The Mom Crowd

The journey down the road of infertility goes down many paths. Our society mostly understands and acknowledges the infertility of those who have never had children. Few people even realize that many couples, as many as 20%, who have had one or more children, may struggle with what is called secondary infertility. Secondary infertility is basically the inability to get pregnant or carry to term a subsequent pregnancy after having a child.

My personal story started long before I ever met my husband. At the age of 16, I lost an ovary to an aggressive cyst. I was told then that my chances of getting pregnant were slim, especially once I hit my mid-twenties. I married my husband when I was 25 and we were blessed to get pregnant our first month trying. We were devastated when we learned at about 9 weeks that our precious baby had passed. We waited a month, tried again and were again blessed with a pregnancy. This baby is now 4 years old and is one of the biggest joys of my life. Right after his first birthday, we were surprised to find out that we were pregnant again. Sadly, only days after getting the news, we lost that baby as well. From that point, we decided that we wanted another baby and thought that having three pregnancies happen so “easily” must be a good sign and that the miscarriages were terrible and unfortunate flukes. We tried for many months before seeking fertility treatments and testing. Our doctor suggested the Clomid route as the first fertility treatment. After 5 months on Clomid and no success, we basically decided to step back and see what happened. Luckily, the next month, we conceived our beautiful daughter who is now 20 months old. But many couples are not so lucky.

Now we are back on a similar path. The problem with our fertility is mine. I have crazy cycles and a shortened luteal phase (the time from ovulation to period; it must be at least 10 days to sustain pregnancy). Most recently, I suffered from another large hemorrhagic cyst that had to be surgically removed and am now dealing with potentially major complications from that surgery. The emotional toll of our infertility runs deep.

As said previously, most people don’t realize that just because you have one or more children doesn’t mean you can continue to have them without difficulty. Families dealing with secondary infertility often get little to no support from others in their lives. They are instead told “relax and it will happen” or “just be happy that you have the child/children you already have”. While this is VERY common for families to hear, it is not the least bit comforting or encouraging. Secondary infertility is a condition that causes the families struggling with it to deal with loss; the loss of a child, the loss of the dream of having a large family, the loss of the desires to give their child a sibling.

It’s difficult to express true and total joy for our friends who seem to get pregnant (and stay pregnant) at the drop of a hat. Baby showers are painful experiences. Visiting friends after their births are tough. Just seeing one of my closest friend’s pregnant belly brings pain to my heart and tears to my eyes. It’s not a jealousy thing, but rather sadness for the loss in our lives. I wish her all the blessings God can bring to her and her baby, but I so very much long to be pregnant again right with her.

If you are struggling with secondary infertility, there are a few things you can do to help find comfort and support during this difficult time. Visit The National Infertility Association’s website for more information, find support groups, and talk about your struggles with those in your life. The more they know, the more they can understand and be there for you.

Are you struggling or have you struggled with secondary infertility? What has been the most difficult aspect of this struggle for you? What do you wish everyone else understood about your situation?

Photo Courtesy of subnet24

In honor of World Breastfeeding Week, I wanted to highlight a book that offers hope, encouragement, and information that will help women overcome some of the devastating issues of low milk supply.

The Breastfeeding Mother’s Guide to Making More Milk by Diana West and Lisa Marasco has been an eye opening book for me.  As someone who struggled with a low milk supply while breastfeeding, not once but twice, I found this book amazingly helpful as I read it. I heard about it from another birth teacher.  Oh, how I WISH I had known about this book after our third baby was born almost two years ago!  (It wasn’t written 6 years ago when my first was born) I don’t know that all my breastfeeding problems would have been solved but it would have offered me some peace and answered several of my questions.  I love nursing and it is a real struggle for me that I have had so much trouble feeding and sustaining my babies on breastmilk alone.

Making More Milk explains the biological process of how breastmilk is produced.  It  explains how hormones, the mother’s physical development, the baby, and the mother all work together to make a plentiful supply of milk.  This book covers  more detail than any other breastfeeding book I’ve read about problems that can effect milk supply.

This book is FAR more than a “just pump and you’ll increase your milk supply” solution to milk supply problems.  It covers in detail ideas about how to make a plan for managing milk supply, preventing low milk supply, altervative treatments and possibilities for treating low milk supply. It is the only book I am aware of that was written specifically for women who have difficulties with milk supply.  Each chapter has helpful information and things to consider when dealing with milk supply problems.

