M E R I D I A N     M A G A Z I N E

Childless Women Use Adaptability, Humor
By Kathryn H. Kidd

Letters are still coming in about church members and infertility. Apparently this is an appropriate topic any month of the year —but it especially touches a chord during May, because of Mother's Day.

Our first letter shows that infertility can happen any time ? even after a baby has already been born to the family. As our first reader indicates, secondary infertility is also traumatic. Adoption can be traumatic, too. She has a list of things she has learned from her trials that may help other readers who are facing the same situation.

I don't often get an opportunity to read your articles, much less respond to them, but today's topic is one that I am well acquainted with.  Our biological daughter is almost 13 years old and came to us exactly when we wanted her to.  Then I had a series of medical issues related to reproduction that left me incapable of conception. 

For nine years we coped not only the inability to conceive more children, but also the frustration of lacking the financial resources to seek medical intervention (New York State does not mandate that insurances pay for infertility treatment) or adoption.

We, too, watched with a certain amount of bittersweet celebration as nieces and nephews kept arriving in our siblings' homes, but no more babies came to ours.  Finally we were able to scrape together the financial resources to apply for adoption through LDS Family services and waited a looong time for a call.  Last year we did receive a call for a rather unusual placement. 

LDS family services usually places infants, but in our case they facilitated the placement of a beautiful two-year-old boy.  We are very happy to have a son —a brother for our daughter.  They do indeed talk and sing and paint —and fight —together.  It is (mostly) wonderful and we know that our son has come to the right place at the right time and that the Lord's hand has been with us through all of our frustrations.

Here are some things I have learned:

1. Infertile does not mean barren!  I have several older female friends who have never been able to bear children but who have nurtured me during difficult times.  These are my "significant mothers."  Their good works have borne fruit in my life.  I see some of my good works bearing fruit in the lives of those that I have served as well.

2. Education is the best defense against offense.  When a woman is infertile, many people make assumptions: God doesn't send her kids because they won't make good parents; she did something sinful in the past and is being punished for it; they're not really trying hard enough to have children, and so on. 

   I studied the causes and cures for endometriosis and had some success managing symptoms with herbal therapies, but nothing fixed the infertility.  At one point fairly early on in our struggle, during the course of a blessing for a completely different purpose, a dear friend stopped almost mid-sentence and began to convey information to me about the nature and cause of our problem.  I was assured that the reason my family was different from the family I expected was because we live in a natural world with natural laws and that my infertility was not a judgment or punishment but the result of a natural circumstance.  I have been able to fend off self-blame and any misguided "advice" with the knowledge that I gained from studying my disease and the comfort and reassurance of that blessing.
   

3. It is very hard to adopt a toddler.  No one really understands this unless they have also adopted a toddler.  An adopted toddler does not look, smell or act like family — and to him, neither do you.  We are lucky — our son's birth mom did a pretty good job for as long as she could, and our son is pretty resilient.  He has attached quickly and has relatively few behavioral issues.  But family and friends did not understand why we had to be very careful in the first several months with attachment and caregiver issues. 

   We have had to explain and sometimes defend the reasons for changes in the way we approach our callings and family and social activities.  For instance, we couldn't let our son cling to the niece who had the same color hair as his birth mom, even though he wanted to and the rest of the grandchildren did, because he wasn't ready to cling to me yet.  Extended family thought I was over-reacting when I restricted his access to my niece and some thought that I was going over the edge when I dyed my hair to match his preference.  It solved the problem ? but I'm still not sure that everyone understands that I was doing the right thing.   I ended up feeling very isolated and overwhelmed.

   A mom — even an experienced mom — bringing a new toddler home needs a casserole and a hug just as much as the mom bringing home a c-section newborn.  I know; I've done both.

4. There is such as thing as Post Adoptive Depression Syndrome.  I had serious post-partum issues after the birth of our daughter so I recognized the symptoms of depression quickly and I know how to deal with my anxiety and depression effectively and safely. 

   Adoption is a happy event; a long awaited dream has come true!  But it brings a whole new basket load of stress and change, and things are not a rosy in real life as they are in fantasies about parenting.  Motherhood in general is very, very difficult and the culture we live in is not mother-friendly.  This stress and general lack of community support structures can set off chemical triggers that result in depression, anxiety, uncontrollable anger and/or despair.  Any new mom — adoptive or biological — who is experiencing unusual downs, anger or discouragement should seek a
   blessing and a doctor ASAP.

