Gone Too Soon

As I mentioned in a previous post, Daughtry came to Incirlik last week. Afterwards, JB sent me the lyrics to a new song by the group. It was written after the birth of Daughtry's twins, as he imagined never having gotten the chance to meet them.

I want to preface this post by telling you that this song may be too difficult to watch/read for those of you who have lost a child. JB and I were both incredibly moved by the lyrics and the meaning behind the song. Check out the lyrics below:

Gone Too Soon lyrics

today could've been the day
that you blow out your candles
make a wish as you close your eyes
today could've been the day
everybody was laughin'
instead i just sit here and cry
who would you be?
what would you look like
when you looked at me for the very first time?
today could've been the next day of the rest of your life

not a day goes by that i don't think of you
i'm always asking why this crazy world had to lose
such a ray of light we never knew
gone too soon, yeah

would you have been president?
or a painter, an author or sing like your mother
one thing is evident
would've given all i had
would've loved ya like no other
who would you be?
what would you look like?
would you have my smile and her eyes?
today could've been the next day of the rest of your life

not a day goes by that i don't think of you
i'm always asking why this crazy world had to lose
such a ray of light we never knew
gone too soon, yeah

not a day goes by, oh
i'm always asking why, oh

not a day goes by that i don't think of you
i'm always asking why this crazy world had to lose
such a beautiful life we never knew
gone too soon
you were gone too soon, yeah

Being as we experienced many minutes after Elijah's birth when we thought we would never get to see him grow up, this song particularly touched us. It also touched us in thinking about the 11 embryos that we lost during our IVF journey. 

I think of my many friends who lost children. How do we possibly make sense of this sadness? So many others of you who have faced the loss of children too son.

This post is for all of you. 

This moving, grief-wracked ballad about a child never born was sparked by the birth of twins to Chris Daughtry. At one point during the writing session, the frontman had to walk out to collect himself. "The song is about realizing that today could have been the day that someone would be blowing out the candles," he said. "It just hit me pretty hard. I remember playing the demo for my brother and I turned around and he was bawling. I didn't realize that my brother's wife had suffered a miscarriage years before. It was a pretty emotional moment."

Chris Daughtry wrote the song with San Francisco songwriter Michael Busbee. You can listen to it by clicking here.

Financing Infertility & Adoption

I recently stumbled across the following radio interview with financial guru Dave Ramsey. How to Adopt Without Debt. You can read about the interview by clicking here. You can listen to the interview by clicking here.

He is talking to Julie Gumm, author of the book: Adopt Without Debt: Creative Ways to Cover the Cost of Adoption.

I absolutely LOVE Dave Ramsey. He helped my husband I get completely debt free. We are huge fans of Financial Peace and the debt snowball idea. There are many other financial gurus, all with the same basic message: live debt free.

I found this intereview to be right up my alley. I definitely want to get Julie Gumm's book. I do believe that while adoption costs are high, there are a lot of resources and avenues that can be employed to adopt without going into significant debt -- thus one of the reasons we founded Because of Isaac.

Be forewarned. Dave is speaking to people wanting to adopt a child to "help the world." Not people adopting due to childlessness. to adopt a child. I found his response a tad on the callous side, and therefore attempted to do some research on Dave's take on infertility debt -- something that my husband and I were forced to enter into when we were doing infertility treatments.

I did some research on Dave Ramsey's website and found his take on financing infertility treatments or considering adoption. I thought that during these calls, Dave did an incredible job showing compassion and empathy for individuals having to make these difficult decisions.

• A debt before adopt?  Question: Sharon and her husband make $90,000 a year with several thousand dollars in debt. They are considering infertility treatments. What does Dave say about starting a family while in debt?
• Pause the debt snowball for infertility treatments?  Question: Eric in Wisconsin and his wife are down to two debts they’re paying off. They’re approaching their five-year anniversary and want to start a family. They want to consider some fertility treatments making $50,000 a year. Is it okay to pause the debt snowball for this?
• Heart Wrenching Story  Question: Robin is incorporating fertility planning with Dave's financial planning. Insurance pays for most of the fertility planning and they pay their 20% with cash. They have $2,000 left in their fertility budget. She is 39 and feels "under the gun" personally and financially. Dave gives her a disclaimer and offers his best advice.

Our story on video

Here's a video featuring our story in twenty minutes. Our dear friend Linda put this together for us. It will eventually be linked from my main website: www.wendikitsteiner.com. It tells the story of our infertility and adoption journey in our own words. I hope you enjoy it. I'd love to hear what you think of it. We eventually hope to edit it more and put together a smaller version as well. Enjoy!

I would die for that -- Kellie Coffey

I originally posted this Kellie Coffey video on on my daily blog on June 28, 2007. I have never seen one item so perfectly capture my heart as this video did. If you are anything like JB and I were the first time we watched this, you probably want to make sure you have some privacy. It's quite emotional.