If you had trouble breastfeeding with a previous child and want to try again but are nervous about trying because you are scared you’ll run into the same problems, I highly recommend this book.  If anything, you will probably gain a better understanding of WHY you have milk supply issues.

Have you ever heard of this book?  Struggled with low milk supply? Scared to try again?  Tell us your story!

Being a mommy is great, but feeling pretty all the time for our men isn’t always easy. I have a wonderful friend, named Beth, who is pregnant with her third baby.  She is due any day now and sent me a comical story that actually happened to her just a few days ago.  I thought it was a humorous look at some of the things we do to make ourselves feel pretty.  I asked her to be a guest writer for this week and share her story with us.

I’ve known Beth for over 10 years now.  We lived together for two years in the late 90′s before my husband and I got married. Beth is an amazing woman.  She is honest, loving, authentic, and the kind of person who makes you feel safe to open up to.    Her children are fortunate to have such a great woman as a mother.

Here is a little about Beth:

My name is Beth Hernandez. I live in San Antonio, TX with my husband and three children, ages 5 (son), 2 (daughter), and soon to be born son! In general, I am what many would consider an extreme extravert, though God seems to be balancing that more lately. Though my husband and I feel most at home when our house is filled with people and our schedule is busy, we have learned to set a few emotional boundaries to keep our health and relationships stable! By trade I am a secondary Math, Science, and English teacher. Currently I am a homemaker who tries to keep her toe in the broader Education field through tutoring and short term, very part time contracted teaching positions (like a summer program called Jumpstart through the University of Texas system or some private school affairs). I home school my oldest kids, which is great fun! I love to read and share what I’ve read with others. I enjoy writing, and I am learning to share that with others. My husband and I are an active part of our church community.

Confessions about being 9 months pregnant and waxing…

Some ideas are better left un-tried when one is 9 months pregnant. Case in point: waxing one’s belly. Background on this adventure may or may not be necessary, but just in case, when I was in my early and mid twenties, I thought it extremely important to have as little body hair as possible. The reason for this is that one never knew when one would meet the man of her dreams, and potentially run away to get married very spontaneously, or if one would find herself in the hospital stripped to her undies for some terrible surgery situation wishing all that hair wasn’t so thick and exposed. (By the way this is the same logic for wearing matching bra and underwear sets!) An added bonus for hair removal was that I was always prepared for spontaneous swimming situations (though I can’t recall if those ever really happened spontaneously). So I engaged in the painful ritual of waxing certain “bikini” areas when necessary. I’m sure I had a formal process for this feat, though it eludes me at present.

The truth about getting married—even if one does run away to Lake Tahoe very spontaneously to do so—is that eventually one falls into a comfortable routine with her dear husband. This is especially true after having children. Now please don’t interpret this as not looking my best for my husband; I continue to make the effort to be as beautiful as possible for him. Realistically though, as the budget got tighter, things like waxing gave way to razors for cost purposes, and some days making the extra effort to remove all the hair was not as important as taking time to deal with the emotional and spiritual needs of my young children and actively loving my husband in many good ways. I also began to realize, in the particular case of my own husband, that my hair removal process on the whole was more for my security and self image than his pleasure.

Having exposed all that, I come to today. Today, I am 39 and ½ weeks pregnant with our third child. My belly is extended farther than I care to describe. I have been bemoaning the hair on the lower section of my belly since it fell exposed under my maternity blouse to my 2 and ½ year old daughter when she ran to hug me last week. She said it was “pokey” when her cheek rubbed against said belly. I’m not sure that this “pokey” hair is terribly noticeable to the average adult, but small children “tell it like it is,” and I felt that shaving was just too dangerous a venture at this point (due to limited visibility and coordination—which may have been a good reason to forgo the waxing, as well). So when I went to Target today, to buy a few household items, I stopped in the beauty section to find some wax. I decided I owed this “indulgent luxury” to myself. It had been about 5 years since I subjected myself to the torture, and had clearly forgotten the painful process.

