For the first spotlight, I want to highlight my friend Amber Land. I met Amber during my grad school days at Ball State University. She is a wonderful mommy to two miracle beautiful little girls. Please join me in celebrating her and her husband on their journey to parenthood.
My name is Amber Land, and I have been happily married for almost 5 years now. I have two precious little miracles Layden and Jensyn, ages 2 years and 9 months. You could say we are tired all the time. We live in a time where our days are long but our years are short. But I would not trade the tantrums, tears, or long nights for anything. Because we prayed for this. We prayed HARD for this. We prayed for the days where we could argue with little versions of ourselves and the messes that never seemed to be cleaned up.
Eight years ago when I met my husband, we talked of a family. Two, he had said. One I had said (we can see who won that one). We got engaged and our dreams were becoming a reality. But there was something in my mind that knew, somehow, just knew that our journey to have a baby would be difficult. So before we were even married, we began the journey to try and become pregnant. I’m not sure why I knew that it would be hard, but it was. SO HARD. Lots of negative tests. LOTS of tears. Why. Why was this happening? After all my friends could seemingly get pregnant from just being sneezed on by their spouse. A year later we went to the doctor. “I suspect you have PCOS” she had said. Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. A disease that affects everyone differently. But typically, it comes with weight gain, extra/losing hair, pain, and infertility. After tests it was confirmed that I did have PCOS. All the sudden our options were laid out in front of us. Only 3 choices. Clomid, Insemination, or IVF.
Interesting enough part of PCOS is not having a regular cycle. So once we had made the least expensive option of trying Clomid, we then had to wait for a cycle so that I could ovulate. So we waited. 2 months later finally this was our chance. I took the meds. Waited 2 weeks. Negative test. Waited another 2 weeks. Negative Test. 2 more weeks another negative test. We concluded that this time was not our time. Why? Why was my body failing at doing the one natural thing it was made to do? Why was it failing to do the one natural thing with the help of medication? So 3 months later round two of Clomid came and went. More failed test. MORE TEARS. So many tears. We began to lose hope. My friends didn’t know how to talk to me anymore. After all they were already on child number 2. But I found a friend in my husbands’ cousin. She and her husband had struggled with fertility and she became my person. She knew the tears I was crying and knew that it wasn’t fair. She was who I held on to during the hard times. And to this day, she’s the one who I don’t have to hide my feelings from. Ever.
The questions were harder to answer. “When are you having kids?” “Working on it,” was always my response. They had no clue that their questions were hard to answer. We chose not to tell his family of our struggles. That was hard. They didn’t know how much we were struggling. This was his decision and I respected it. I told my mom because after all she's my mom. As much as I loved her support, I struggled with her responses: “God has a plan for you and its just not your time.” She meant well, but it hurt me to hear. “Mom just tell me it sucks and that it's not fair.” This is what I wanted to hear, NEEDED to hear. The whole thing was so overwhelming. Family watching you struggle, friends not truly understanding, and others who didn’t know. I felt like I failed my husband, failed as a woman. He never made me feel like it was my fault. But I felt like he could never understand how I was feeling. Because HE wasn’t the problem. I was. I felt overwhelmed and alone.
Round three began. The doctor had said, if it doesn’t work this time we may need to look at other options. We were fresh out of college trying to buy a house and had little money. Could we afford to try and have a family if this didn’t work? Week 2. Negative test. Week three there was a wedding, so I took a test before the day began. Negative. I was losing hope with every negative test. And then week, 6 I became car sick. I was never car sick. But I had an ear infection so maybe my equilibrium was off. Another wedding day. Another test. POSITIVE! I HAD A POSITIVE TEST Y'ALL.
I cried. I cried HARD. My husband cried. We were going to be parents. But wait, let’s take another test because I need to know! POSITIVE. August 7, 2015 at 7:30am is a day I'll never forget. After an ultrasound and blood test confirmed we were on cloud 9. 9 months 11 hours and 19 minutes later, our daughter Layden was born. It happened for us. We were parents.
Once we were ready for baby #2 we skipped the year of trying and went straight to Clomid. 2 cycles later Jensyn was conceived. Though our journey with her was much shorter, there were still negative tests and heart wrenching days.
In the years since, I have had a couple girls reach out to me knowing I had PCOS after a FB post and ask me about my journey. I chatted with them through their own personal journeys and was their biggest cheerleader when they finally were able to conceive. We formed a sort of bond that I don’t think anyone else can understand unless you’re a part of an unfortunate club that no one wants to be in.
We aren’t alone.
It's HARD.
But through this whole thing, I’ve learned that I am not alone.
Thank you so much Amber for sharing your story.
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