8 Years

8 years ago, we went for a walk in the woods behind our little base housing townhome. As we were walking we talked about Brandon's upcoming deployment, how broke we were, and when we wanted to start a family. Coincidentally, I was down to my last few birth control pills. We had less than $10 in the bank and knew that we had to head to Walmart to pick up my prescription. But... what if we didn't? What if I got off of birth control and we just... Saw what happened? 

We went to Walmart, and in true Brandon & Harmonee fashion, we decided at that final minute to buy Butterfinger ice cream instead of my birth control. And that was it! We were taking the first steps towards starting our family. 

I started my period shortly after getting off of birth control, and then we had one cycle to "try" before Brandon left for 7 months. I started my period the day after he left and I remember crying in our downstairs half bath. Little did I know, that first disappointing "not pregnant" was only the beginning.

Here we are, exactly 8 years later. We did 4 unsuccessful medicated cycles earlier this year, and after the 4th one in June failed I felt so hopeless. When we started those treatments, I was really sure one of them would work. For the first time in years I felt like we were exactly where we were supposed to be and I was hopeful. The process of going through infertility treatments broke down walls I spent years building so that I would have the will to get out of bed and keep living my life. The breakdown of those walls put me in a really vulnerable place emotionally and I'm still trying to figure out how to be okay. 

I was supposed to have a follow-up appointment with my infertility doctor at the beginning of September, but I canceled the appointment. I have been seeing a functional medicine doctor and after realizing all my hormones are completely out of whack, we decided to work on regulating those instead of putting a $20,000+ IVF bandaid on them, with no guarantee it would be successful. 

It's hard to be in this place. The reality is I don't know that we'll have kids. It can be hard when people tell you, "I know your time is coming! Somehow, you will be parents!" But... I don't know that. I hope for it, and I pray every day it will happen, but I don't know it. I know so many people who just know they have babies waiting. They've had divine, spiritual confirmation, and I know more than one person who has had a very vivid dream with a specifically named child. I've never had that. I've never received an answer to "Will I?" and that's a hard reality to grasp. 

We gave ourselves a cutoff date. It's hard to say that after a certain point in time we just... won't try anymore. But I also know we can't do this until it isn't physically possible anymore. I also know I don't want to wait until I'm 40 to start having kids. Had we gotten pregnant within the first year of us trying, we would have a 6 or 7 year old. In all reality, we would probably be done having kids, or close to it. And instead we haven't even started. It's a hard reality for me to grasp and even though I feel like I've come a long way emotionally, there are still days and events that bring me to my knees. Sometimes I wonder, if I could go back, would I tell that Harmonee how hard it would be? Would I warn her so she would be prepared, or start getting help sooner? Would I help her know how to advocate for herself so doctors would listen? Or would that just have deterred me from trying?

So, I don't know what's next, really. We're working on regulating hormones and getting our bodies to a healthier place so we can optimize our success, with or without infertility treatments. It's hard because no matter what direction we go, it requires time. And time is the one thing in this process that there just isn't enough of. But we're here, and we're trying. We're praying for answers and results and doing our best, in the mean time, to live our lives to the fullest.

Love, Harmonee 

My Moon

 I was watching the latest episode of This Is Us the other day, and connected so deeply to the story they told. In the episode, they tell part of Uncle Nicky's story. After returning from the Vietnam War, he suffered with PTSD, depression and numerous other mental problems. He lived in a trailer by himself for decades, until he was found by his niece and nephews. Several years later, his nephew Kevin had twins, and named one of the twins after Uncle Nicky. Nicky traveled across the country by plane to meet his namesake; the first time he had flown since returning home from the war in 1971. Late one night he snuck into the twins' room and told them about Neil Armstrong walking on the moon. He explained to them that one day, even visiting the moon was an impossibility, and the next, we were walking on it. He talked about his difficulties in life, and how he had always been alone. He told them how he had just resigned to living life stuck in the same patterns and never really going anywhere, until they were born. "You're my moon", he told them.

When we had been trying to get pregnant for about two years, we started realizing we weren't going to have an easy time. I started to struggle, a lot. It made me incredibly sad, and sometimes even angry, to watch everyone around me get pregnant with ease. I hated going to church and being asked when we were going to have kids, I hated that I was always called to be in the nursery or the primary, I hated that people I knew who didn't even want kids were having kids, and I wanted to punch everyone who complained about pregnancy or their kids right in the face. I hated basically everything that had to do with kids. This was weird for me. I have loved kids my whole life. I built this wall trying to keep myself from being angry but it just made me depressed. And then my little sister got pregnant. 

When she got married several months prior, my husband told me I needed to prepare myself because them being married meant they would probably be having kids soon, and possibly before us. I told him I knew, but I still thought in the back of my mind that we would be first. We had already been married for 4.5 years at that point! I just knew I would have the first grandbaby. But I didn't. Those next few months were some of the worst for me. I laid in bed almost 24/7. Brandon did the dishes, washed laundry, and pushed me to get out of the house on the weekends. I was so frustrated because I was so excited for my sister; I was so excited to have a nephew! But I was so sad that it wasn't me. The conflicting emotions that come along with infertility are one of the most frustrating parts. It's hard to be so excited for someone but still so incredibly sad for yourself, and I certainly didn't want my sister to know I felt that way. As time passed, I got more excited for him to be born, and less sad for myself. But I started to get scared. I was so scared that I would walk into that hospital room and my heart would break. I was scared that I wouldn't want to hold him or that I wouldn't develop a bond with him because of my own heartache. I prayed for weeks, and the whole airplane ride home, that when I held him all I would feel was love. I got to the hospital and he was out having tests done. They wheeled him into the room and I remember my little sister saying, "Your aunt wants to meet you!" And that was it. All those feelings were just.... gone. No sadness, no heartache, no anger. Just an incredible amount of love for this tiny little boy. The next two weeks I got to spend time snuggling him and staring at his perfect little face, and after that everything was different.

I stopped being angry every time someone else got pregnant, or complained about how tough their pregnancy or motherhood was. I stopped unfollowing my friends with babies. I stopped noticing every single pregnant person everywhere we went. I stopped being so incredibly sad that my life wasn't what I wanted it to be. This isn't to say that I'm great now. I certainly still have really hard days and I have a lot of moments where I am so frustrated that I'm still stuck in this place. But I don't let it control my life anymore. I still battle depression and I still have days that I barely get out of bed, but I don't spend my time wishing that my life was different. 

Sometimes I feel silly for thinking it, but there have been a lot of moments when I have looked at Tell and thought, "God sent you here for me." I think a lot of people in our family needed that little boy for a lot of different reasons, but he saved my life. He healed my heart in a way that even my own babies couldn't. Hallee had to have babies first, because I had to get to a level of peace in myself so that I wouldn't continue to harbor negative feelings through this process. And then, when Hallee announced she was pregnant with Castle, I was so freaking excited. I didn't spend one second feeling angry or sad, and I think that even surprised me a little bit. I feel like I've finally reached a place where I can not only not be sad, but I can be really excited and happy when my friends and those around me find out they're expecting. Babies are a miracle, every single one of them. I know God sent that little boy down here, at least in part, so that my heart could heal. 

Tell Bug, you're My Moon.

Love, Harmonee