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I was talking to a friend recently who has struggled with infertility and we were both sharing how people are so secretive about struggling with infertility, like it's a bad thing or ashamed of it.

It's so true and I admit for a long time, I was also very quiet about it and it was the most lonely feeling ever.

It wasn't until I started reaching out on the internet, trying to find out more information and more support that I realized how common infertility was. 1 in 8 couples struggle with it.

This week is National Infertility Awareness Week and in honor of that, I'd like to share my story.

We were one of the "lucky" couples that had both male and female infertility.

What a lot of people don't realize is that dialysis and kidney failure can cause infertility. As diabetes progresses, it really can hurt the fertility. It damages the DNA and our chances were really low at conceiving at the time we had decided to wanted to try. I remember when Mark first went on dialysis and they told us that, I was mostly just focused on keeping my husband alive. I was hoping on having 5 years with him as his husband and that was my main focus.

Believe it or not, we're getting ready to celebrate our 13th wedding anniversary in a couple weeks. A feat I never dreamed possible when we got married.

Anyway, when we first got tested for our infertility, I was considered "fine". My cycles were regular and all the testing was normal.

I can tell you, that was so hard on Mark. He felt like he already was giving me a hard life with his diabetes and now he couldn't provide me with a baby. And it seemed it was all "his fault".

I'd like to say that I never got angry but I did. Not so much at Mark but at his diabetes. Diabetes is a horrible disease and affects you in ways people don't even think about.

I spent a lot of time trying to comfort Mark about his "failure" while he comforted me with every monthly loss and disappointment.

Then it came to our IVF cycle and I'll never forget when the RE called us and told us he had some shocking news for us. Only 4 out of 12 eggs fertilized, which is on the low side, and out of those 4, they only fertilized, and didn't continue to divide. Then he said something I'll never forget: "This is definitely an egg issue, not a sperm issue". It was a rare issue and one that can only be found doing IVF.

It was like someone punched me in the stomach. I was the "problem"? I had perfect cycles, uterus, the best IVF cycle they had seen that month...and they were telling me it was ME?

I remember going into the followup appointment completely devastated. Never in a million years did I ever think I'd need to talk about using donor eggs or donor embryos but that's exactly what we were talking about. The RE said in his 20 years he had only seen this happen 3 times and my chances of having a baby with my eggs were pretty much nonexistent.

On our way home we stopped to eat. I wasn't hungry at all but being Mark was diabetic, he had to eat. I remember sitting in the booth with tears coming down, not caring who saw me, and just sobbing. I told Mark "I feel like less of a woman. I feel like I've let you down."

He grabbed my hand and said "I know exactly how you feel"

Normally it's my biggest pet peeve to hear someone say that because nobody knows exactly how someone else feels, but when I saw the compassion and sorrow in Mark's eyes that day, I knew he did know and he knew much more than how I felt.

I've often wondered why we had to struggle with both male and female infertility but I think it was a gift God gave us. Up until that moment, I think it was too much for Mark, thinking it was all him. To find out that he could be there for me in my time of need, was something he needed and he needed to be able to comfort me.

It changed our lives.

From the time we found out about my "scrambled eggs" (it's still a joke between us), we were 100% in it together. While we were in it together before, there was a definite wall between us that we didn't even know was there.

When I share with others that I have a genetic disorder and I'm unable to conceive with my eggs, people often ask if it runs in my family. Not that I know of. My sister will sneeze and get pregnant and my mom has twins with no history of infertility issues. I don't know of any infertility issues on either side.

Do I wonder why I was the "chosen" one? Of course I do, especially when we've had to deal with so much with Mark's health. Why do we have to deal with that and infertility? Why do I have the scrambled eggs?

I don't know but looking back, that news was what Mark needed to help him feel needed and wanted and while he hated seeing me in pain and feeling so guilty, it also helped him to be able to comfort me.

There is a reason for everything. I may not be able to conceive with my eggs but I have the best daughter I could ever imagine who proves to me every day that she loves me even with my scrambled eggs.