Held -- Natalie Grant

The Kite Runner

This post originally ran on my blog on October 29, 2006. I remember how incredibly poignant and meaningful it was to me at the time -- for a male writer to write about infertility and capture it so perfectly really touched me. 

I just finished a fantastic book. At JB's 30th surprise party this past January, I asked everyone who wanted to bring a gift, to bring their favorite book! I, honestly, was thrilled with this idea, and will probably do it again in the future. John got some great books and has read many of them. He has yet to read The Kite Runner, a gift from our friends Tia and her fiancee' Rob. However, I am now done with it. I wish I wasn't. I wish the characters were still moving forward. I wish I could continue to look into their lives. There are so many things I still want to see them do.

Now let me preface this glowing recommendation by telling you that this is not a light-hearted read. It is a very deep and moving book about a young Muslim boy growing up in Afghanistan during the last peaceful days of the monarchy, just before his country's revolution and its invasion by Russian forces. Written by Khaled Hosseini, he himself grew up in Afghanistan during the era that the book is set. He paints an amazing picture of a beautiful country torn apart by war.

It is also a mature read with very mature themes. The language is not too bad which I was thankful for, but the subject matter is very mature and definitely not for everyone. This was borderline "too deep" for me.

That being said, let me just say that Monday evening while JB was on call I laid in bed as 9:00 turned to 10 and 10 to 11 and 11 pushed its way toward midnight trying as hard as I could to get to a stopping point in this book -- a spot that I felt comfortable leaving the characters at until I could pick them up again. I finally did stop only to pick it up the next day during my lunch break and flip pages feverishly, attempting to finish before I had to return to work. It is actually completely irresistible. The characters are so beautifully painted and the descriptions so vivid that you keep forgetting this is not a biography -- forgetting that it is simply a piece of historical fiction. It is amazing, and if you can handle a deep, sad, and moving read, then give this a try.

WARNING! SPOILER AHEAD!


Okay, so if you plan to read the book, I'd suggest you stop reading this post immediately. I want to discuss a section of this book that really moved me due to its connection to infertility. This spoiler will not ruin the book but is definitely not preferable.

Midway through the book, the young couple, Amir and Soraya get married. As the years of their marriage ticked by, I immediately knew where this was going. Time to have the kids. I groaned a little internally knowing that yet again another couple would decide to try and "presto!" have a baby just like they tell you it happens in your health class in high school. Could anyone paint a realistic picture? That sometimes it doesn't happen like that?

I shouldn't have doubted this author's ability to paint a picture with the real world painted all over it. He painted the truth. That ometimes "Presto" isn't a magic word.

So I include a passage here. This passage so amazing represented what infertility is like in a few quick pages. It was quite breathtaking and emotional for me to read.

So I read:

That was the year that Soraya and I began trying to have a child.

The idea of fatherhood unleashed a swirl of emotions in me. I found it frightening, invigorating, daunting, and exhilarating all at the same time. What sort of father would I make, I wondered. I wanted to be just like Baba and I wanted to be nothing like him.

But a year passed and nothing happened. With each cycle of blood, Soraya grew more frustrated, more impatient, more irritable. By then, her mother's initially sublte hints had become over, as in "Kho dega!" So! "When am I going to sing alahoo for my little nawasa?" Her father, ever the Pashtun, never made any queries -- doing so meant alluding to a sexual act between his daughter and a man, even if the man in question had been married to her for over four years. But his eyes perked up when his wife teased us about a baby.

"Sometimes, it takes a while," I told Soraya one night.

"A year isn't a while, Amir!" she said, in a terse voice so unlike her. "Something's wrong. I know it."

"Then let's see a doctor."

Dr. Rosen, a round-bellied man with a plump face and small even teeth, spoke with a faint Eastern European accent, something remotely Slavic. He had a passion for trains -- his office was littered with books about the history of railroads, model locomotives, paintings of trains trundling on the tracks through green hills and over bridges. A sign above his desk read, LIFE IS A TRAIN, GET ON BOARD.

He laid out a plan for us. I'd get checked first. "Men are easy," he said, fingers tapping on his mahogany desk. "A man's plumbing is like his mind: simple, very few surprises. You ladies, on the other hand ... well, God put a lot of thought into making you." I wondered if he fed that bit about plumbing to all of his couples.

"Lucky us," Soraya said.

Dr. Rosen laughed. It fell a few notches short of genuine. He gave me a lab slip and a plastic jar, handed Soraya a request for some routine blood tests. We shook hands. "Welcome aboard," he said, as he showed us out.

***

I passed with flying colors.

