The Life and Lies of Karissa Kim

Just a forewarning, this post is of a very personal nature, and I know that it's pretty taboo to write about it. In fact, I've debated with myself over and over again about whether or not I should write it.

But, I have found that when people open up and talk about their trials it can help so many others. I've seen it over and over again. So much, in fact, that I'm starting to think that's part of the reason we have trials, so that we can relate to and help one another. Who am I to keep what I've learned hidden inside when it could potentially help another?

And I want others struggling with the same thing to know it's ok to talk about, if they want to. I know many don't want to, and that is fine too. I just know that there were many times I wanted to talk about it and I felt like I couldn't because it would be too weird.

Also, I was inspired to write my story because of  this post. You should read it. It's lovely and it made me realize the significance of this quote:
"Friendship is born at the moment when one person says to another: 'What?! You too? I thought I was the only one." -C.S. Lewis

So, this post is mainly for my fellow sisters out there struggling with infertility. I write this in hopes of helping you.

And, if you know anyone who is struggling with it, please feel free to pass this on.

But, even if you’ve never struggled with infertility, feel free to read on. It’s a good story.

I mean, you knew, right? That I struggled with infertility? I don’t think I’ve ever come out and said it on this blog, but I figured that if my many posts about motherhood didn’t give it away that the adoption announcement did.

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s begin.

My story starts WAAAYYY back in October of 2009. Jayson and I decided that it was time to start our family and to our great surprise and delight I was pregnant two weeks later.

But, obviously, this part of the story doesn’t have a happy ending.

At my eight week appointment I found out the bad news. I went to my doctor’s appointment thinking that everything was going to be fine, which honestly was pretty silly of me because I’ve known for as long as I remember that I have a higher chance than most of having a miscarriage.

My mom had this and she had seven miscarriages before me. SEVEN. That’s a lot.

So, at my appointment the doctor said that I had gotten pregnant, but the egg stopped forming really early on and there was nothing in there, which is what always happened to my mom.

To say the least, Jayson and I were devastated. Our whole world came crashing down. 

But, on that day Jayson gave me a Priesthood blessing and I must tell you that I have not felt the love of my Savior that strongly very many other times. I knew He was with us and I knew that together, He, Jayson, and I could get through this.

The few months following were some of the very hardest I’d ever had up to that point. But, I kept clinging to fact that I had gotten pregnant really fast. I told myself that in no time I’d be pregnant again and this time it would work out.

But, alas, winter turned to spring, spring to summer, and I found myself back in October. It turns out I not only have a hard time staying pregnant, but also getting pregnant. And, well, you definately can't stay pregnant if you can't get pregnant,

And, finally, in June of 2011 we began infertility treatments. I don't want to discourage anyone from doing infertility treatments, because I think often you need to in these circumstances. Something in you just has to know if they'll work, because they often do. But, if I'm being honest I must tell you that those 8 months of infertility treatments were the very hardest of all. I thought they would make me feel better because I would actually feel like we were making progress. But, oh how wrong I was. Those months of treatments come with a type of suffering that I cannot explain. With each new treatment came new hope and each time the hope was crushed it got harder and harder. But each month I picked myself back up and I kept telling myself that next month it would work, next month I would be pregnant.

Finally, at the very end of January 2012 I had my last and final treatment, though I didn't know it at the time. When I found out it didn't work I couldn't, for the life of me, pick myself up and get myself to face another treatment. You see, you only get like two days after finding out a treatment doesn't work and then it's time to start treatments all over again and I just couldn't do it.

So, we took a much needed break. During this break I did a whole lot of reflecting.

It wasn't the first time I had thought about adoption. We'd talked about it many times. In fact, we had almost taken that leap more than once, but one little question always held us back. On the LDS Family Services website there is a list of questions that help you determine whether or not you're ready for adoption. I could always answer yes to all of those questions except for one: "Are you ready to let go of the idea of having children through pregnancy?"

And that question made me so mad. Why did I have to give up on ever being pregnant? I've always loved the idea of adoption, but I've always been ok with it as long as I could also have my own. At least one. So, even thought I didn't really think that question made any sense, it kept me from moving forward with it.

