Fertile 40s: Advocate for Yourself

 

The Promise

When I was ten years old, I confessed to my mother that I wanted to be a twin.  I wanted a twin brother, to be exact.  My mother told me that it was always her dream to have a boy and a girl but that the doctor told her she couldn’t have any more children after she had me.  My mother had names picked out for both the boy and the girl she planned on having.  The girl’s name would be Jocelyn and the boy’s name would be Jonathan.  I told her, “That’s okay, Mom.  When I get older, I’ll have a boy and name him Jonathan.”

 

Three Decades Later 

Life ensued.  And before you know it, I’m 40 and very single. 

(Very Single Definition:  not only are you single but have no current prospects; hope in finding that special someone vacillates depending on the day)

I fell into an extremely hazy funk—the kind where I felt really down but wasn’t able to articulate what I was feeling or why.  It took the help of a therapist to identify the source of my pain.  She said, “I’m not saying this is going to happen to you, but you might need to grieve the possibility that you might not have children.”

Suddenly, I remembered the promise I made my mother three decades ago.  It’s not that I completely forgot it; I just never consciously thought of it.  I teach in my Grief Recovery trainings that all of our unmet hopes and dreams occupy actual real estate inside our bodies.  And this particular dream had not only silently lived in my heart but was now demanding attention.  I worked through that disappointment using my recovery tools and went on living the best life that I possibly knew how.

 

The Wedding. The Marriage. The Pregnancy Attempts.

Five years later, I got married.  Angelo and I, both being in our mid-40’s, decided to start trying to get pregnant on our wedding night.  The dream for a child felt underway.  Friends shared their excitement with me, that they had a feeling I was going to get pregnant very soon if not that night.  I thought the same as well.  But it didn’t go down that way.  I remember being shocked the first few months I wasn’t pregnant.  The shock turned into feeling disheartened.  Every month gave me a fresh dose of disappointment.  But what worried me the most was when in my mind, I switched from hoping to be pregnant to expecting not to be pregnant.  We were told by the doctor that we needed to try for a full year before we could call it infertility and address it as such.  And when the time came to get help, we heard……

• “We don’t even work with women your age.”
• “Based on our experience and by the time someone reaches your age, we have no data to support success for your efforts to get pregnant.”
• “Your eggs are most likely the problem.  You should really consider egg donation.”

Those are a just a few choice conversations from the 10 fertility clinics I contacted in my area.  A doctor friend connected us with UCSF and our journey through infertility felt like it finally had a starting point.  While the process wasn’t all roses, daisies & sunshine, at least we were free from the medical professionals who told us that it was too late and we should give up this little dream of ours.

Mind you, our new, fabulous doctor, that we were grateful to find, was just as cautious as all the naysayers.  But what made her different was that she allowed our faith to influence hers.  

 

Refusing to Give Up

All I knew was that I made that promise to my mom all those years ago for a reason.  All I knew is that God put the desire in Angelo’s heart when he told me while we were dating that he wanted to have children with me.  All I knew is that I’ve been around this block before where none of the circumstances around me support my hopes and dreams and yet I choose to believe; and I decided to believe, once again, that God is good and that He loves me even if this doesn’t turn out the way we want.

We started with a procedure called IUI which didn’t yield any results.  (If you are reading this and had a successful pregnancy due to IUI, please let me know.  Right now, I don’t know anyone who has been successful in this way.)  IVF was next.  I opted to take the “risk” of using my own eggs.  And out of the eight eggs, they found six to be mature enough to create an embryo.  And out of those six embryos, they found one they considered to be viable.

We were provided one shot at this.  That one embryo resulted in my being pregnant with Jonathan Wiley Williams.  I don’t tell this story for it to sound like a and-we-lived-happily-ever-after Disney movie.  I would have been just as prepared to tell this story should it not have resulted in a pregnancy.  My hope for those of you reading this who are going through your own journey through infertility is that you will learn the power of advocating for what you want and to be courageous to follow the path of your dream.  I feel like a contributing factor to the low numbers of successful pregnancies for women in their 40’s is the fact that the medical community scares the hell out of your hopes and dreams.   But please keep dreaming and keep advocating.  As hard as it may be, keep your hopes alive and vibrant especially when it’s all you have to hold onto.

 

Xo,

Jocelyn

P.S.  I have plenty more to say about this but I’ll leave at this for now……..