Tonight, after everyone in the house was asleep, I removed the wax and sticks and directions from the package. I read them carefully, noticing it was not exactly as I remembered, but things change some in 5 years. I microwaved the wax container for 30 seconds, which should have deterred me then and there. Our microwave does not like certain items (like butter, and apparently wax). I had to flee the kitchen for fear of my life as what seemed like lightning bolts erupted inside the 15 year old monster microwave. When the timer beeped, I tiptoed back into the kitchen, carefully opened the door, and pulled out my wax. It seemed the right consistency, so I continued with the process.

Back in the bathroom, I set up a mirror on the toilet seat, so I could see the underside of my belly, and began applying the sticky goop in the direction of hair growth. My first mistake was probably spreading the wax on too thickly. My second mistake was leaving the box of fabric strips on the floor. When I leaned over to grab one, my belly stuck to my leg, the wax container fell to the floor, and the spreading stick began to drip all over the toilet seat. As I pulled my leg painfully off my belly, I began to laugh, realizing this is the stuff sitcoms are made of: images of “I love Lucy” and “Anne of Green Gables” dancing in my head. My dear husband sat up in bed at this point to see what on earth was causing me to make such a racket! He rolled his eyes when he saw me and lay back down probably wondering about his choice in women.

Determined, I continued in this venture. I stuck the fabric strips on my belly and pulled. OUCH…OUCH…OUCH! The great unfortunate point here was, again, mistake number one: I spread the wax on thickly. I succeeded in removing no hair but still subjecting my belly to deep pain. (Which by the way should have put me into labor, but I am under the firm suspicion that this baby is too wise to the outside world and has decided he’d rather spend his days warm, well fed, and safe in his current cramped quarters!) I tried again with new strips, only to realize that though I was raw, I still had hair because I had pulled the strips in the wrong direction! Here, wisdom entered my heart and I decided to give up this disastrous adventure. Sadly, mistake number two came back to bite me. Along with the fabric strips, the “soothing oil” was on the floor in the box. I can’t tell you how many places I had wax after finally getting the little bottle from the floor. I might have saved myself the trouble. The oil did not do a great job of removing all the sticky wax from my body (see mistake number one). Between the failed waxing job and scrubbing frantically all over with soap and a scrubby after applying the oil, I am now raw and hairy and unsure of why we subject ourselves to such torture as women…I don’t think I’ll attempt waxing again, unless I can afford a professional and some REALLY GREAT WINE!

Thanks for reading my confession…I felt keeping it to myself would only be self indulgent.

–Beth Hernandez

Okay Mom Crowd, Welcome Beth this week and share some of your stories that happened to you!

I wasn’t feeling very well last night, so it was out of sheer curiosity that I tuned into the premiere of “16 and Pregnant” on MTV.  I’m a mom, I like various reality tv shows, and there sure are a lot about moms these days.  (Did anyone catch the premiere of “Raising Sextuplets“, also on last night?  I thought about it, but decided it was already being done by, oh, I don’t know, another family in America.  Plus twins!)

As a mother who had her first child at age 29, “16 and Pregnant” was pretty tough to take.  The first episode focused on Maci and Ryan, high school students who like motorbikes, tattoos, and multiple piercings.  They also like each other, or did, enough to get pregnant and engaged.  The episode took us on their journey from 32 weeks pregnant to their baby being about 4 months old.   Since the birth occurred just 25 minutes into the show, it focused a little more on the reality of parenting a newborn than it did the pregnancy.

Their story is told through the eyes of Maci, who narrates throughout (sounding like a girl reading a school assignment in front of the class).  During the pregnancy, she seems optimistic and excited about the direction her life has taken, bragging to her peers about her apartment and new couch.  She and Ryan are evidently taken care of very well (financially) by their generous and enabling parents.  The baby’s room was filled with rock & roll onesies and personalized pacifiers.  Maci’s parents even bought the baby a little motorbike for him to grow into in the future.  (Not exactly a helpful baby shower gift for any new mother, but whatever.)  It was clear that Maci thought she and Ryan and their baby would be a happy little family.

Meanwhile, Ryan is nearly speechless all the time and flummoxed about his impending responsibilities as a husband and father.  The more Maci presses him for enthusiasm, the more he shuts down.  “Ryan’s attitude sucks,” Maci complained.  Indeed.  But he’s also acting his age.  She seems to think that because she saved her pennies to buy a couch, she’s ready to be an adult.

