I'm Michele. When I met Matt 21 years ago, we didn't think immediately of having children. In fact, we were fresh out of high school, doing what teenagers do best: flirting, planning our Saturday night dates, and simply enjoying our time giggling together. A few months later, my mom and dad were being relocated out of state by their employer, and my entire world tipped off axis.
At the age of 18, I had fallen in love with the little bugger, rooted myself in New England, and decided to stay put. A few weeks after turning 20, we married. It is one of the most amazing decisions I've ever made in my life, and to this day, I'm convinced we started life together so impossibly young simply because we've had so much life together to live!
There are certain things you just don't know about a person until you share close quarters. I didn't know about Matt's annoying habit of leaving dishes in the sink "to soak," brimming with cold, gray, greasy water. He didn't know about my remarkably clever way to cover the bases of superstition; I was terrified at the thought of physically giving birth to a child, and yet, convinced that fate would lash me with a wet noodle by not allowing me to physically bear children.
And what I didn't know until I visited a gynecologist in 1988 was that my world would shortly become unrecognizable. Newly married, I visited with a new gynecologist for a "tune-up" and "certification". (Picture a doc with a headlight on her head, nodding " Ayuh... we'll just stamp you with approval... you pass! " Don't know why I always picture a mechanic inspecting a car at this juncture.) Two seconds in to the physical exam, she detected a cyst near my ovary. Five minutes later she offered a laparoscopic surgery as an option. Holy crud, 20 years old, newly married, and an optional surgery? This "decision" was harder than Final Jeopardy! Three months later, Matt kissed me for luck as they wheeled my trembling skinny butt into surgery. Four HOURS later they wheeled me into recovery and informed my terrified, 22 year old husband that our future was changed forever. As I was still blitzed to the wind on pain meds and feel good IV drips, he drove around that night for five hours, trying to figure out how to tell me the next day; The odds of me ever getting pregnant without medical assistance were less than 5%. Apparently, the Appendicitis I suffered as a fourteen year old girl left a nasty little surprise, only to be discovered many years later; the poison from the rupture leaked through my uterine wall, and wrought unbelievable damage.
Hello. We were babies ourselves. Children weren't even a blip on the radar yet! They told us to get very busy as within 6 months time that whopping 5% chance would rapidly dwindle to zero due to scar tissue growth. (Superstitious Note: I can't help thinking - AHA! See what happens when you worry about what's out of your control? Now it's the real deal, toots, and you practically dared it to happen!)
So... we tried. And tried. And tried. Glossing through the boring parts.... ba-da-bing, ba-da-boom... the most momentous occasion in our lives... I get pregnant with what's truly our miracle. It took six years of determination to make it happen, and I have to constantly remind myself he inhaled that fierce conviction when he was in an embryonic stage... this always helps when we go to battle over an assignment or lesson plan.
Oh, many infertiles will tell you that adoption is not an option until they've worked through grieving the loss of a biological child. It's not that adoption was never an option for us - just that we weren't ready to cross that bridge, and would have done an adopted child an injustice until we were ready for that step. You have to be at peace in your heart, or some things always haunt. Make sense?
That whopping bundle (just shy of 11 pounds at birth) came onto the scene in 1995, and our lives have been... (ah, remarkable doesn't cut it. Exciting? Well, sometimes. How about - fulfilled? Yup. That works.) Throughout the highs, lows and tragedies, the fact that we emotionally survived the pure he** of the first six years always buffets us through the storm. We have been through hardships 10x as difficult since, but Matt and I can secretly look at each other and just know we can get through it if we stick together.
Okay. Enough professions of the perfect little ol' life. I love the man dearly, he is fantastic, and yet, can be the biggest arse on a daily basis. This isn't a romance novel folks, I promised honesty. I don't want to be teased at day's end when I'm exhausted and cranky like a shrew. I don't want to be patted on the butt when I'm cooking dinner - I've warned him countless time to stay far away when I have a wooden spoon in my hand, lest he feel a sharper smack on his patootie. Most of all, don't brush (scratch) my legs in the middle of the night with those toenails - EWWWW! In fairness, I should let him come on here and grumble publically about my shortcomings. Nope! I'm doing the writing, I'll have to just be honest and share myself.
Life is never all roses, and if someone claims it is, they've inhaled too much fabric softener. We laugh, we cry, we argue, and we claim it's over (not often, but it has been said in moments of anger). We're real.
Oh. One disclaimer that really must be said. I'm not preaching about the choices others should make in life. I respect our differences in philosophy, religion, child rearing, house building, cooking abilities, hairstyles, um, you get the idea. Please respect my choices, even if you disagree. Voicing disagreement is fine, but only without expression of judgment. Share your divergent thoughts! I welcome feedback, and look forward to future entries, simply because writing helps me to work things out! Blogs make me nervous as I've seen people get trounced for expressing themselves. No personal slams, please. But bring on the different points of view - I learn from those!
So, I wonder, how many homeschoolers out there have also struggled with fertility issues? Do you find that it impacts your lives today, or have you been able to pull your feet out of the infertility puddle for good? Does a prior (or current) struggle with infertility affect your homeschooling style?
Lest you feel unwelcome, moms or dads of large families, don't shy away on me! I'm curious if you feel challenges with the flip side of your fertility - do you get questioned by strangers about the size of your family? Come on, share! Has fertility (either struggles with, or caution against) impacted your lives in any way?
Look forward to meeting you guys! Don't be shy about dropping a comment, or simply shouting out hello! |
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Feb. 7, 2007 - Welcome to HSB!
It's true in my case. We adopted our first after 3 years of unsuccesful attempts at pregnancy. Then I (miraculously) conceived, then experience infertility again. Then finally conceived one last time. I consider all 4 of our kids to be amazing, undeserved blessings.
Infertility changed me for the better. I learned to accept God's sovereignty. Because we adopted minority kids, I became much more aware of the issues facing minority ethnic groups.
I could say a lot more, but then this comment would be two pages long. :)