The next few months were a blur of tests on Soraya: Basal body temperatures, blood tests for every conceivable hormone, urine tests, something called a "Cervical Mucus Test," ultrasounds, more blood tests, and more urine tests. Soraya underwent a procedure called a hysteroscopy -- Dr. Rosen inserted a telescope into Soraya's uterus and took a look around. He found nothing. "The plumbing's clear," he announced, snapping off his latex gloves. I wished he'd stop calling it that -- we weren't bathrooms. When the tests were over, he explained that he couldn't explain why we couldn't have kids. And, apparently, that wasn't so unusual. It was called "Unexplained infertility."

Then came the treatment phase. We tried a drug called Clomiphene, and hMG, a series of shots which Soraya gave to herself. When these failed, Dr. Rosen advised in vitro fertilization. We received a polite letter from our HMO, wishing us the best of luck, regretting they couldn't cover the cost.

We used the advance I had received for my novel to pay for it. IVF proved lengthy, meticulous, frustrating, and ultimately unsuccessful. After months of sitting in waiting rooms, reading magazines like Good Housekeeping and Reader's Digest, after endless paper gowns and cold, sterile exam rooms lit by fluorescent lights, the repeated humiliation of discussing every detail of our sex life with a total stranger, the injections and probes and specimen collections, we went back to Dr. Rosen and his trains.

He sat across from us, tapped his desk with his fingers, and used the word "adoption" for the first time.


Soraya cried all the way home.

Soraya broke the news to her parents the weekend after our last visit with Dr. Rosen. We were sitting on picnic chairs in the Taheris' backyard, grilling out and sipping yogart dogh. It was an early evening in March 1991. Her mother had watered the roses and her new honeysuckles, and their fragrance mixed with the smell of cooking fish. Twice already, she had reached across the chair to caress Soraya's hair and say, "God knows best, bachem. Maybe it wasn't meant to be."

Soraya kept looking down at her hands. She was tired, I knew, tired of it all.

A few months later, we used the advance for my second novel and placed a down payment on a pretty, two-bedroom Victorian house in San Francisco's Bernal Heights. Sometimes, Soraya sleeping next to me, I lay in bed and listened to the screen door swinging open and shut with the breeze, to the crickets chirping in the yard. And I could almost feel the emptiness of Soraya's womb, like it was a living, breathing thing. It had seeped into our marriage, that emptiness, into our laughs, and our lovemaking. And late at night, in the darkness of our room, I'd feel it rising from Soraya and settling between us. Sleeping between us. Like a newborn child. 

(To read more ... buy the book. Or borrow it from me!)

Ponderances of Trust

I originally wrote this post in August of 2008, just a few months after our son, Isaac, joined our family via adoption.

To trust or not to trust.

I suppose I should follow that by saying: "That is the question."

In fear of being incredibly cliche', I'll refrain.

But as I have moved throughout a rainy Saturday and into Sunday (which turned out not to be nearly as rainy as everyone predicted), and as I caught up at work and attempted to entertain a dog without a yard, Frisbee, or anything outside my living room, my thoughts were on trust. I had a lot of free time, as I often do, when JB is on call.

I think these thoughts stemmed from a conversation I had held the evening prior with a friend. And then it stretched back into a discussion JB and I had just a few days prior to that. A discussion on what it means to trust the Lord and how easy it is to say, "Trust Him," when your own lack of trust finally paid off.

I spent five years arguing with God and refusing to trust Him, because, well, He was not doing what He was supposed to do! I'd sit in front of the Bible I was unable to read each morning and tell Him everything. I'd tell Him that I thought He was unfair. I'd tell Him that I thought He forgot about me. I'd tell Him that I could not possibly take one more shot, one more appointment, one more unanswered prayer. "How many people need to pray?" I asked Him all too many times. I'd sob. I'd beg. I'd yell. I'd give up.

I wouldn't call anything I did during those days, trust.

In fact, I can honestly say that my trust for the Lord didn't enter into the picture until months after we moved to Florida. It was after our fourth failed IVF, when JB was working horrid hours at the hospital, and I was attempting to train our fifteen pounds of spotted fur not to pee in the kitchen or chew the baseboards, that I began to finally give up. I think giving up is a key ingredient in trust. It wasn't until I finally threw my hands up in despair and said I could no longer do it or seek it or try it, that I began to trust God. In a way what I did was give up on the idea of being a mom. In another way what I did was decide to let God decide what was best for my life. I didn't know if I would like the decision He made. But I was done trying to make my own.

