“Writing is really quite simple; all you have to do is sit down at your typewriter and open a vein” (Listening to Your Life by Frederick Buechner p.190).
Friends, I am about to open a vein.
Today, the 1st of September, 2018, my twin sons turned four.
The day was rather unspectacular if I’m being honest. We are having a proper celebration for them in “two more big sleeps.” So there was no big party or presents today. It was like any other day, except it wasn’t.
On this day, four years ago, my swollen belly waddled into Craigavon Area Hospital. A few hours later — our boys were in our arms. This act of birth that happened in mere seconds, had taken nine painful years of infertility to get to.
So today could have felt and seemed normal, except that it wasn’t.
I took the boys to Top Pot donut shop in Bellevue for a birthday breakfast. To everyone in that place I was a normal mom, sitting happily with her twin sons eating donuts. Except I wasn’t.
I was the mom who was sitting, staring, at two walking, talking, laughing miracles. I was looking at my nine years of tears cried, longing to be a mother. I was looking at what seemed like a crazy promise fulfilled. I was looking at my husbands’ and my face staring back at me, seeing both of our families in the faces of our sons. I sat looking at the most tangible proof I have of a God who hears me, sees me, and answers the deepest longings of my soul.
I LOVE being Kidran’s mom and Cohen’s mom. I love the connection that we have fostered these past four years. I love that they give me their best and throw their worst at me too. I love all the crazy ways they make me laugh and at the same time make me want to pull my hair out. I love that they are big lovers, who lavish me with hugs and cuddles. I love, love, love being their mom. My heart is beyond full as I live in this reality of my dream.
Now though, the vein is beginning to open.
After nine years of infertility, we gave birth to our handsome and healthy twin sons, Kidran J Caleb and Cohen V Ryan. We were one of the “lucky” couples who finally became pregnant. What many of you may not know is that our final round of ICSI (Intracytoplasmic Sperm Injection) was so successful that we now have eleven remaining embryos.
We don’t know what our future holds. What I do know is I cannot have potentially eleven or more children. That fact slaps me across the face sometimes. I hate that I do not have the capacity or means to give birth to all these miraculous, potential lives. I hate that I feel stretched to the max being a mother to two incredible, energetic sons. I hate that after years of struggling to finally have our family, we are now wrestling with this additional piece of the heartbreaking puzzle of infertility treatment.
Of course I can see that this is where so many others would long to be. I am not stupid or blind. I see others who cannot produce even one viable embryo and here we are sitting with eleven. I also know that the only option for us and these precious embryos is not something I’m sure I will ever have peace about.
Early on in our treatment we made the decision that if we were fortunate enough to have any embryos left that we could not care for, we would adopt them out. We would not discard them, leave them to science, or not pay the storage so that the holding clinic would end up making a decision regarding their fate. (Yes, people are starting to do this more often because they can’t make a decision either.) We decided that they were lives and we would give them the best chance of a life we could, even if that home was not our own.
This is the part of infertility that I was not prepared for or I guess didn’t anticipate. I have cried so many additional tears about this. I have questioned the capability of the family/lies who may adopt our baby embryos. What if they have a baby like Cohen? Will they put him on meds because he seems to have “too much” energy? Will they see the subtle change in their baby’s smile that is similar to Kidran when he gets excited about something he really loves? Will they fill their house with laughter, patience, creativity? Or will it be strict, rigid, full of hardline rules? The questions are endless, and so is the grief.
When I think of not having these babies, it strikes me as one of the biggest points of grief I will ever experience in my life.
Yet, I had another thought.
Maybe, just maybe, these sweet, unborn lives will be placed with people who have exactly what my babies need because I think at the end of the day I will always feel like they are mine. Maybe we will help answer years of prayers for someone else. Maybe, just maybe, someday I will get to meet them.
I have agonized over this very scenario time and time again. Even as I write these words, my eyes are full, tears waiting to be released, to let the next wave of grief hit me. This choice and choosing it feels impossible. My stomach hurts thinking about it. Years of trying, waiting to now be here.
I know I can’t answer this question right now. Instead, I can work on more of the party favors for the boys Star Wars themed birthday party in two days! They recently had a little family party in Idaho that only wetted their appetite for birthday parties and presents. They are now truly excited for this birthday and that excitement is spreading. I even found Star Wars shirts for Bryan and me to wear! Roll on Monday evening! All things Star Wars, light sabers, and cupcakes! May the force be with you!
I have wonderful friends! Today one of them sent me a message to tell me my carseats expired but Target can help. Target is having an event this week. I can drop off our old carseats, get 20% off coupons for new ones, and those new ones happen to be on sale already. Thank you very much Target!
