
• Don't push adoption (yet). The general rule is to not bring this up unless they bring it up first. This is a very wonderful and tender topic and when they are ready, they will share. Why do most people not adopt and have genetic children? Because biological children is the primary choice for most people. Your friend is no different in this desire.
• Don't start any story with ... "I know someone..." or "I had a friend who..." These stories often feature the exception, not the rule. The biggest culprits: "I know who a friend who went on a vacation and then had a baby", and "I know who friend who got pregnant right after they adopted." These cause chills down an infertile women's spine.
• Let them know that you care. Cards or caring acts are appreciated.
• Remember them on Mother's Day. Church is very painful on Mother's Day when you are infertile. John and I didn't go. We planned a fun day away from all the mother's with flowers. You can simply send a nice card that you are remembering them on that day like you would the anniversary of a loss. 
• Don't tell them that if they adopt, they will probably become pregnant. The fact is that very few couples conceive after adoption.
• Support their decision to stop treatments. Encourage them in whatever direction they choose. This is a personal decision. If they want advice, they'll ask.

If your friend (or an acquaintance) brings up their infertility to you, they are wanting to talk to to you about it. From that point on, the conversation is probably welcome. Start off by saying, "If you don't want to talk about it, it's okay, but how is everything going?" Most of the time, once a couple decides to share, a woman wants to talk about it.

Okay, so that's a lot of things NOT to do. But what should you do:

• Pray for them.
• Remember their "calendar" and send an email or card on a big day.
• Put them in touch with other women "in their situation". (Ask them if they want to be contacted or do the contacting.)
• Provide encouragement for them to seek support. A great online support group is: www.hannahsprayer.org. 
• Attend Support Group meetings with them if they would find this helpful.
• Invite them to all events but give them the option to "opt" out of events that might be painful (baby showers, baptisms, etc.)
• Invite them to special child-free events whenever possible.
• Give them poems or even books that you think might be helpful -- try to have another infertile friend give a "stamp" of approval on the book. Don't have a friend? I'll be your friend. Email me at: flakymn@hotmail.com. 
• Offer to go to appointments with them if their husband is unavailable. 
• Recognize that not being able to have a child is the loss of a dream. It is the same as a single person who wants to get married not finding "the one" or an athlete having a career-ending injury. It's a loss. They will move through stages of grief (ups and downs) including a time when they question their faith. However, they will cycle through this with love and prayer.
• Read books that will help you understand the infertile woman's heart. I strongly recommend Water from the Rock to understand the grief process infertile women go through.

Held

I am so excited to have my second piece on the Hannah's Prayer Blog: Held* Please hop over and visit by clicking here. If you missed it, here is the link to the previous piece I had featured on their website. As most of you know, infertility and adoption are my passions, and I am so blessed to be a part of this ministry.

*Held is a blogging outreach of Hannah's Prayer Ministries* and is here to offer support and encouragement to families seeking peace through infertility, pregnancy/infant death or adoption loss, and to provide a resource for our extended families, friends, church communities and larger support networks. If you are a married Christian woman dealing with the heartache of any of these fertility challenges, we also invite you to join us on the Hannah's Prayer Community Forums.

My testimony

I received an email from a friend going through infertility treatments right now. I often have many women that I am connected with via Hannah's Prayer, email, or in-person. This friend had read these words in a devotional and she shared it with me. I was so blessed to read these words. I often wonder who I am right now. What is my mission? I don't feel like I really fit in with mom groups. I feel like I will always be slightly different. And yet, obviously, I am no longer a part of infertility cycles, technically speaking. This email from my friend reminded me that my testimony is part of who I am. Infertility and adoption are my passions. They always will be. Just because I am a mom now doesn't change that. Thanks friend!
*****
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God." 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Have you ever read a really good book? I mean a really good book? One that you can’t put down? You envision what every character looks like, what they sound like when they speak, and even how they walk. You feel like you know them! When you get so engrossed in the story you block the outside work and immerse yourself in the story line. There’s nothing quite like a really good book!
Did you know you are an author? That’s right! Sign your name at the bottom of the page, for you, my friend, are a writer! What are you writing? You’re writing your testimony.
Infertility can really take a toll on your life. It can consume every waking moment, every thought, every interaction. You may find that you are surviving trials that you never would have imagined you were strong enough to conquer. How has God worked in your life? How is God working? Who are the characters in your saga--people who have said really stupid things, or those who wrap their arms around you and understand? Have you learned things about God through your battle with infertility that you never had even considered before? Maybe you found yourself searching Scriptures for answers--and actually found them! Infertile couples have to figure out new ways to communicate and make decisions. Who knew when you stood at that altar that day that you’d have to make decisions like how many embryos to freeze or where the money would come from for all your medications? So many twists and turns in the plot!
Infertility changes you. When you’re in the midst of the battle you cannot see how you are better for it. It helps when someone who has been there understands what you feel, and shares with you how they coped and survived. Do you realize you can be that someone to another person? One day, infertility will be a part of your past, and not your every waking moment. You’re learning things now in infertility’s classroom that you never even considered before. Every trial you face, every month you survive, you are writing your testimony. Every time you pick yourself up and face another month, you’ve written another part of your testimony. You pray and ask God to help you--and He does. There’s another chapter. Another story to tell of how God provided again.

