Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Death of my Dream

Today sucks. 

After a really long day of flying across the country and then up to Alaska with little E in tow, we rolled out of bed to head to my appointment with Women's Health aka OB/GYN at the hospital. 

Originally I made the appointment in the hopes of getting a referral to a local doctor who might do some injectable cycles with IUIs. In the military system, this takes an appointment with your primary care doctor to get a referral to OB who will then refer you to an outside doc. I knew going into it that there are no Reproductive Endocrinologists in Alaska which doesn't really matter since IVF is not covered by my insurance. However in the few months that have passed between waiting for my various appointments, I have come back around to question whether or not it's feasible for me to safely carry another child. So in the end, this was the main topic for today.

The doctor was quite kind in giving his assessment in a way that respected our right to choose our own path. He didn't flippantly say adopt, but instead acknowledged that every path to a child for us will be difficult. 

I think today I just accepted the fact that to have another child myself would be a bigger risk than I'm willing to take. Between the financial and emotional risk, it just seems too large of a hill to climb. While I think we have a handle on the types of treatments that would get me pregnant (donor eggs or donor embryo), it would still cost thousands of dollars to simply get me pregnant. Of course, knowing us, there would also be some failures which would continue to squish our hearts just a little bit more. This would be followed by a pregnancy that would definitely require a cerclage and most likely end up in with a preterm delivery meaning NICU time and health issues for my child.
Besides these things, the toll of the worry and stress on my husband would be considerable. I think it is often much harder to be the one that is worrying rather than the one enduring. If I were to carry again, the doctor said we would need to plan on several months of bed rest. 

Contemplating this just makes me feel selfish. I want to do this because the birth experience was amazing. Seeing baby E for the first time was the most joyous moment of my whole life. I want that again. The cost of what it would take to get that dream? I think it is too much.

When I walked out of that office today, I felt like I just knew. I knew that this wasn't the right thing to do. So what is?

It felt like the death of my dream.



  1. oh I'm so sorry to hear about your news. I know that you must feel crushed! but there are still options and now you have to figure out which ones you will pursue, and if you adopt, there can be that same feeling of seeing the baby/child for the first time too!

  2. I'm sorry to hear that:( That is really difficult. It sounds like you are making the right decision considering your situation, but it doesn't make it any easier. (((HUGS)))

  3. wow what a loaded post. I'm so sorry about this situation for you :( What a hard thing to be dealing with. I am glad, at least, that you feel the right answer- that you know what you should do. While the answer can bring so much grief, for me personally, the not knowing what to do is more difficult in many ways. Not trying to take away from your sorrow by saying that. It IS like the death of a dream. When we tried to begin the adoption process they told us that we weren't ready because we clearly had not grieved the fact of not having biological child. I imagine this situation is similar in SOME ways- you are grieving the loss of an experience that you so desperately want. Anyway, I'm rambling. I get that way more during a 2ww, eek!

  4. I'm so sorry baby girl! Please look into the face of little E and feel the warmth. It doesn't replace the desire for another child, but what a wonderful blessing/addition he is to your life!! (And his grandparents)

  5. This just makes my heart ache for you - I'm sorry that baby E will be your only birth experience. However, it is somewhat comforting that you've come to the conclusion that it's not the right thing for you...

    Have you looked in to an adoption agency in Alaska? What about a surrogate?

  6. I have been contemplating this very thing...I am thinking about you as we both deal with this. HUGS.

  7. (my blog doesn't show up in reader because it's private. I think google should figure out a way to make it show since if you are in reader you are clearly logged in, but oh well!)

  8. I'm sorry you have to process such hard news. But only time will tell what it right, what feels right, and what makes your family whole. I hope you have peace in getting to that place, no matter what it is.

  9. My throat just tightened as I read this. I'm so deeply sorry, friend. This is a ridiculous kind of crossroads, just unfair and difficult. There's no easy answer, just one that is right for you and your family. We're here for you, and we've got your back. Hoping that some peace and clarity finds its way to you, and sending you a hug through this ol' interwebs. X