This is just a brief overview of some of the things I have learned.  I could probably write a book, but I don't have time for that yet!  I'm grateful that you've been covering this issue with such sensitivity and love.  Keep up the good work

Ginny B. in Upstate New York

Thanks for the advice, Ginny. Who knew that you can get post-adoption depression? You've opened a lot of eyes today, and a lot of readers will benefit from what you had to say. (I loved your phrase "significant mothers"!)

These next two letters point out that there are a lot of reasons people may have only one child —or none at all. There are a lot of terrible trials in this life!

I can hear the pain in the letters and my heart goes out to you.  But there was a time when I was jealous of the couples in our ward talking about "trying to have a baby" and all their attempts.  I was fertile and had a husband.  But my husband was gay and wasn't attracted to me.  We were roommates and never touched.  He only held my hand occasionally in public to put on a show. 

When we first married, he tried sex with me but hated it.  I got pregnant with that one attempt and am incredibly thankful for our daughter.  But that was the end of it.  Any couple "trying to have a baby" had something I never would have, yet got all the sympathy.  I felt worthless.

I had a funeral in my head for the death of my dreams of a large family, and even my husband.  (My roommate and co-parent lived on, but my husband was dead.)  And I put my energy into my daughter and tried not to be consumed by grief of seeing everyone else's joy — yet being seen by everyone else as having the perfect family.  Elder Maxwell's talk about the "luxury of self-pity" helped me not to drown in it. 

My life is happy and joyful now, but I remember the pain.  I understand now that my pain isn't to be compared with anyone else's, but it helps me understand many situations and have much more compassion.  I experienced the power of the atonement from the side of the person paying the price I don't deserve for someone else's choices.  Jesus really does carry the burden and give you so much that the price becomes a privilege to pay to get close to Him. 

Don't ignore your blessings.  I have my daughter.  You wish you had that joy.  But if you have a loving husband or wife, you have a joy that I wish for.  Be grateful and treat him/her like a fabulous blessing.  Find joy in Christ and you will have a joyful life.

Blessed in Idaho

Thanks for your perspective, Blessed. It helps us all to be reminded that we should never compare our pain to another's pain — something that is all too easy to do. As a friend told me once, "It's not a contest." Thanks goodness for that!

I have a lot of sympathy for those struggling with infertility. I can only imagine how devastating this could be to live with. I have many friends and family that have had to deal with it. I have found, however, that it can be really hard for those of us with children to relate to those with infertility. Depending on the person, talking with a woman struggling with infertility can be like walking through a minefield. It is so easy to unintentionally say something tactless, clichéd or even hurtful when all we are doing is trying to show our love and concern.

I had a real challenge when I visit taught a sister who was infertile. If you talked to her for more than two minutes, she would inevitably begin talking about her problem. In addition she would become extremely uncomfortable around children. Because of this she excluded herself from a lot of people. The sister needed friends in the worst way, but being around her was draining. It always was about her infertility.

I'm afraid I was not a very understanding visiting teacher. During the same time I was her visiting teacher, my own sister was dying of cancer at age 23. Just a couple of months after she got married she found out she had cancer. The treatments had rendered her infertile and put her into menopause. She wanted so desperately to live so she could be with her husband, but none of the intensive treatments worked. My sister was so devastated that she was going to die and that her husband she loved so much would remarry and have a family with another woman.

This was very insensitive of me, but I pointed out to my infertile visiting teaching sister that my own sister would gladly trade places with her. I was probably out of line for pointing out that there are people out there who have it worse. Nobody really wants to hear that. But I was pretty frustrated that she couldn't see that she really had a lot going for her. I was grieving myself and I had much less patience than I should have had.

At another visit, she asked how my sister was doing and I told her that she had passed away. At the next visit, she asked again how my sister was doing. I had to tell her that she was still dead. I know it was wrong of me to expect compassion or understanding in return as a visiting teacher. I was very struck though at how absorbing infertility can be.

On another note, I also visit taught a grandmother who had 17 children. She refused to go to church on Mother's Day because at that time they always gave out a special plant to the mother who had the most children and it was always her. For some reason, this really bugged her. You can't please anyone.

A reader in the Midwest

Thanks, Midwest, for pointing out that we all have trials, and the trials we have always seem the biggest. It never occurred to me that Mother's Day would be hard for someone who was a mother of 17, but now that you mention it I can see it. We human beings are fascinating creatures.