You can bet your bottom dollar I went straight to Target this morning. I should mention that it did take us, mainly me, an hour and a half to actually get out the door. It was one of those mornings where I felt like my head wouldn’t stop spinning. Wash that pottery mug, start the dishwasher, Cohen has to pee, Kidran has to poop, wait Cohen has to poop now, and Kidran has to poop again. It felt a little slow motion.
Eventually we were dressed and headed out the door. Once in the car, the boys asked me if Target was a toy store. This question is hard for me to answer. I know I am being asked because they think thrift stores are toy stores and they want to know if Target is a thrift store. Target technically has toys, although I am not sure they would like me to bring the boys to their store and have them play with all their nicely packaged toys. I have always loved thrifting and I take the boys along now. They get to play with the toys and I don’t have to take them home. Winning! I tried my best to explain that there are toys at Target but it’s not a thrift store. I’m sure they understood.
Then I began telling the boys that they were getting new carseats. After I told them, I snapped these pics at a stoplight. While I looked back over my shoulder at my two growing sons, a familiar lump formed in my throat. Then tears filled my eyes, and I turned back around.
Something about these changes for my boys gets me every time. It marks the passage of time. It marks the end of a season. It almost feels like closing a chapter that you have loved so very much, and didn’t really know when it would end. My little boys are growing up. Bryan tells me I rush things sometimes, which is true. It’s hard not to when I can see them developing so quickly before my eyes. I can see the subtle changes. I can hear the words being pronounced clearer. I can feel them needing me less and asserting themselves more.
Cohen is continuing to extend his reach to new people everyday. He makes friends wherever he goes and struts his stuff with swag that I didn’t know was possible in such a little body. Kidran is running towards his own passions. These happen to include Star Wars, anything shiny/sparkly, and knowing exactly how to push Cohen’s buttons. They are real people. Duh. Yet isn’t it still hard to believe sometimes when those little people are your babies?
All of these changes and developments are positive. They are the things I am aiming for as a parent. I am (we are) trying to raise our children in a way that helps them feel confident to leave our house and engage with the world we live in. Independence, confidence, life skills, and excitement for living are all things that are growing. I hope that never changes. It doesn’t however mean that as a parent you aren’t sad when these days come, as eventually they will.
These carseats mark some of these transitions. These were the first carseats they rode in as 8 month old babes when we came back to visit the PNW and Bryan was inducted into the Northwest University Hall of Fame. What felt like a few short months later, we landed back in America, this time we had moved. We left behind a life we loved to return to what now felt like a foreign country in many ways. Thankfully we had a soft landing being surrounded by friends and family close by. The boys rode in these carseats from the airport that day too. Cohen’s was the taupe carseat while Kidran’s quickly became the navy one. These seats took the boys to and from Idaho safely through this last year while my Papa was sick and eventually passed. They have been thrown up in, pooped in, slept in, laughed in, cried in, all of the things.
The other day I had the chance to chat with my brother about parenting. We discussed the ease of parenting littles compared to adult children when the stakes are much higher. I may be physically exhausted a lot of the time right now. However, this stage is so so simple. I don’t have to help the boys think about college, jobs, girlfriends, and the list could go on. The boys live with us, eat with us, play with us. We are their world. Soon though, their world will grow and expand. They will begin stepping away from us, a slightly terrifying thought! So for now, I will grieve the end of one season and celebrate the beginning of a new one! For example, the boys are pretty well potty trained!
I would love to know if any of you find the changing seasons of your children’s lives difficult to adjust to? What has helped you move forward each time? Also, did anyone else head to Target for the carseat swap? It was awesome! Except for the small fact that I then had to assemble and swap out the old seats for the new in the Target parking lot! Lol!!
*If anyone is interested in buying my book The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants it is available on Amazon. You can also stay updated on the upcoming book tour in Northern Ireland through my Facebook page @breannajochud or on Instagram @breannachud. If you know anyone who is struggling with infertility I would encourage you to buy this book for them as support or buy it for yourself to help you understand more of what it’s like.
I am so honored and thrilled to be announcing my Northern Ireland book tour this coming May! I will be visiting four locations: Armagh, Lurgan, Coleraine, and Dungannon. Each event is set up on my Facebook page @breannajochud. Find the events there and let the event holder know you will be attending.
Northern Ireland is where so much of my story played out. It’s where I grew up in many ways, into a mature woman. It’s where my desire to start our family began, it’s where we did much of our treatment for infertility, and it is where we eventually welcomed into this precious world our sons, Kidran and Cohen.
The island holds my heart in every way. The people, the land, the culture, all of it makes me feel very much like myself and I am so thankful to be returning for this trip. I will not be going alone. Two of my oldest and dearest friends will be joining me for this journey. We are anticipating some incredible moments both personally and for those we come in contact with on the trip.