I would not call that trust perfect. There were days that I still broke down. There were days that I still questioned His decisions. There were days that I still felt sorry for myself and had a good cry. I still could not attend first birthday parties or baby showers. I still had trouble with pregnancy announcements and bulging bellies. We kept finding other fun things to do on Mother's Day instead of going to church. In fact, it was one month after Isaac was born, when I was in fact, unknowingly pregnant, that I had yet another good cry, lying in the bed next to JB one night. It had been a long time since I had cried so hard that I had trouble lying down and had to sit up to make sure the tears didn't choke me. I think it took JB by surprise a little bit to see me back in that place. We were so happy with Isaac. We truly felt our lives were complete. And yet there was a part of me that still felt sad that we were infertile (even though we actually no longer were). And another part of me that was still very afraid of having to do IVF again someday. It was a lot easier to trust when I wasn't doing a treatment cycle. How could I trust when constantly reminded -- a necessary part of infertility treatments?

Our church has begun a series on parenting. Had it come just one year ago, I know I'd be taking a short siesta from services. The guest speaker, on the first day of the series, encouraged us not to stop coming if we weren't currently parents -- telling us that we could still get something out of the sermon. I looked at JB, and we shared a knowing glance. How many times had we been told that before? How many times had I attended an event structured for mothers when I wasn't one? On the drive over I'd try to convince myself with the thought that I should be healthy enough to gleam something from the speaker's words despite my own pain. Then I'd have a good cry in the bathroom during a break, put on a happy face, and try all over again.

In the midst of our infertility journey, I finally gave up on doing that. It wasn't that I couldn't take something from the words. It was that the words were too painful to hear. Parents sat around nodding their heads or emitting a knowing chuckle. I just sat there wishing that I had a nod to give. The emotions would come running back. The feelings would come swarming over me, even if I had thought they were far away. I suppose they were never very far at all.

Don't get me wrong. I think a series on parenting is a great idea. I think I'll learn a lot from it, especially considering I've avoided these sermons for so long. But on the way home that morning I told JB that my heart hurt for the people who hurt during that discussion. As always, I thought of people who weren't holding an Isaac during the sermon. And especially those people who weren't sitting next to a John. Not seeing your dreams come true is a painful reality, and my heart hurt because now my dreams were coming true while others still waited.

I find it important, when sharing the story of our family to make sure that I don't tell people that if they trust God, everything will work out okay. For some people this may be true in a matter of days or weeks or months. For me, it was a matter of years. For Abraham and Sarah in then New Testament, it was a matter of decades. And for others, there dream may never come true on this Earth.

Instead I tell people that trust is hard. It is painful. And it can take a very long time to learn. In my case, I don't think I ever achieved full trust prior to Isaac's arrival. I like to believe I gained better trust. I like to believe I was getting there. But I hadn't arrived. I am not sure you ever actually do. All you can do is to try each day to remember that He does have a plan. It may make no sense. It may make sense in the future as I believe our struggles now do. But it many not make sense until we stand before our Heavenly Father someday. We may not ever see his plan with our earthly eyes.

My prayer today is that I am able to remember, someday in the future when I am faced with obstacles that impact my trust again, this period of my life. I hope you are able to do the same. I hope you are able to look at our story and see that God is present. In our case we can all see it now. That may not be the case for future events in my life or in your's. But He is there. And He does care.

I pray that if you are someone today who is hurting, you'll come to find just a bit more trust today. Don't try to get to 100%. Just try to get 1% better than you were yesterday. Just try to remember a little bit more that He does love you. He is hurting with you. And He does have your best interest in mind.

If this isn't you who are hurting, think of someone else who is. Make it a point to think of them during a painful sermon. Just having people telling me that my grief was legitimate helped me so much. People don't think I am stupid! It's okay that I am sad. They don't understand but they empathize. This made me feel so much better. Think of someone who is alone or grieving a loss the next time you are nodding in agreement with the pastor in church or celebrating an event with your family. A hug. An email. An invitation to dinner. We need each other in this world. I don't know what I would have done without my faithful friends during my darkest hours -- friends that trusted for me when I had no more trust to give.

God loves you. He remembers you. He has a plan.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not onto your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.

IVF's Moral Dilemmas

I found your blog through a friend's blog and it has been incredibly encouraging as my husband & I struggle with infertility. We're now discussing how far we will go down the fertility pathway. We're curious as to how you handled the ethical, biblical perspective as you approached IVF. There is obviously much to consider but with your experience we'd love to hear from you!

I'd like to answer this question, but I definitely want to begin with a disclaimer. What I write in the paragraphs to follow is only my opinion. This is a very deep topic with a lot of gray areas. I respectfully acknowledge that someone reading my blog may see things quite differently or may have even done things quite differently. In fact, I have very close friends who did things differently. I could not even begin to judge them. Each infertility situation is unique and requires its own set of praying and seeking the Lord's will. Please keep this in mind as you read what I have to say.

Also, please help me out by answering my question at the end of the post. I'd like help from readers with things I left out or didn't touch on in this post so that I can make this as complete as possible.

So, without further ado . . . here goes.