While transferring to an accelerated high school so she could graduate sooner (she is, after all, a self-described “overachiever”), she becomes a little celebrity for her baby bump.  I cringed at this part; the students crowded around her like she was Ellen Page in the flesh, and Maci loved the attention.  It was in this brief scene that there was any discussion at all about why she decided to have the baby.  Her reason: “May as well make the best of it.”  I half-expected her to say, “It’s what that girl did in ‘The Secret Life of the American Teenager’, that’s why!”

At 38 weeks, Maci, Ryan, and their parents inexplicably go four-wheeling in the woods.  I just couldn’t believe my eyes.  It could have just been the editing, but right after that, Maci went into labor for 30 hours.

My heart melted for the baby boy.  They named him Bentley.  And he was precious.  Maci & Ryan would squabble about who would change him or feed him or comfort him, and for the rest of the episode, I kept thinking, “Give me that baby, I’ll hold him!!”  Maci stepped up and took her mom responsibilities seriously, even though she’d pepper her conversations with complaints like, “Bentley! You’re ruining [my graduation robe]!”  or “He’s cranky in the mornings, and it gets on my nerves.”  (At least she’s honest.)  For awhile, she deluded herself into thinking she could raise the child, care for an inattentive teenage fiance, take classes in college, and go to dance classes twice a week.  Later, she dropped dance.  As far as I can tell, she is still taking university courses and making the most of her mom’s free babysitting.  Ryan, meanwhile, does nothing other than work, work out, and hang out with his buddies at the bowling alley.

In the end, Ryan admitted he hated coming home to Maci, and didn’t want to be together.  She cried, and I didn’t blame her; she has the weight of the world on her young shoulders.  And as I watched their tale come to a close, Ryan ignoring his worries by getting another tattoo the size of his right ribcage, all I could think was, “THIS is why you don’t have sex when you’re an unmarried teenager.”  They’ll grow up, Maci & Ryan, but I worry for their son, an innocent little life who needs a lot of love.  I am glad this show did not romanticize teenage pregnancy but emphasize the magnitude of its responsibility.

Did you see “16 and Pregnant”?  Would you show this to your pre-teen and teenage children as a cautionary tale? 

Photo courtesy paulbence

This is just my story, I’m still coping…We just found out yesterday that we lost our baby.  I had an ultrasound scheduled last week at my midwife visit to check on dating and also because I was having a little spotting.  Monday night I had more spotting and was looking forward to the sonogram because I was hoping that the spotting was normal and that I would be relieved to see the baby was doing fine.  

We went to the sonogram as a whole family so my husband and kids were there. As soon as she put the paddle on my tummy, I saw the baby but no heartbeat. (I’ve been to a few sonograms so I knew what to look for.)  She didn’t have to tell me because I knew.    The sonographer quietly whispered that we may want to take the kids out.  I looked at my husband and asked if he heard what she said.  I told him with a look and he knew.  We didn’t want to take the kids out because we knew we’d have to tell them anyway and I didn’t want my husband to leave and be in the room by myself.  She asked if we wanted a picture of the baby which was very kind of her. I asked her if she could tell when the baby had died.  I was a little over 11 weeks and the baby was measuring a little over 9 weeks.  She left to go tell the doctor what was going on and to page the midwife on call.

Our 5 year old picked up pretty quick that something was not quite right and asked what was going on.  I started crying and we told the boys that the baby had died. We told him that mommy and daddy were feeling sad.  He came and gave me a big hug and tried to cheer me up by telling me that I would be okay.  He was sad for a minute and then pretty much moved on.  All three boys were more interested in the sonogram machine and how it works.  Their curiousity and inability to really understand what was going on diminished the emotional impact of what was happening.

On the very quiet car ride home, I had a hundred thoughts going through my head.  Was it the Advil Cold and Sinus I took a few weeks ago?  Was it the cold I had?  Was it all the stress of moving? Was it my own doubts of how I would handle raising 4 children? Or how sometimes I felt like all this transition would be easier if I weren’t pregnant? Basically, was this somehow my fault?  Logically, I know this is very unlikely but the thoughts kept coming anyway. I think it is a natural part of the grieving process to ask those questions just to get them out there.