If you live in or near any of these locations and are struggling with infertility, please come! You do not have to walk this road alone. You can also follow the progress of the trip as it gets closer on Instagram @breannachud and Facebook @breannajochud. The book is available on Amazon but does take a few weeks to arrive right now. Would you also do me a favor? If you have read the book, would you please leave a review on Amazon and on my Facebook page? It is great for others to know how you are finding the book. Thank you again everyone for your support and encouragement! For my Northern Irish family, I cannot wait to see each and every one of you!
Over the last five years, I have started using a Lent devotional from Biola University. This practice has been so helpful for me. I haven’t always been faithful to do it everyday, but even still, I find it helpful to create a type of rhythm. I enter into the waiting of Lent with purpose and direction, which in turn has led to deeper meaning for me personally.
This beautiful poem from today’s excerpt felt very close to my heart. Much of what was discussed was the way Mary pondered the events of Jesus’ life in her heart, as his mother:
Poetry: A Child in Starlight
By Elmer Diktonius
[Translated by Martin S. Allwood]
There is a child,
A new-born child—
A rosy, new-born child.
The child whimpers—
All children do.
And the mother takes the child to her breast.
Then it is quiet.
So is every child.
The roof is not over tight—
Not all roofs are.
And the star puts
It’s silver muzzle through the chink,
And steals up to the little one’s head.
Stars like children.
And the mother looks up at the star
All mothers understand.
And presses her frightened baby
To her breast—
But the child sucks quietly in starlight:
All children suck in starlight.
It knows nothing yet about the cross:
No child does.
As I read this poem, it struck me that every mother will watch her child/ren endure a cross, possibly more than one. My mother watched me endure infertility for nine long years. She watched me heave that cross around. She watched me break under it’s weight at times. She pondered this and I’m sure had flashbacks to me as a little girl, wild and carefree. It’s so hard to watch your baby carry a cross.
My boys are still pretty tiny. They have only spent three and a half years on this planet, such a short space of time, yet they are learning so much. A few days ago our eldest, by one whole minute, finally was forced to give up his pacifier/dodie. In his small, three year old world, this was his cross. The dodie actually split in two and my husband and I made the decision that it was time to not replace the dodie.
Bedtime that first night was a little rough. His eyes welled with tears after he asked for his dodie and we told him there was “no more dodie.” He asked me to go to the store to get a new one and I said “it’s time to be a big boy.” Talk about heart wrenching!
That was a few days ago now. Life had moved on. Then I read the devotional for today and I felt tears welling up in my own eyes. As I sat across from my boys, looking at each of them, I pondered why this was coming up for me. It hit me that it was the end of my babies being babies. Cohen had willingly given up his dodie long ago, and that felt fine because Cohen always wants to be bigger than he is and further along in life than he is. Kidran, on the other hand, has felt a little more needing of nurturing so I felt okay about letting him still have his dodie. However, now I was gently forcing him to take a step towards growing up. I was encouraging him to turn his back on being a baby and walk boldly towards becoming an independent little boy. Hard swallow. Lump in my throat. I did not like the moment.
This brings me back to my devotional reading. Mary was my kind of mom. God was so gracious to have her show us moms that it’s okay to ponder our children, to store up memories for later to relive and visit. I replay that line “let them be little” over and over sometimes. They won’t be little forever momma, ponder these little times. Ponder them wanting to be by your side every second, not giving you any space to breathe. Ponder there outbursts, they are waging through a forest of emotions that are new and overwhelming to them. Ponder the toys everywhere, the handprints on the windows, the 100th reading of the same story, and those cuddles that come out of nowhere. Store up those things in your heart. You are gonna need them for later.
As I sifted through these thoughts, I pondered Easter and the waiting it involves/d. I naturally turned to my longest period of waiting to date. It was the nine years of waiting to be a mom. Waiting for sleepless nights. Waiting for dirty diapers to be changed. Waiting for my baby to spit up all over my clean shirt for the third time in one day. Let me tell you something truthful though. God did something to me in the waiting. He began making me a mountain(which is what my little piece of pottery says). If you let Him, he will do that for you too. There can be purpose in our pain if we let there be. Will it be fun and easy? Probably not. Will it help others? I can almost guarantee it. Will it be hard? Yep.
The other picture I have added to this blog is a picture of the pendant my dear friend Ailsa gave me at one of my lowest points in our infertility journey. It helped me in the waiting and came at a time when my world seemed bleak, dark, and hopeless. Yet in time, the image of the dove carrying the olive branch, began to create a strong hope in me. Hope for the future. Hope that my waiting would come to an end. Hope that someday I would lay down my cross of infertility, and that I would resurrect as a mother.
As you enter into these final days of this Lenten season, take time to ponder. Remember Mary. Remember that God is with you. What are you waiting for? What cross are you carrying? Where do you want to see resurrection in your life? Take some time to ask these questions, talk them over with a close friend, your husband, or God. Lent is almost over and my prayer for you is that your waiting is almost over.