* * * * *

The very beginning
I can vividly remember every detail of the day that the words "IVF" were first uttered in my direction. We were sitting in the Reproductive Endocrinologist's Office at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. I never, ever, ever thought that I would be "one of those women" who had to do IVF. That was for other women. Not for me. It was completely shocking and overwhelming and upsetting all at the same time. I felt like I could not catch my breath. IVF? JB squeezed my hand in an attempt to comfort me from the news we truly thought we would never receive, but I could tell that the news was just as devastating to him as it was to me.

Not only is IVF extremely expensive, usually around $10,000 per attempt at a minimum, but it is racked with moral and ethical decisions and dilemmas. While the Catholic church unequivocally condemns any form of IVF as stepping outside of God's will for your life, most protestants, of which I am one, believe that infertility treatments and IVF is morally acceptable if done within strict limits. Where those limits actually lie is the big question.

A Diagnosis
In the two years that had preceded that visit where we first heard "IVF" come tumbling out of the nurse's mouth, we had done a myriad of other infertility treatments. I had had an MRI on my pituitary to determine why I didn't ovulate. I had had blood tests and taken shots and been tested in any and all ways the doctors could think of. JB had been tested. In the end, all they knew was that I didn't ovulate due to a condition called polycystic ovarian syndrome. While I did not have the weight gain, hair growth, and acne usually associated with the condition, I did have the absence of cycles and the pearl like follicles in my ovaries that indicated PCOS was the reason we had been unable to conceive.

Clomid
They started me on Clomid with the hopes that it would help me to ovulate. All it did was make me go crazy. To this day, JB says that Clomid was the worst drug I had to take. I don't remember that I was that difficult to live with, but JB would definitely beg to differ. Three cycles later and we were no better off.

Introduction to IUI
We then moved on to IUI (intrauterine insemination) or artificial insemination. IUI is a procedure where the sperm (either the husband's or a donor's) is injected directly into the woman with the hope that it will increase her chances of conception. In my case, I was given drugs to help produce follicles (which contain eggs) and then I would go in for the IUI procedure and take a shot to help release those follicles. Technically I could have just taken the drugs and skipped the actual IUI procedure -- just trying on our own instead. However, once you spend so much on the drugs needed to help you ovulate, the actual cost of the IUI procedure is quite minimal, and it makes sense to add it to the schedule.
Where IUI gets tricky is that you want to have a good number of follicles. A good number is usually 3 or 4. Too few and you feel your odds are incredibly low. Too many and you worry that your odds are incredibly high . . . not for success but for too much success: multiples.

Multiples
A side note here about multiples. The first time I walked into Mayo Clinic, my Doctor said to me, "Triplets are bad, triplets are bad, triplets are bad ..." It was honestly, the very first thing he said! Now I know a few people who have had triplets, and their children are wonderful and definitely not "bad." However, my doctor's point was that in any pregnancy with triplets or higher, the chances of something being wrong with one of the children goes up incredibly. The odds of cerebral palsy, for instance, jumps by large percentages with every additional baby in utero. Mayo is therefore very cautious and attempts to prevent anything greater than twins from occurring.

We have all seen the stories on TV about families with 5, 6, 7, or even 8 babies born at once. Most of the time these occur during an IUI procedure -- where control of the number of embryos is limited. (The Gosselins are one of the most known examples.) Or they occur during a cancelled IUI procedure -- where the physician will not do the IUI procedure due to the high number of follicles present, but the couple try on their own anyway. They may also occur during IVF -- especially at centers that are not cautious about the risk for multiples. Octamom Nadya Suleman fits into this category. I strongly encourage people to find a physician who shares or at least respects your viewpoint so as to prevent heartbreaking choices or consequences.

In Kate Gosselin's book: Multiple Blessings on their brood of sextuplets. In her case, they had not seen what appeared to be 7 follicles (which hold the eggs) on ultrasound. It was only after she found out she was pregnant that they realized their count had been off. (One embryos did not survive resulting in 6 babies.) Figuring out how many are possible is not really a science. My doctor often told me it was more of an art. You have to be very careful when proceeding in order to prevent high order multiples.

Selective reduction
IUI is a difficult procedure for a couple who, like JB and myself, do not believe in "selective reduction." Selective reduction is a procedure where a doctor goes in and aborts a certain number of babies in a pregnancy which has multiple babies. Usually this is only attempted when the number of babies is 4 or greater. With 3 babies, the risks of something going wrong with the selective reduction procedure is equivalent to that of carrying triplets so it is often not attempted. But in 4 or more, doctors will advise that 2 or more of the babies are killed so the others will survive and/or have a better chance at a healthy life.

For JB and myself, this was not up for debate. We would never, no matter what, consider selective reduction. This meant that we knew we had to be very cautious when doing the IUI procedure. Too many follicles could result in too many babies and a possibly heartbreaking outcome.