When we got home we made some coffee, let the older boys play on the computer, and sat on the floor with, Graham, the toddler and played blocks with him.  I think we were feeling thankful for the quiet and relaxed atmosphere of being at home.  I turned on the tv and watched The View just to escape the reality of the situation for a while.  It wasn’t until we laid Graham down for a nap that my husband and I had time to talk and process how we were feeling, what we were thinking, and to connect emotionally while the older two were happily playing in their bedroom.  I’m thankful that my husband doesn’t have a “what’s the big deal, you were still in your first trimester” attitude about it.  He is sad too–in a little bit of a different way.  He was excited about this baby and as we have been making all our plans for the future and our big move to England– this little baby was in every scenario.  We cried together and it felt really good to tell him all the things that were going through my mind.  

We called our families and told them the news and then we called friends.  We’ve only had a few of the unhelpful comments that Mckenna wrote about several months ago.  Sure, I know that there was probably something wrong with the baby or the placenta.  Sure, I know that everything will be fine. Sure, I know that God is there in the midst of all this.  Of course, I know that I should be thankful for my 3 healthy boys.  I KNOW that–but it doesn’t take away from the fact that we lost something that is precious to us!  Most of those came from the same person (who of course shall remain nameless and doesn’t read this site).

Our community of friends and neighbors have been wonderful.  One of my husband’s professors (who is also a priest) called last night to pray for me over the phone.  She was willing to come to our house if we wanted and offered to come up to the hospital if we end up needing to go there for a D&C.  A good friend of mine who has also had a miscarriage brought by a meal.  Some other friends have offered meals too.  Another friend brought by some flowers that are beautiful.  Several friends have offered to take the boys for a while.  We have lots of friends praying for us and offering to help in any way that we need it.  We feel deeply loved and cared for.  I have been amazed the care being given by our friends.  They are doing everything they know to do to help us out.  

I’m still waiting for the actual miscarriage.  I had an appointment with the midwife this morning to get a rhogam shot since I am rh-.  I asked her how long it would take for the cramping and passing of the baby to start.  She couldn’t really say one way or another but that if it didn’t happen in the next week I should consider getting a D&C.  I’d rather not go that route unless needed. I am not particularly fond of the idea of someone scraping out my uterus and treating my baby like it was medical waste.  And even though the risks and complications with a D&C are small, I don’t want to do it unless my body doesn’t naturally pass the baby.  

I imagine that seeing the remnants of the baby will be difficult and that I will have moments of grief over the next several months.  I don’t want to go into the pit of despair but I do want to allow myself to grieve when the moments come.  It is easy in a faith community, like the one we are involved with, to feel like I have to put on a positive face about it.  I don’t want to rob myself of feeling sad about something I was very much looking forward to.  

A friend had given us a shadow box after Graham was born and I hadn’t decided what to do with it.  It has been sitting on my dresser, empty.  My husband suggested that we put one of the sonogram pictures in the shadow box as a keepsake for our precious little one.  I loved the idea and am glad to have a memory of our sweet baby.  

When it comes down to it, there never is any perfect thing to say to anyone.  The things I have appreciated the most are “I’m sorry for your loss, May the Lord bring you comfort, My thoughts are with you, I’m sad with you, How can I help?”  The things that communicate that people are along side us in our journey mean the most.  Advice or pat answers, not so much.  

What do you do if a friend loses a pregnancy?

• Offer a meal.
• Call to say your sorry.
• Ask to take the other children for a while.
• Send some flowers.
• Bring by a pint of ice cream.
• Show up to the house and give hugs.
• Write a little note telling the family you love them.
• Offer to pray for them (if you are of that persuasion).
• Offer a listening ear.
• Allow your friend to talk about other things if she wants to.  

I’m sure there are other things to add to the list…feel free to add them in the comments section!  Maybe you found some things helpful when you went through this yourself.  

P.S. In writing this post, I’m not looking for a bunch of sympathy.  Don’t feel like you should or have to say anything!  I did want to write a post that would be helpful for others.  And honestly, I wasn’t feeling particularly inspired to write about anything else.  This has been a little mind consuming as you can imagine.  I feel like I need help dealing with my own kids when my emotional margins are small and fragile!  I’m living in the reality that there are MANY, MANY things to do while dealing with the emotional impact of losing the baby as well as some  bleeding while I wait for the acutal miscarriage.