But, in the dark days of that February I prayed and prayed and I told Heavenly Father that I was ready. I was ready to accept whatever His plan was for me. I remember saying that if there was still hope in doing infertility treatments that I would continue, but if there was another path I would gladly take it.

The thing about infertility is that there is a point in time where it stops being just about wanting a baby, though it is certainly that and that alone is more painful than anything else I've ever faced, and starts to be about acceptance. It starts to be about being able to accept the fact that you can't create life like others can. It's hearing that conceiving a baby is one of the most miraculous and God-like qualities you can possess and then accepting that you can't do that like so many others. It's about accepting the fact that your life doesn't look like everyone else's. And most of all, it's about accepting God's plan for you.

And, finally, after 2 years and four months, I was ready to accept His plan. It seemed like it happened in a single instance, but now when I step back I can see that it's been a long time coming. Everything that had ever happened seemed to lead me to that very moment. I remember telling Jayson that I was ready, that I had given up on ever bearing children. When I said it out loud it sounded like such a sad statement, but it felt SO good. As soon as I said it I knew. I knew I was free. Free from the bonds of infertility that had held me down for so long. I felt like a great burden had been lifted from me.  Sometimes I still can't believe how good I feel. I'm at peace with my infertility. I honestly and truly don't care if I don't ever have biological children. I just want to be a mom. That's what is most important to me.

After I made that decision I gave Jayson some time to think about it. I didn't want to push him into if he wasn't ready. He prayed and pondered about it for weeks and finally came to the very same conclusions. So, as you all know, we set out on the path of adoption.

I can't claim that I don't still feel sorrow because I want very badly to be a mother. But, it's different now. It's not the sort of pain that is all consuming like before. I feel like me again.

 And now I understand that dreaded question. I understand why I had to be able to answer yes to it. I wasn't ready before. It's not fair to go into adoption with unresolved infertility issues. It's not fair to the birth parents, it's not fair to the children, and it's not fair to yourself. It's not really as much about giving up as it is about being willing to let go of your plan and accept God's plan and being able to love that plan. It's about being able to say that there is truly no difference in your head or in your heart between bearing a child and adopting one.

So, for all of you out there struggling, I want you to know that you are amazing and that you are strong, even though I know you probably feel like you've never been more weak.

The last two and a half years have been the hardest and longest I've ever had to endure. I've never experienced pain and long suffering like it.  I remember days when I was so down about it all that I knew that if anyone said anything even remotely related to babies that I would probably collapse and cry. In public. And I don't cry in public. I remember nights of crying to Jayson for hours. (Oh, poor Jayson, who wants so much to be a father and on top of all of that had to put up with my craziness. He is a saint, that man.)

 And most importantly, please remember that YOU ARE NOT ALONE. If you ever need someone to talk to, feel free to talk to me. I won't tell and I won't think you're weird if I don't know you that well. I know it helps to talk to someone, anyone who can relate. I've been there. In a sense, I'm still there. And don't ever ever ever forget that your Savior is there and He knows EXACTLY how you feel. He suffered so He could understand the pains of infertility.

Once I read an article in the Ensign (April 2011) about adoption and there was a quote that didn't make any sense to me. It read, " Healing, they say, comes from the Lord--not from adoptiong or conceiving". When I first read that I thought to myself.."What???" But, now it makes perfect sense. As I said, infertility becomes about so much more than not being able to have a baby and the only one that can heal you from that is our Savior.

And please know that it does get easier. I know it seems like the burden will never lift and that it's really hard to imagine a time when you won't be suffering, but that time will come. I promise, it gets easier.

And the other day I surprised myself when I used the word "beautiful" to describe infertility. It took me so long to get to this point, but there are things I learned from my infertility that I cherish. I became closer to my Savior. I learned the power of gratitude and that no matter how bad life seems there are always things to be grateful for. I also feel like I'll be a better mother than I ever could have been pre-infertility. I have a greater capacity to cherish and be patient with my children than I ever could have. I know that those sleepless nights will be sweeter than they would have been.

And it's totally fine and you shouldn't feel bad at all if you haven't reached this peace yet. It will come. Everyone gets there in their own time and in their own way. Infertility may be long, but remember, it is not forever.