Four more BFN's
We attempted the IUI procedure four times. Two times we achieved a good number of follicles (3 or 4) and we did the procedure. Both times this procedure resulted in a BFN (big fat negative). One time they scrapped my cycle altogether as I had way too many follicles. This was incredibly disappointing as I had taken all the drugs to produce the follicles only to have to stop everything and start all over again. A fourth time, they refused to the IUI procedure but told us that we could take the shot and try on our own instead. This was done "under the table" so to speak. The doctor said he would never officially admit that he had told us to take the shot. But he kept reminding us that it was in our refrigerator.

This was the first point in our infertility journey that we reached our first sort of moral crossroads. Was it smart for us to attempt to get pregnant knowing that we could possibly have as many as 5 babies, knowing that that was not safe, and knowing that it could potentially harm one of our children? We met with our good friends Dave and Lesley and had a long talk. We weighed the odds that it would work and the odds that all of the follicles would work and did decide to try on our own. In the end, we did not get pregnant. However, this crossroads was the first time where we realized that what we wanted needed to line up with what God wanted. We knew that we could not put what we selfishly wanted ahead of what was in God's commandments at any point in this infertility journey.

IVF
It was after this fourth failed attempt with IUI that the nurse asked us if we had considered IVF (invitro fertilization). I remember her saying the words, and I remember wanting her to take them back. IVF is the granddaddy of all infertility treatments. It was thing we thought we'd never have to do. And now, here we were. IVF. I had remembered lying in bed at night saying to JB, "What if we have to do IVF?" He assured me that that wouldn't happen to us. We were just dealing with my own ovulatory disorder. IUI would be all we needed. Now, here we were. Prime candidates for IVF.

I asked my doctor what he thought my odds were with success through IVF. "You," he said, patting my arm, "Are the woman IVF was made for." I was the healthy girl with no real problems other than a minor ovulatory disorder.

Our moral absolutes regarding IVF
The issue with IVF is that you aren't just injecting sperm and letting "nature do it's thing." You are creating life. My husband and I believe that life begins at the moment conception occurs. We therefore believe that we are creating life when doing IVF.

That being the case, when we decided to do IVF, we set the following guidelines for ourselves:

• We would not rely on our own understanding. We would pray and seek the Lord's face in every decision we made.
• We would not move forward unless both of us were 100% on the same page.
• We would seek the opinion of others. Specifically, JB and I decided to follow the statements of Focus on the Family and the CMDA or Christian Medical and Dental Association. It was our hope that by aligning ourselves with two organizations and making sure we never stepped outside of their viewpoints, that we would be giving ourselves an extra bit of accountability. We never wanted what we wanted to move in front of what God's commandments were. We knew that with the money and pressure we could be swung into a faulty line of thinking if we didn't keep things in check. I strongly suggest that any Christian thinking of doing IVF finds an organization or two that can help guide them in their decision making.
• We would never create an embryo (life) that we did not plan on giving a chance for life outside the womb. We therefore would limit the number of embryos that we fertilized. In our case, this most likely was the reason we had to do a second harvest for IVF. But for us, the extra money and drugs and headaches were worth it. Some people even choose to go farther and not freeze any embryos. I completely respect this decision. As one person noted in the comments of this post, the rate of survival in freezing and dethawing can be low. My husband and I came to understand through our own research that if they did not survive the freezing/thawing process, they would not survive had they been in the womb either. This is another topic that we should have done more research on, and I felt we probably "zipped" through too fast.
• We would never contemplate selective reduction. Ever. This meant that we would be very cautious when considering how many embryos to transfer.
• If for any reason we could not use the embryos we had created, we would (a) find a surrogate to carry the embryos for us OR (b) donate the embryos to another infertile couple. Reasons that we could not use the embryos would include my death or health.
• None of our embryos would be discarded or used for research, no matter what. We went as far as to create an "advanced directive" that left the embryos to my brother if JB and I were to both die. We wanted to make sure these embryos were not discarded. My brother has strict directions to donate these embryos to a Christian couple who would raise our biological children for the Lord.
• Mayo assured us that in their laboratory, they freeze before genetic transfer occurs. They therefore believe conception has not actually occurred when the freezing takes place. We decided not to believe this. If we were being overly cautious, then we were being overly cautious. We felt that we would continue with the thought that each embryo was life. If we got to heaven one day and found out that we were wrong, then so be it.

Harvest #1
IVF involves the "harvesting" of my eggs. After the eggs are harvested, they are fertilized in a test tube in a laboratory (thus the expression "test tube baby.") A select number of the fertilized embryos are then injected back into me in a process called a "transfer."