Read on for a letter from a mother of many ? none of them biological or adopted. 

Just the other day, as we have on many occasions, hubby and I were talking about our children —children that have been in our home and we have cared for. These are not biological children, not even adopted children (or at least in the real sense), but we have adopted them in our hearts. As far as we are concerned, they belong to us.

We are not babysitters; we are co-parents. They spend more time here than they do at home, and we are not satisfied with just having them here and not teaching them what is right and good. When people ask me if these kids are mine, I say yes.

We have been married for 16 years, throughout those 16 years we have done numerous diagnostic things to seek out an answer to our fertility problems, I was told that I would have to seek ways to actively get pregnant, such as artificial insemination. Diabetes didn't help that equation, either. Over the years I have lost my insurance and am not actively seeking fertility solutions. I am not getting any younger either.

Some days I want a baby so bad I can taste it, or at least that is the way that it was. Last year, we had a baby move into our home. A friend of ours, who is a teenager, needed a place for her baby to stay whilst she was homeless and dealing with stuff. He stayed with us for five months. We were ready to adopt him, had gone to LDS Family Services, got the paperwork —and then he was snatched from us to be placed in a family member's home.

I am happy to watch these kids, but its not enough for me, I want to be sealed to them, I want a child to be sealed to, and I don't want to wait until the millennium. I am not happy with that idea. I am not going to accept that. We will see if the Lord has other plans.

There is much more to my story that I feel that I have time to tell at this point, thank you for allowing me the opportunity to tell a little of it.

Sandra Carrillo
Sparks, Nevada

Thanks for your letter, Sandra. It's good to see that you can adopt children without actually adopting them, although I hope you will eventually be able to mother a child you can keep.

Read on for another testimony about informal adoptions:

In our church, many consider motherhood to be the most important thing a woman can do in this life.  Unfortunately, some think that the only way to be a mother is to give birth or adopt children of your own.  I was raised in an active LDS family, but I had a difficult relationship with my parents.  As a youth and teenager, I had many "mothers" in the ward that helped me more than they could ever know. 

My advice to all women who fell that they are not mothers is to "adopt" children from the people around them.  I have adopted people old enough to be my parents, people my own age, and children.  These are people who, for one reason or another, I feel need extra help and love at this time in their life.  I "adopt" them by making an extra effort to help and nurture them, and to share with them God's love. 

In God's eyes, we are all children, and the divine gifts of nurturing and loving God's children are given to every woman.  The most important aspect of mothering is making yourself partially responsible for sharing the love of God with another person.

Anonymous

What a great letter, Anonymous! Thanks for writing.

I always felt that I was born to be a mother.  I was raised as an American Baptist in a tiny town in central New York.  As a child I dreamed of having a wonderful husband and children and living happily ever after.  I grew up, joined the Church when I was almost ready to graduate as an RN, moved to Salt Lake City with two dear friends, and met my future husband at age 25 in 1970.  My dream was ready to begin.

Because I was 25 and he was 27, we decided to start our family ASAP.  Time went by and there was no pregnancy.  Through my work, I met a wonderful OB/GYN doctor who specialized in infertility and the tests began.  My problem was PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome).  I was told not to ever plan on getting pregnant and if we wanted children we would have to adopt.  Nevertheless, we went through about three years of taking fertility drugs, to no avail.

After careful thought, fasting and prayer, the adoption process began.  This was in 1973.  After a home study by the State of Utah DFS, (we had not been married long enough to go through the LDS Church's adoption program) we were told we could have a Caucasian American baby in about three years, or, we could have a Korean baby in about one year.  Since my husband had had a dream during his mission that he would have Asian children, this was a no-brainer! 

About 10 months later, in August of 1974, we became the proud parents of a beautiful 14-month-old daughter.  She was such a wonderful blessing.  I stopped taking fertility drugs and settled in to being a mom.  Then another miracle happened.  After five years of marriage, I was pregnant!  It was a blessing I never expected to come.  So, in September, 1975 we welcomed another beautiful daughter. 

When our bio-daughter was 9 months old we were again eligible to apply for adoption.  By then it was apparent that our adopted daughter needed someone like her in the family, so we had our home study updated and again applied.  This time it took only 7 months and we received another beautiful Korean daughter. 

Our daughters are now 31, 32 and 33.  All are married and so far we have 8 grandchildren —5 grandsons and 3 granddaughters.  My dreams as a little girl truly have been realized —just not the way I thought they would be.  Heavenly Father's plan for us is often much better than our own.  We just need to turn our lives over to Him and let those blessings come.

