Infertility Series: Path to Parenthood

Becoming parents was not easy for us. To begin, I had been single for a long time. I traveled the world, often in dangerous places, and thought I might die 6 different times. So for starters, I’m glad to be alive. Two months before my 35th birthday, I got married. I knew I was old as far as fertility is concerned, but two of my sisters have 13 kids between them, and in all my life, I never expected to have difficulty with pregnancy. That was the first shock. I can conceive easily. I’ve been pregnant 5 times, but I’ve never given birth. We never made it past the first trimester. Our first pregnancy, I was sick as a dog for 3 months, constantly dizzy and miserable. I kept telling myself, “It’s going to be worth it.” I had put a sign up by my desk saying, “It’s going to be worth it.” It wasn’t, and taking that sign down was painful. One of the most tormenting things to me was this weekly email I got which shows you the development of your baby in the womb. It tells you, “This week your baby got eyelashes,” and so forth. That is HELL to receive when you flushed your baby down the toilet. There was no way to unsubscribe from that email, and I saw comments from others in distress complaining about it. I had my husband check my emails and delete those before I got online. Getting pregnant must also put you on some automatic mailing lists. We got horrific reminders of our loss in the mail when department store ads said, “Your baby is turning one! Come get discount photos!” What an ‘in your face’ reminder of tragic loss.

I went to a variety of doctors, and one of the many devaluing things I experienced was how several medical personnel refused to value your pregnancy as a life, and as a loss. One woman looked at me sternly and said, “Miscarriages are normal. You need to get counseling and get on with YOUR life.” She told me being upset about this was a problem. This was after our 2nd miscarriage. As I understand it, once you’ve miscarried 3x, it’s the magical number to get help as ‘high risk’ or something. So I looked straight back in her face and said, “So my goal is one more miscarriage so someone will help me?” She was not pleased with my comment.

The first time I felt VALUED when I miscarried (our 5th one) was when we visited at Pope Paul VI Institute. They actually said, “We’re sorry you lost your baby.” That was one of the most healing things I could have heard. Even though we lost our fifth as well, it was not nearly as painful, because I felt a compassionate response from the medical team. They even sent a card. Basically, YOU LOST SOMETHING. WE ARE SORRY.

To be utterly honest, after my first miscarriage, finding out I was pregnant the next 4 times was not exciting. The first time you’re pregnant, there’s excitement. Hope. Losing our first was devastating. All the dreams that awaken about having a baby, those skyrocketing emotions, took a hard beating. I was very cautious with my heart with my next pregnancies. I hoped and prayed much. I took care of myself, got all the zillions of shots in the back side. But my heart did not have joy. I was protecting it.

It was either my 3rd or my 4th pregnancy that I really thought was going to go full term. Just a sense in my heart…so that one also hit harder than the rest. Once, I miscarried on Halloween. A close friend was incredibly good to me. She let me call her on the phone repeatedly between my runs to the bathroom, and I wept with her as I said goodbye to that little life. I wish pregnancies could just be ignored, but they mess with your body and emotions, so you just can’t act like you’re not pregnant and protect yourself from the devastation. You’re IN it.

During the years of miscarriages, my husband and I were also completing adoption paperwork. With my age in mind, we intended to give birth first and adopt later. Adoption was always a part of both of our hearts—even before we met. So it was never something we ‘resorted to’ as I’ve heard some say, “If we have to, we’ll adopt.” Technically, you’re not allowed to do adoption paperwork while pregnant, so we started in between some of our miscarriages and made sure we didn’t get pregnant during that time (also an emotional battle, in that your bio clock is ticking as you wait). At least pregnancy has a time frame. Adoption doesn’t, so it messes with you on another level. We know someone who had three children during our first adoption process. Yes…also hard.

When you’re in this heart-ache waiting mode, you’re grieving and in agony, while trying to go about daily life and have a cheerful spirit overall. I’ve never wanted to mope around and have a pity party, but genuine grief also exists. Even while single, I wanted to make the best of that season. The ‘waiting mode’ for marriage or parenthood does not have a guaranteed end, so the unknown is a weight as well.

If I had written this closer to the season in which I lived these things, I’m sure it would have carried more emotion. I now have a 6 year old who has been home with us for 5 years, and a 2 year old who has been home just a year. Life is entirely different. The empty space in my ‘mama heart’ is gone. I almost didn’t get this blog post written, because my life is consumed with my ‘littles.’ I do cherish the simple things with a deep sense of gratitude. Watching my kids go down the slip-n-slide. Rocking my littlest one, or tucking my big boy in at night. I’m sure many parents treasure these moments. And if parenthood had come easily to me, I believe I would have valued these moments as well. Somehow, knowing deeply in my being that this season could have very nearly NOT become a reality almost makes me stop and relish these sweet times in disbelief.

I have a ton of compassion for those going through similar struggles, or any kind of loss. My childhood friend just died of cancer this week at 43. I have not lived her path, but my own hardships make my heart unfold for her grieving family in a more raw way than I think it could have before. Kinship in suffering? I don’t know. Finally, I’ll say that the reality of God’s loving presence and His deep, genuine healing to the pains of my heart is a gift beyond worth. He has been with me through this whole thing. Good, bad and the ugly.

P.S. Ask a friend struggling in this area to cook and deliver meals for the sick or those grieving the loss of a loved one. DO NOT ASK THEM TO MAKE A MEAL FOR A FAMILY WHO JUST HAD A BABY. It's like sticking forks into your heart.

Katja Starkey is the director of Touch theNations, established in 2004. In June of 1999, Katja began traveling abroad doing relief work after 5 years of teaching sixth grade in the inner city. She went to 12 countries in 12 months, serving in natural disasters, places of oppression and war zones. The next three years, she traveled part time and substitute taught when home. In four years, she went to 36 countries. Returning to the classroom, she could not forget the people she had met and the enormous needs they faced. She founded Touch the Nations in order to connect the world at home and the world abroad, sharing awareness, resources and hope. She resides in Omaha with her husband, Jonathan, and two children.