Someone needs to read your story. Someone somewhere is going to need to hear how she is not alone in her battle, and that someone with a similar struggle has survived. You may be in the midst of your fight today, but one day, your story can encourage someone else. Maybe you can see how, maybe not yet. But the day will come when someone new to infertility will look to you for answers. Your story may just be what gets them through that month, or that day.

When you share your story of how God sustained you through trials, you are lining up beautifully with Scripture. Comforting someone else with the comfort you received. Telling someone else, “I know it’s hard. This is what helped me,” is being the hand of Jesus extended.

Perhaps your story is not ready yet. It will be. One day, God can use your story to heal the wounds of someone else. Maybe today, you need the healing. Wherever you find yourself, know that God is working and moving. And writing your testimony with you.

I'm sorry

I'm sorry. I'm sorry to my close friends who have faced disappointment during the last few weeks. I had a friend miscarry. I had another friend have a failed IVF. I have another friend who is dealing with a costly and frustrating infertility cycle. I have another friend who had stopped all infertility treatments after another failed IVF. And those are just a few. There are so many more.

I am so blessed by these women who have entrusted their journeys to me. Thank you for allowing you to travel along with you. I know you feel that I am helping you, but I cannot begin to tell you how much meaning it has given to my five years of infertility and the incredible pain that it brought with it. I have feel that it has purpose. Thank you for that.

Please pray for those around you hurting right now. This time of year can be especially difficult on couples yearning for children. On those waiting for that perfect someone. On those grieving the loss of someone they love. Please remember them during the next few weeks. Pray for them. And love them.

If you have a moment ...

. . . pop over to Becky's blog. Today would have been the due date of their little Johannah who went home to Jesus way too early. My heart aches for John & Becky today, and I'm sure she'd love to hear that people everywhere are praying for them.

Please pray for my friends

I have three different friends who are on my mind today. They know who they are. They are all struggling with totally different aspects of the infertility journey: medical complications, early desires for children, considering moving to adoption . . .

All of these have such emotional baggage attached to them. All of them hurt so badly. All of them are things I so want to fix but have no power over. I know prayer works. But when all I can do is pray, sometimes I am left feeling so helpless. I want to fix it. I don't want them to hurt like I did for five years. I feel guilty that I have two boys. Why do I have two boys and they have none? Why can't the world just be fair?

If you think of it, please say a prayer for my three friends today. I won't share their names, but trust me in that they covet your prayers immensely. Pray for peace. Pray for direction. Pray for strength. Pray for wisdom. Pray for guidance. Pray for comfort. And pray that the Lord gives them the desire of their heart: a child to join their loving family.

If you could stop, right now, while you are reading this, and spend thirty seconds in prayer for these three women and the many other women reading this blog who are with them on this difficult journey, I would greatly appreciate it. I am realizing that my heart will never be far away from this topic. It is so close to my soul and I feel it so deeply despite the fact that my journey is not nearly as intense as it once was.

Thanks everyone.

From the Funky Monkey

I have been so blessed by the people I have met through our journey to add children to our lives. I have also been blessed by the people I have never met.

Starting this blog was the best thing I ever did in this infertility journey. If no one else ever reads it, I will still never regret that I started writing during our final rounds of IUI and the beginning of IVF. It has been such a source of healing to me -- a journal I am encouraged to write in everyday -- not only for people who expect to see a post but for myself and for JB.

Obviously, not every feeling I have makes its way onto the pages of this blog. Believe it or not, despite how transparent I am, there are some emotions that we keep to ourselves. There are some memories that we keep to ourselves. JB often jokes that if "it doesn't end up on the blog, we believe it didn't happen." That isn't true of course, but I've learned that there are many details of life that don't need to be recalled verbatim. However, enough of my recollections spill off the keyboard and onto the screen to allow me to look back myself and remember the pain and realize that it doesn't hurt that bad anymore -- at least not all the time.

But some weeks are easier than others. This has not been one of the "easier" weeks. Some weeks I don't feel infertile. Some weeks, like this one, I do.

