Hi Friends! Here’s Chapter 3 in the “Backstory of the Photo” series.
If you new to Small Town Girl, I’m telling the backstory to the photo I posted in December. To read it, click here. If you want to read Chapter 2, click here.
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If I was the author of this story, the next chapter would have been written completely different. However, I wasn’t the author. God was.
My final Lupron shot was in August, 1997. It was a rough month to say the least. The depression had set in and I didn’t resemble anything close to the sweet bride I was in 1993. Every day I dreaded going to work. I just didn’t want to go! I wanted to be home taking care of my child, my husband, and my home.
It didn’t make sense for me to quit my job at this point because the income and benefits were good. So every morning, I would get in my car and drive to work, crying and praying all the way there. Before I pulled into the parking lot, I would stop crying. Before heading in, I would fix my makeup and put on a smile, hiding all the pain and disappointment that was hidden beneath the surface. I’d work a full day at my job, get back into my car and drive the hour back to my house, again, tears filling my eyes again once I was clear of the parking lot.
It was a long seven months.
September came along and, with no monthly Lupron injection, estrogen once again filled my body. The awful Lupron wretch was gone and Mr. Small Town had his sweet wife back. By October, we went full steam ahead in doing everything possible to encourage a successful conception.
Mr. Small Town was wonderful and supportive. The medical procedures that were involved were hardly romantic and very embarrassing for each of us. (I’ll just classify the procedures as TMI – too much information. Maybe I’ll go into detail – some day, when I write that book!) We spent countless hours at the doctor’s office and many times we found ourselves cracking jokes and laughing together. What else could we do?!? I was so glad that we appreciated each other’s humor because we certainly needed it during this time.
November came and so did disappointment. We decided to keep at these procedures for another three months and then evaluate our next step. All of October, November, December, and January, I would start at my house, drive an hour south to the doctor’s office, get a procedure or blood work done, drive another hour north to my job, work a full day, and then drive west another hour to go home. It was exhausting. Plus I was taking Clomefene (Clomid) which resulted in some minor mood swings.
The group of people around us was supportive and hopeful. One gal shared her “infertile experience” with me. She was just about ready to start hormone injections when she started reading about Hannah. Hannah is a woman in the Bible who was infertile. Each month she would go to the temple with her husband and pray for a baby. Hannah said that she would dedicate her child to God if He gave her one. God gave her a son, Samuel. Hannah dedicated Samuel to God. (For more of Hannah’s story, it’s in the Bible, 1 Samuel)
The gal told me that she prayed the same prayer as Hannah … and she got pregnant without the hormone injections! She named her daughter, Hannah, after the woman in the Bible.
While I appreciated her story, it made me wonder if I wasn’t praying the right prayer in order to get pregnant. Maybe I should pray Hannah’s prayer in order to get pregnant. It worked for her. Maybe if I fasted and prayed long and hard God would hear my prayer for a child and answer it? I heard that it worked for another gal. What if I went before the pastoral staff and had my head anointed with oil and had them pray over me…maybe that would work?!? What was I doing wrong? How could I appease God to give me a child?!?
I prayed to God. I yelled at God. I cried to God. I so desperately wanted a happy ending to this chapter with me getting pregnant! I wanted my baby to be growing in my belly! I felt like a lunatic because my whole life revolved around monthly cycles, procedures, and disappointments. When was this chapter going to be over? I wanted it to be over.
After the February disappointment came, the doctor wanted to meet with us. She told us that the next step to conceiving would be through In-vitro Fertilization (IVF). I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. In fact, I didn’t hear much of the conversation after she said IVF. Unbelievable! IVF – that was something that we saw on news programs! Now, it was becoming a real possibility for us. How did we end up here? I never ever thought that this would be part of how we would be planning our family! We should have been pregnant by now! It was surreal to say the least. While I sat there thinking about all this, Mr. Small Town and the doctor continued talking but I was oblivious to what was being said as my head was still spinning.
It was 1998 and Kenny and Bobbi McCaughey were all over the news for having septuplets via IVF. As we sat across the desk from the doctor, she mentioned how unsafe and illogical that the mother, Bobbi, decided to carry all of the fetuses as long as she did. Our doctor said that she, as a medical professional, would have recommended selective reduction for Bobbi’s pregnancy. I didn’t hear what she was saying but Mr. Small Town was paying very close attention. If we did IVF with her and I became pregnant with more than three fetuses, she would terminate all of them except for three, but her preference would that I would only carry two.
Mr. Small Town questioned her again about what she said and immediately told her, ‘No Thank You’. He grabbed my hand and literally pulled me out of her office. All I could remember was hearing IVF – not the whole selective reduction conversation. By the time we reached the car, Mr. Small Town was fuming and I was still in shock. He couldn’t believe what the doctor suggested and retold the conversation about selective reduction to me. He said that we were never coming back to this doctor again. And we didn’t.
I will always be grateful to Mr. Small Town for his quick action that day. It showed me just how much he loved me and how strong and ethical his convictions were about conceiving a child. It also showed me his high integrity which was one of the reasons why I married him.
By this time it was the end of February and I wanted to stop the baby-making process. I was done – mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. I started a new job and I wanted to get off this roller coaster and breathe for a while. However, Mr. Small Town took the lead and wanted to keep going.
We reconnected with some friends and found out that they too had trouble conceiving. They did IVF. They got pregnant. Mr. Small Town wanted to try it.
At this point, God had not said either yes or no to all the procedures we had done but obviously, we were getting a ‘no’ from Him. However, maybe IVF would be the ending to part of our story. It was to our friends’ story. Maybe God would give us a child through IVF? That would be perfect! We would tell everyone about our journey and proclaim how God created our child through IVF! What a great ending to the story and we wanted an end to this story.
However, before we decided to embark on IVF, we had some ethical questions to consider. We knew, and firmly believed that God was the Giver of life, no matter what assistance we had with conceiving. We both believed that life started at conception. We knew, and recognized, that each egg that was fertilized, an embryo, was a life – even if it was only at the 2 cell development stage that could only be seen by a high powered microscope. We needed to consider: How many eggs were we going to fertilize? How many embryos would we implant at a time? What would we do with the extra embryos if there were any? What would happen to the frozen embryos if the first three implanted and developed into a full pregnancy? If all the embryos took and developed into a pregnancy each try, we could end up with 15 kids (3 embryos/each procedure)! We searched the Bible for wisdom. We sought out wise counsel. We prayed.
It was April 1998 and we decided to meet with the IVF doctor.
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Friend, Have you wanted to appease God in order to get a prayer request answered? Have you ever wondered how your life can suddenly be at a point where you just shake your head and wonder, “How did I end up here?” Have you ever been faced with ethical decisions as you pursue a dream? I have. I get it.
And so does God
Come back next week and I’ll tell you more of the story.
Blessings to you my friends!
I'd love to hear from you! Leave me comment on how this impacted you