I’ve been trying to figure out how to write this for weeks. It feels harder for me to put anything on the page when I’m so attached…so emotional. My writing process takes time and I usually share the hard stuff once I’m through it a little. Partly, because I try not to focus (dwell) on anything that makes me feel low and partly because it’s hard for me to hear (read) your responses when the wound is open.
I tried really hard to be open about my grief after my mom died. And I was…in shorter posts on my social media platforms. But the essays I shared on here…those took time. Time to grieve, then process, then write, then wait, then reapproach, then share. But, I did share and I’m proud of that. It’s important for me to talk openly about the hard stuff so that no one feels alone.
I thought I’d do the same through my journey with infertility. But that was so hard. And once it was over, and I was pregnant, the hard stuff sort of disappeared. I tried to write about it a few times, but it was just SO messy. Because fertility treatments are messy and horrifying and painful and, because there isn’t any other way to put it, torturous. I think I will share what I wrote, once I have the nerve to go back and read about my experience through my own words.
So why am I talking about this now? Well, I’m ready to share that I am starting fertility treatments again this week. (Cringe.) And this time, my plan is to write through my experience. Because it is too important to hold in. Because it is too painful to ignore. Because it’s too exhausting to hide.
It took 9 years to get pregnant with Lydia. We tried on and off for the first seven and did everything we could the last two before enduring months of fertility treatments. We eventually had success with our 4th IUI. I’m more grateful than I could ever put into words that we found success with treatment, but I won’t sugarcoat it. The treatments were horrific. The hormones alone were enough to, quite literally, drive me insane. They made me unbelievably angry, so much so that I actually wanted to leave my husband. (If you know us, then you know how outrageous this is. Cody is the best man I know and I love him with every ounce of who I am.) While I had all the hope in the world that we would eventually have a baby, the hormones made me feel hopeless and anxious and completely alone.
Of course, this time will be different for many reasons. First, I know what to expect. I’m not really sure that makes it easier, but maybe I’ll feel less crazy this time around because I’ll remember that it is all part of the process. Second, I know how big the payoff is. Before Lydia, I had no idea what it meant to be a mom. Now, it is the most important part of me and I would do anything- go through anything- to have another baby.
But I won’t pretend that because I know what to expect I’m not terrified. Cody and I have talked about treatment for months, but we hoped that we wouldn’t need it. We’d heard about many people who struggled with infertility before they become parents but were able to conceive naturally with their second. So we hoped and prayed and tracked and did everything we could. Each failed pregnancy test became harder and harder to read because it was all so reminiscent of our 9 year struggle. After another failed attempt in September, we decided we would try just one more time before seeking treatment.
It was a tough month. My mood has been up and down in anticipation of what another failed pregnancy test would mean. Lots and lots of tears. Many sleepless nights. Loads of fear. And skin-crawling, anxiety. And this morning, another failed pregnancy test.
I’m trying to keep it together. I don’t have the luxury of falling apart this time. Lydia needs me. That will be the hardest part. I can handle the hot flashes and night sweats and nausea and acne and weight gain and loss of sleep. But the anger and the panic attacks and the despair- those will be the hardest to work though. Because while it is worth all of this to have another sweet baby, I am already a mom and my little girl needs patience and positivity and love.
So, that’s it. That’s where I’m at. I’m scared and unbelievably sad that I have to do this. But I’m also hopeful and excited to know that I will have another baby to love on. I spent the morning crying after I read that test and I came downstair to see my girl sitting in her high chair, dancing in her seat as she ate breakfast. I just thought- I CREATED THAT. And I’m so honored to be her mom. I can do this again.
I’ll try my best to share this with you. I’m hoping that it will be a quick journey this time. But I can’t know that. So I’ll do my best to trust in God’s timing, to focus on the outcome, and to love on my baby girl and sweet husband through it all.
Here….we….go….
<3, Di
Diannah Killian 
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