Margaret Dansie
Sandy, Utah

Thanks for writing, Margaret. I particularly like your observation that God's plan for us is often much better than our own. Sometimes it isn't easy to have faith, but our faith will always be rewarded.

Thank you for including these types of articles before Mother's Day. I hope this isn't too long & may help others:

I started mourning Mother's Day in my mid teens, because that was when I was told I would not be able to conceive children. There have been times I have skipped going to church because it was just too painful to be there. Later I took courage from knowing that others sisters would still be there, some not married and with no children, some feeling heartache because of the experiences they faced with children, and others who had deceased mothers. There were many a times I didn't want the gifts as I felt awkward accepting them. 

Mother's Day seems to be a day that I frequently relate to Sister Ardith Kapp's experience with infertility. I have taken comfort in the reminder that though we are not mothers yet, we are both still worthy daughters of God and that He thinks no less of me as a woman in Zion.

As a young woman I would make items such as blankets for my friends and family for their first born. I felt better about putting myself into something that represented love. It did take me a while before I felt comfortable purchasing cute baby clothes. I never turned down an invitation to welcome new spirits into the world even though I felt awkward about lack of knowledge when playing the games.

I took early childhood education classes to prepare myself for motherhood even though I wasn't sure that would be my opportunity in this life. I even took my prenatal class as if it was my "Lamaze" class and really put effort into it since such would not be my blessing. I knew that these classes would help prepare me no matter the outcome.

There were times when almost everyone around me was pregnant, and when my close friends brought babies home I thought my heart would break for want of a child. I would pray, telling my Heavenly Father that I wanted to be happy for my friends but that I felt so sad inside that this was not my opportunity yet. I received immediate comforting help.

I prayed about scientific means to becoming a mother but felt a distinct "no" answer for me. Later we tried to adopt, but after ten years of trying unsuccessfully I felt a strong impression from the Spirit that it was time to stop. I felt impressed to continue to love the little grandchildren of the already made family I married into and to continue doing family history and temple work. Doing family history and temple work has helped me feel I am helping to give spiritual birth to my ancestors. I often feel them close as I do this and feel a great connection to them.

In time after knowing children would have to wait, I decided to read a book about Spiritual Motherhood. I wanted to understand what qualities I could develop now that could help me grow in this area. I still seek ways to strength & develop mothering skills. I could do this because of the eternal prospective I held in my heart.

I am grateful that I have not withheld opportunities to love children. I have served in all church areas. I have a peace and joy in my heart now that I haven't had since my teen years. There was nothing in my patriarchal blessing saying I'd be a mother, but later received special priesthood blessing that during the Millennial Reign I would have all the blessings of my heart, and be a mother in Israel with no end to my posterity, and that the Lord would withhold no blessing from me. I believe this promise is for every worthy woman.

Marrianne Memmott

Thanks for reminding us, Marrianne, that nothing that is ours will be withheld from us in the next life. That can be a real comfort for those of us who will allow ourselves to be comforted — and it is a choice.

Here's a delightful end to this week's letters. Sometimes the only way a person can deal with a painful situation is with a little bit of humor.

After almost six years of marriage and five years of trying, we still have nothing. We have a failed IVF and no miscarriages or anything, except heartache. I teach preschool and have always wanted to work with children, since I was six. I now teach nursery in Primary, too!

I have dealt with this over and over, and the worst is when the same sister comes up once a month and asks if there are any babies yet. She likes to remind me that her family had to get her drunk for her to be relaxed enough to get pregnant. That is not really advice that can help me.

However, I do want to share the best advice I ever got from a friend. When people ask you when are you going to have children, you simply answer, "Thursday."

Coping

Thanks for a great letter, Coping. I wish I'd thought of the Thursday response myself.

We still have letters in my email box on this subject, so look for more infertility letters next week. Meanwhile, if you have suggestions for another topic, send your email to circleofsisters@meridianmagazine.com.  Put something in the subject line that will let me know your letter isn't spam.  And when you write, be sure to include your full name, city and state or province or country. (If you'd rather be semi-anonymous, sign your name as “A Reader from Michigan” or “Sandy from Timbuktu.” The important thing is that we hear from you.)

Until next week — Kathy

“People need dreams. There's as much nourishment in them as food.”

Dorothy Gilman