Easter 2014

Mommy and Hannah

Peyton, Hannah, Tyler & Jamie

Hannah & Daddy

Sweet Hannah

Hope you all had a wonderful Easter!! 

Like Hannah attempted to say in her Easter program (got shy & wouldn't say it :)):  JESUS IS ALIVE!!!

Why my birthday is so significant for me

I think most people who have followed my blog know the story but I wanted to write it down for those who don't. To me, it's amazing how things worked out the way they did.

In 2010, we had adopted embryos from a dear friend of mine. She was pregnant with twins and had 3 frozen embryos that we adopted. These embryos were graded "the best" and with my friend's twin pregnancy, we were so optimistic and hopeful.

Not only that, my beta was scheduled for my birthday. What a great ending to a journey, a positive beta and the perfect birthday present.

Now that would be in a perfect world.

A few days before my birthday, I tested. A Big Fat Negative.

I was devastated. I had such high hopes and they were dashed.

I tested again on my birthday and it was negative again.

I drove to the RE's office an hour one way, on my birthday, prepared for the worst news I could get.

I specifically remembering asking the woman drawing my blood if they would be calling me that day to let me know the results. It was a Sunday and they were normally closed. I could tell she wasn't happy to be there and while I was normally impressed with the workers' sensitivity, this one did not impress me. She simply said "We're closed. I don't know when they'll call you".

I started crying and said "It's my birthday. I know it will be negative and I just want it over with". Mark held me as they drew my blood.

For the record, they waited until the next day to call me with the results.

At the recheck appointment, our RE talked to us about the next steps. We could get on a list for donated embryos. However, the wait was at least 2 years long. It didn't cost anything to do that so we got on the list, although in my mind, I knew we didn't want to wait that long.

In the summer of 2010, we started the long, drawn out adoption process.

You can imagine the surprise when in December 2010, we got an email saying there were embryos available for us. A 2-year wait had turned into a 6-month wait. A God thing.

I still had it in my heart to carry. So this news was so wonderful to hear. We put the adoption on hold and prepared to undergo a frozen embryo transfer. We were told these embryos "weren't very good" but this was our last hope for me carrying.

I put that in quotes as to me, embryos are babies, babies are special and all babies are equal. I understand they are talking from a medical perspective but it always has bothered me when embryos are put into classes, like any life is better than another.

We underwent the transfer which ironically was so close to the dates of the transfer in 2010. When I asked when the beta test would be, the nurse nonchalantly said "I think we'll schedule it for April 18"

My birthday. The beta was scheduled once again on my birthday.

I got real quiet. The nurse asked me if that would work out. I remember whispering, "Yes, that will be fine".

Truth be told, I was devastated. I thought it was a cruel joke God was playing on me. How could He do this to me? Two years in a row? And on my birthday?

Then, my attitude turned. Hello! It just had to be positive. After all, no God would ever allow that to happen again.

Would He?

The two week wait never felt longer than that two week wait. I never tested before my birthday. I was too scared to see that negative. I did test the morning of my birthday as I wanted to have some idea of what I was going to hear that day.

Mark recorded my reaction as I saw the test. A Big Fat Positive.

And I got a positive beta on my birthday. A God thing.

I'll never forget the moments of that birthday in 2011. Never. I was floating on air. It was the best birthday ever and I hold onto that.

Of course we know a couple days later my world once again crashed. But for one birthday, it was amazing.

And almost 8 months to the day of that positive pregnancy test, our sweet daughter was born. Had I conceived Hannah in my own womb, that could've been Hannah's positive pregnancy test.

And yet, in some ways, it WAS her test. It was God's way of telling us we were going to have our baby, just not in the way we thought.

I have never watched that recording after I miscarried. It's been way too hard. One day, though, I will show Hannah the miracle of God that day. How He can show His signs in amazing ways and how He can provide in more ways than one.

He gave me my dreaming of being pregnant, of carrying and seeing that pregnancy test and sharing it with the world.

He also gave us the news that we had been waiting to hear for so long--we will be parents.