JB and I did 2 harvests and 4 transfers. For our first harvest, we decided to allow them to fertilize 12 eggs. Some couples do not have this luxury. They only manage to get a few eggs. However, in my particular case, I produced a large number of eggs when given the proper medication -- dozens actually. We therefore had to carefully contemplate how many eggs to allow the doctors to fertilize.
The doctors, of course, wanted to fertilize every single one. However, we held fast to our belief that we would only fertilize what we felt comfortable using. How did we decide on 12? For us this was based on "playing the numbers." I am having trouble recalling the exact odds that we were given, but we played with numbers on a pad of paper for days and weeks before deciding that 12 would be a good number for us. We were "banking" on approximately 10 of the embryos fertilizing, and of those 10, about 40% resulting in a successful pregnancy. This would give us approximately 4 children. That sounded about right to us.

Of course those of you following my story know that this wasn't the case at all. When they took those 12 eggs and fertilized them, to their great surprise, only 6 fertilized. They realized at this point that we were dealing with yet another infertility issue. We had a problem with sperm binding. We don't know if it was JB's fault or my fault or the fault of both of our materials put together, but either way, we only got 6 embryos. In the months and years to come, JB would insist that the problem was his just so that I would quit saying that our inability to have children was all my fault and he should go and find another wife. It was sweet of him.

Blasts
We transferred 2 of those embryos and did not achieve a successful pregnancy. In addition, 1 of those embryos was kept out longer before it was frozen. This is called a "blastocyst." Supposedly, these "blasts" have a higher rate of success. In our case, our "blast" died before it could be frozen. This is another area of moral dilemma. Some people do not believe you should allow the docs to create a blast. It was our belief that these embryos would live or die based on how good they were and that they would live or die inside or outside of me. We therefore did not have an issue with the blastocyst. If I were ever going to do IVF again, however, I would, personally, spend more time researching this particular issue. I feel this is one area we were not as knowledgeable about as we could have been.
Harvest #2
At this point we had 3 embryos left. We did a second transfer which also resulted in a negative pregnancy.

With just 1 embryo left, we decided to leave that 1 embryo frozen and do another harvest. This time we decided to fertilize 14 embryos. Twelve of them were successfully fertilized using a process called ICSI. This is where each egg is injected with a single sperm (instead of just throwing them in a tube dish together and seeing what happens.) Unfortunately, one of the blasts died this time again leaving 11 of embryos and 12 if you added our previous 1 to that batch. We transferred 2 more and did not have a successful outcome. We did one more with 3 embryos this time and did not have a successful outcome. This left 7 embryos remaining when we decided enough was enough! We currently have 7 embryos stored at Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota that we are 100% committed to returning for at some point.

Summary
It is our belief that the Lord is the creator of life. He creates follicles and sperm and eggs and embryos. Even with all the help the doctors provide, the Lord controls the final outcome. In our case, that was eleven negative results. Eleven expensive and extremely disappointing results. This is where infertility treatments are so difficult. No amount of money or prestige or power can give you a biological child. Only the Lord can do that.

We felt that morally, we needed to remember, at all times, that the Lord is the maker of life. We needed to not be selfish and put what we wanted in front of what the Lord had ordained at any point. To this day, I cannot tell you 100% that we did everything perfectly. I feel peace about our decisions, but I know that there is a chance we did something that was not morally acceptable. But we did the best we knew how to do with prayer and guidance from people and organizations we trusted.

Resources and questions
As I write this, I am not sure that I have answered all questions on this topic. I wanted to share three additional documents that helped guide us in our decision making.

• CMDA's stance on IVF
• Standards for Life
• FOF's Views on IVF and embryo donation
• Nightlight Christian Embryo adoption

Do you have a useful article? I'd love to add it to my list. Here are three articles posted in the comments during the original draft of this blog entry.

• Embryo Ethics: Does discarding unused embryos constitute murder?
• Ethics: In Vitro Fertilization (One Christian Minister's viewpoint on IVF)
• National Embryo Donation Center

These documents have a lot of great information from the two organizations I talked about previously. They also break down the Bible's viewpoint on infertility, adoption, and artificial reproductive technology.

I wonder if any of you who have read this whole post could help me out. I'd like to make sure I was very clear about everything in this post so that I can post this on the side of my blog as a resource. What additional questions do you have after reading? Please ask away! I will then go back through the post and edit it to reflect your questions (and also answer them in the the comments section.)
Thanks to my anonymous question asker. I hope I did a good job sharing our own journey and how we attempted to stay in God's will as Christians while in the midst of a very gray and murky area. Let me know what else I need to add!

'Tis So Sweet To Trust in the Lord

This post was originally written on January 31, 2006. I don't think I can attribute it to purely coincidence that our first biological son, Elijah, was born on January 31, 2009. Three years to the day that I wrote about learning to trust God in the midst of infertility. And somehow, I find myself ready to post this on January 31, 2012. God is in even the small things!

