Infertility to Fertility – The Loss of a Possibility

I hate the term “Loss of a Possibility” but what has been happening to my body lately has certainly brought this about. In a previous post, The Silent Battle of Infertility and Miscarriage, I wrote, “I know what it’s like to suffer with infertility. To try so hard to have a baby yet every time I peed on that stick, it was negative. I know! I feel! I understand! I am sorry!”

One issue that wasn’t discussed was that egg. The treasured egg that we are desperately attempting to fertilize. With infertility, women can either not ovulate and have to force ovulation through drugs, or they ovulate but for some reason there is an issue with fertilization. I am certainly not trying to make infertility sound as simple as this because it’s not. It is extremely complicated in many cases.

For me, I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS). My symptoms have never matched a majority of the symptoms of PCOS but because I had a “ring of pearls” around my ovary, which in essence were eggs (follicles) that attempted to make their way out but were not successful, I was diagnosed with PCOS. I knew I was struggling with infertility but didn’t know the impact until I began trying to conceive my now 10 year old.

When we lost Ruby, her egg was a fluke ovulation. Something I had rarely experienced but I knew the signs and we attempted a pregnancy. It was successful in that her egg was fertilized and life was created but she was not meant for this earth. I was never meant to hold her in my arms. She was never meant to wear the clothes we purchased for her nor sit in the stroller that friends bought for her. Like most people, I was naïve in thinking miscarriage wouldn’t happen to me…that a pregnancy led to taking a baby home. I never imagined my baby being thrown out with the hospital waste.

After a year, we decided to seek medical treatments again in order to conceive. Nothing worked. A last ditch effort was the exploratory surgery which I blogged about in 2012 (post no longer available). Miraculously, we conceived just one month following the procedure with no medical intervention. Another “fluke” egg ovulated and we managed to fertilize it.

In the back of my mind, I felt like this pregnancy would throw me into fertility. While I assumed this would happen, it wasn’t logical. I had been infertile since I was 15. That meant by the time this baby would be born, I would have been “infertile” for 23 years. How possible would it be for me to become fertile after being infertile for so long?

Well, in February of this year, I ovulated. I thought it might have been another fluke ovulation and didn’t think much of it but when I ovulated again in April; I began to wonder if I had become fertile. Another ovulation in May and I am convinced, I am fertile. And now…after saying for over a year that I would never have more children, I am contemplating another pregnancy…another child to love. Something we never considered.

This month, the feeling was overwhelming. I imagine the pull during ovulation to fertilize the egg was only natural as it seems to be dissipating slightly after ovulation but every day, for several moments throughout the day, I imagine myself pregnant or Timmy playing with a sibling. The thoughts warm my heart.

Now back to the initial title of this post…”Loss of a Possibility.” I ponder each egg. Every egg that goes unfertilized feels like a “loss of a possibility.” It feels as if I am flushing children down the toilet. That thought doesn’t even make sense to me as I write it but I feel like I am wasting the opportunity to bring forth new life with each ovulation. Sure, the first ovulation felt like it was a fluke. I never expected to ovulate again, certainly not a month later and definitely not again two months later.

With each egg that goes unfertilized I worry…is this the last egg? Was that my last opportunity? So while I struggle with making the decision to have another child (Can I physically and mentally do this? What if the baby has a disorder or illness or worse, dies? What if I die?).

I am also struggling with the wonder of if I just missed my last chance. I know I would never return to fertility treatments. Ultimately, this isn’t in my control. Only God will bless us with another when He deems us ready. That brings IMMENSE comfort despite the push and pull inside me.

The loss of a possibility has put us in a place my husband and I have never walked before. Is this the cliché’ “road less traveled?” Is this a road that most women travel? I doubt that women who ovulate regularly feel that they are killing possible babies by not fertilizing each egg, every cycle but that’s how I feel. Why? Because there wasn’t a time in my life where I had a choice. If I ovulated, I HAD to try to fertilize it. That might have been our ONLY chance at a child. I have never had the opportunity to say, “Hey, let’s wait until next month, six months, next year.” It was always a race against the clock. “The egg is only fertile for 24 hours, hurry, let’s have sex, make your deposit, we need to do this several times or we will miss the opportunity!”

Yes, that’s what infertility sex sounds like. Intimate huh? So here we are, with the opportunity to choose. Another baby or ??