Funky is actually "Andi." She and I have never met. Our stories are very different, and yet in our hearts, we are kindred souls. Andi is now a mom to a beautiful Jonathan Kai after two miscarriages and a paused Chinese adoption. Andi understands what it is like to have a quiet home and to dream of the laughter of children.

Andi has often told me that I have helped her with my words. But Andi has often helped me as well -- through a gift she sends by snail mail, an email, or the words she puts on her own blog.

This past week, Andi's post: "Land of Fine" really ministered to me.

She wrote:

When you grieve the death of a loved one, you intellectually know in time, the pain will lessen. You know that you won't cry forever. You know that someday you'll be able to just remember the good memories of that person's life. But if someone were to come up to you today and say, "Don't worry...things will be fine" or "You'll be fine", what true comfort do those words bring in the midst of grief? They don't. Truth is, sometimes they compound the grief because the person saying it is ignoring the fact that right now, things are NOT fine. As if you should immediately be over the loss. What those people may not understand is that you have to wade through the grief of the moment before you can get to Fine. It's there, but you aren't there yet. Grief is here now, today, right in front you. But Fine is a foreign land waaaay over there and to make things harder, there is a huge chasm between the two. How do you get from the Land of Grief to the Land of Fine? Only wading through the grief. Which, of course, differs from person to person on how that happens and how quickly that happens.Losing the dream of having a family is very similar. Few couples ever think that loss will happen to them. Unless a couple decides they do not want kids, nobody WANTS to lose that dream. It is something you can't really prepare for, even if you think it's a possibility.

So for those of you that know someone struggling with infertility, let them be where they are. Let them grieve. They cannot move beyond this until they've gone through it. Yes, there is always hope when we have a Heavenly Father that can work miracles. IF He chooses to work a miracle. But before the idea of a miracle can even be hoped for, one must deal with the death of a dream. One must come to the acceptance that the Lord's plan for their life may very well be childless. So let your brother or sister be not-fine. Wanting them to speed along to the Land of Fine only hinders the trip that much more.

Can you imagine having lost your spouse and at the funeral someone saying, "Oh, you can get married again!" Or, "Have you tried this dating site? I've heard it's really successful." Or, "My friend in Ohio lost her husband, went on a vacation and found another one because she just wasn't thinking about him anymore."

That's about how insensitive it is to bring up IVF or adoption or "trying again" when someone is grieving over their infertility or pregnancy loss. Please just don't say things like that. I promise it makes things worse.

You may not have ever struggled with infertility, but you CAN be a huge help in the healing process if you are thoughtful and prayerful about your words and actions. In fact, your help is not only needed, but required for the healing process.

Andi's encouragement didn't stop there. As I have shared on the blog, going into baby sections of stores is incredibly difficult for me -- in fact, it has been nearly impossible. I struggled with this. I thought it was stupid. I tried to talk myself out of this. I was embarrassed by this and felt people would think I was being dramatic. But then Andi wrote to me this week:

I understand that emotion very well. I had a hard time "letting go" to the joy of my pregnancy. It was my third one and I just knew I would lose it like the others. Why get excited about something that had always failed me in the past? But month by month went by and I kept getting bigger and bigger. It seemed that things were different this time around. Or was it? I asked myself that all the time. I was afraid that getting registered would jinx it. Silly, I know, but I also know you understand. I tried getting registered three times before I could finally do it. I'd walk into Babies R Us and look around at bedding and high chairs and clothes and would just lose it. I left three times in tears and terribly depressed. It would take several days for me to just recover from the experience. It was all so overwhelming! I didn't have a clue what I needed or what choices to make, what products were best, etc. But my biggest fear was getting registered and then losing the pregnancy. Even at 6 and 7 months, when the pregnancy was just fine and I knew Jon's chances were creeping up everyday if I were to go into early labor. This entire journey is in our Father's hands and He's about to bless you beyond comprehension. Thank you for being so open with your journey...the fun stuff and the fears. You minister to me with your honesty.

I was so blessed by this! It felt so wonderful to know that I was not stupid or dumb or unique in these emotions. What a blessing! I thought of Andi when I turned to JB as we stood in the foyer of Target and said, "Let's do this!" I thought of Andi when JB decided to buy us some Starbuck's drinks to celebrate with as we wandered aimlessly through row after row of choices. And I emailed Andi when I got home to tell her I had done it and to share with her the burdens of my heart.

Andi also asked if I was okay with "hand-me-downs?" She had a few of Jon's pieces that she didn't want to part with but wanted to see them go to good use. ARE YOU KIDDING?!? How awesome is that?! How cool for my son to be able to share something with a boy he has never met.

Thanks Andi for your encouragement this week. It's been a tough week emotionally in a lot of ways and your friendship has been such a blessing. Thanks for being a friend -- even though we've never met.