’TIS SO SWEET TO TRUST IN JESUS

’Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,

And to take Him at His Word;

Just to rest upon His promise,

And to know, “Thus says the Lord!”

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!

How I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er

Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!

O for grace to trust Him more!

O how sweet to trust in Jesus,

Just to trust His cleansing blood;

And in simple faith to plunge me

’Neath the healing, cleansing flood!

Yes, ’tis sweet to trust in Jesus,

Just from sin and self to cease;

Just from Jesus simply taking

Life and rest, and joy and peace.

I’m so glad I learned to trust Thee,

Precious Jesus, Savior, Friend;

And I know that Thou art with me,

Wilt be with me to the end.

How many times I have sung this hymn? How many times have we sung this hymn? As I write this now, this song is playing in the background on the website where I copied the lyrics from.

I must admit that all my life, I would sing this hymn, or something like it, and boom it with all my heart (or boom it quietly with all my heart as not to ruin it for those around me who sing much better than I.)

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, health. Nothing bad had happened to me. Of course I trusted Him.

I was in the laundry room talking to a dear friend a few days ago. As we spoke, we both, in our own way, had come to realize that trust is easy when your life is going as planned. While my trust issue is infertility, your trust issue and her trust issue was something different, but it actually all boiled down to the same thing -- wondering what the heck the Lord was thinking?! Where are you Lord? What are you doing?

Recently I have seemed to face this with many people I know -- great Christian people I know who have lost a parent, lost a child, not achieved the career goals they had in mind, been unable to conceive a child, been hurt by something or someone in the church. Suddenly the words of the hymnal become painful to sing. Trust Him? Well, sort of. I mean, I want to trust Him, but why the heck is He doing things this way? Why doesn't He do them my way? Why did He allow that to happen? He defeated sin.

In my case, it is looking around me and listing all the people that God should give me a child to before they give it to them. Yesterday it was a little Brazilian baby thrown in the river in a plastic bag. (She survived and people are now lining up to adopt her.) It's the people who have abortions (126,000 each day and 55 million each year). It's the teenage mothers or those who don't seem to have the money to afford kids having kids. It's the men and women who allow their children to be emotionally or physically or sexually abused. "Wait!" I scream at the TV or at the Lord. "Here I am and here are all the women in my support group. Give us those babies! Bless us with their pregnancy! We want those children!" It's a moment when I look to the Lord and say, "Lord, I'm not sure I do trust You. Do you know what the heck you are doing?"

If you are reading this, I don't expect you to relate to the infertility part, but as a dear cousin told me, "I can't relate to the infertility part, but I can relate to never being given the job I want." Or maybe you lost a parent who didn't deserve to die. Or maybe your marriage ended despite everything you tried to do. Have you wondered what God is thinking?

I am reminded from a scene in Return to Me (the greatest movie EVER!) I don't want to ruin it for you if you haven't seen it. But if you have, I am sure you remember when Grace (Minnie Driver) is sitting in Bonnie Hunt's living room sobbing due to the events that just transpired and admist her tears she says, "What was God thinking?" I can so relate to that moment even though I can't relate to what happened.

Some of you know that I am in am in an infertility Support Group at my church. It's a group that I helped start with two other women. We now have about 15-20 women involved off and on. (It's not a group that I want to be a life-long member of by the way.) The group is called Hearts Like Hannah. Last night we held our quarterly "Caribou Coffee" meeting and a new woman joined us who had tons of questions -- tons of things that she wanted to know if "anyone else felt." We talked to her and answered her questions and completely understood every bit of where she was coming from. Another woman there has twins from embryo adoption. She looked at me last night and basically said, "I know what God was thinking. If I wouldn't have travelled the road I travelled, I wouldn't have these two boys -- and these are my boys."

As I was driving home, I had the moment I had wanted since this journey started shortly after my 26th birthday. I somehow, finally, trusted the Lord. I have been trying so hard -- every step of this journey, but last night I could honestly sing this song and mean it. I realized that while the Lord didn't cause this disorder I have, he is 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." Wait a minute! If I wouldn't have gone through this, I wouldn't have met this woman last night. If my friend with the twins hadn't have gone through this, she wouldn't have the twins she had. If I wouldn't have gone through this I wouldn't have reconnected with old friends. I wouldn't have the faith I have.

More than anything, I don't think I would be able to understand when a friend told me they were questioning their faith or grieving a dissapointment -- whatever it may be. But somehow, now, because of this, I understand. And somehow (and not to say I won't have days where I struggle with this whole trust thing all over again), somehow, I realize that the Lord has the greater picture in His view.

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.

I am not saying I won't have doubts in the future, but for today, I am okay. I know that even if I don't have a biological child of my own, the Lord is real, and He has got my soul in the palm of my hand. I trust that.

-- Wendi Kitsteiner

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.