Sometimes I joke with people that two little babies were traveling from heaven on the same day, accidentally bumped into each other and were transferred to the wrong uteruses that day. My conception date was so similar to Hannah's conception date, almost spot on. It's our little joke that Hannah got lost that day. :)

And yet, she still found us.

This time of year has a lot of emotions for me--alot. Huge ups and downs. I'll never forget the devastating birthday of 2010 and I'll never forget the amazing birthday of 2011. 6 precious babies in heaven, 3 of the babies being the exact same age as Hannah.

On my birthday, I grieve and I also celebrate. My birthday will always be so significant to me, the ups and the downs.

Celebrating Easter

A reason for my infertility

I was recently reading a book about a woman with infertility who went on to adopt 2 children. When her oldest son was a teenager, his birthmother died of an overdose. She went to the funeral with her son where he met his 3 biological siblings. One sibling had been in and out of jail and the other one was an alcoholic. Life had not been good growing up for them.

It was then that she realized the reason for her infertility. If she hadn't struggled with infertility and conceived the way she had wanted to, the son she had wouldn't be the son she knew. He'd be a stranger to her, possibly in and out of jail or an alcoholic. And he would be motherless.

That hit me like one of the books Hannah likes to throw at my head and thinks it's the funniest thing in the world. (For the record, it's not as funny as she thinks it is).

From the little I got to meet and talk with her, I know Hannah's birthmother is a special woman. She wasn't into drugs and alcohol (that I know of) and truly loved (and loves) Hannah unconditionally. She gave her up so Hannah could have a better life.

I won't go into details about her life as I don't feel comfortable doing that so pubically. I'll be sharing it all with Hannah some day but it's really her story to share, not mine.

But without making me sound like Wonder Woman or Mother of the Year (which I know this will sound like that anyway...sigh), if Hannah was with her birthmother now, I know she wouldn't have the life she does now.

Yep, that definitely doesn't sound right but I'm not sure how else to phrase that.

Hannah's birthmother was going through a lot of struggles at the time she chose to give Hannah up for adoption. Not drugs or alcohol (again, that I know of) but other struggles. She had a difficult life.

I often wonder where Hannah would be at if she hadn't been adopted. And it takes me only a moment to be so grateful she is where she is.

I know she would be loved but as far as the rest, being provided for, etc., I just can't be sure.

And as I'm shuddering, thinking of the worst scenario she could've been in, I hug her and hold her and realize why we went through inferility, why we struggled, why we had so many procedures, losses, so many heartbreaks.

We went through it for Hannah. She needed us.

I know she has had opportunities she never would have had if she were with her birthmother. I know she's more stable.

I also know another family could provide even more opportunities and probably more stability.

But what we give her is enough. And the sad thing is, from the information I know of her birthmother, had Hannah stayed with her, I don't know if she would've even had enough.

And that breaks my heart but also makes me so glad she's with us.

I can't help but wonder sometimes what kind of a girl Hannah would be if she was with her birthmother. I'm so proud of the girl she is. She is the most compassionate little girl I know. She's so polite, saying "Thank you!", "Please!", "You're welcome!", etc. Of course not all the time and usually not when I really want her to, making me look like a liar or a complete idiot at times, but that's to be expected...or that's what I tell myself.

Would she still be that polite, compassionate little girl? Would she say "Thank you!"? Would she be the same girl we've fallen in love with? Would her different upbringing have changed her?

Thankfully we'll never know the answers to that.

What I do know is that she does have a better, more stable life right now (there's that Wonder Woman/Mother of the Year thing again) than she would have otherwise.

We suffered for our daughter. We went through a lot of tears, frustration and heartache. But I'd take a bullet for Hannah. I'd suffer 10 times more than I did if it meant protecting Hannah.

When we were going through infertility, it often crossed our minds that it was taking so long. Why did we have to wait 9 years?

The answer is so simple--Hannah wasn't ready. Our baby daughter wasn't ready for us. The birthmother needed us and we needed to be ready for her.

Timing is perfect, even if it doesn't seem like it at the time.

I'll say what I really hated hearing for the longest time: There is a reason for everything.

I'm so blessed Hannah is my reason.