If you would like some extra encouragement in learning to practice some spiritual disciplines check out Lacy Clark Ellman. She has a beautiful website and podcast with tons of valuable resources to help you begin to create space to practice things like Lent.
*I still have copies of my book as well The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants. If you are local to the Kirkland/Seattle area contact me directly through my Facebook page @breannajochud to buy a copy directly. Otherwise you can order a copy on Amazon. I would encourage you as well to think of buying this book as a gift for a friend or for yourself to learn more about the struggle of infertility. You can also find my info on Instagram @breannachud.
When I was in high school, I liked English. My teacher however made it very clear to me, on more than one occasion, that English did not like me. She held my paper up, covered in red marks, in front of both classes, and announced that I made the most mistakes in both her classes. It was a defining moment. From that point on, I became pretty insecure about my ability to write throughout high school.
Imagine my surprise then, when I tested out of the basic English composition class to move onto the next level when I arrived at college! It gave me a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, I could actually write. Combine that spark with years of journaling, and I decided to ignore my high school teachers decision of my ability.
I did this when I started blogging for the community coffee shop I opened in Northern Ireland called The Press. I would share about the experiences in the coffee shop and announce our upcoming events. I LOVED IT! Writing had always been an outlet and at that point I started to find my own voice.
Fast forward a few years. Bryan and I decided to give IVF one last shot, no pun intended! I figured the easiest way to keep people informed of our progress was through my personal blog. I had only one or two entries at that point. I guess I also need to rewind and insert this little fact. Through the years that we struggled with infertility I also journaled. I used my writing as a way of processing my pain, as a way of praying, as a way of dealing with the grief I carried, but didn’t always want the world to know. I also didn’t want to consistently be “Debbie Downer” by always talking about the sadness I felt. This could be partly my personality or partly the lies we believe that people can’t handle our pain and suffering, I’m not really sure.
Anyway, back to what I was saying. Years before the blog started, Bryan and I had made a special trip to London to see Phantom of the Opera with the London cast. It was one of my bucket list items. It happened around my 30th birthday along with our first failed round of IVF. As we sat having dinner in a little Italian restaurant across from the theater, we decided that someday, when our family had finally arrived, by whatever means it came, that we would share our story in a book.
That moment has arrived. The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants is our story from my personal perspective. I allow you to crack open pages of my own journals, private pictures, sketches and my honest response to the struggle of infertility. I really hold nothing back. I am not trying to shock people, but I am trying to wake people up. This issue is painful. Painful for those struggling and painful for those who are watching someone struggle. 1 out of every 8 couples will deal with infertility now, 1 out of 8!!! Next time you are around that many couples, just look around because I would bet my own money that someone you know really well is struggling. It’s that real friends.
This book took me almost two years to complete. Life happened in a not so kind way almost immediately after I had the full manuscript completed. My father was diagnosed with cancer. At times the book felt like a burden I couldn’t shake while dealing with the grief of watching my father deteriorate. Other times it felt like an escape and a lifeline. What definitely helped was writing. Writing has become a way of life for me. Thanks to authors like Shauna Niequist, Jen Hatmaker, Elizabeth Gilbert, and Brene′ Brown, I began to believe in the power of my own voice. I also had my husband and amazing family and friends cheering me on too!
So the other night, March 12th at 7 p.m. I had my very first book launch! I was overwhelmed to see so many lovely faces come. Some I hadn’t seen in years, and some I have only recently become friends with. It was a beautiful collection of people and I am so grateful for each person taking the time to come and support me in such a tangible way.
Now I have the privilege of promoting this much needed book. I get to share my story again and again with people. Validating each time that what I went through, what we went through, and maybe what you are going through will not be wasted if we let it help and guide others. Our pain truly can bring comfort to someone else’s suffering, if we will let it. It means standing with our hands open instead of with clenched fists.
“I would describe infertility as a process of purification. You go through the fire, but at the end you come out your truest self.” p. 51 The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants
What have you experienced by way of pain in your life? Are you willing to open that area up to even just one person? If so, I think you will find there is healing there. There is purpose in your pain there. There is also forward momentum that helps you leave the past in the past and move towards your future with hope and joy. Please share your story, the world needs it!
Hey lovely blog followers and those of you who just happened upon my site! This is not a normal entry but one to let you know that I am days closer to having the release date of my book The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants: A raw glimpse into the painful journey of infertility. This book has been in the making for the guts of two years and I am so delighted to be this close! My proof draft has been ordered and should be in my hands by the 13th of February. This means that if I have no real changes to make to the book it should be available to all of you lovely people as soon as the 14th of February which would be incredible!
I decided it would be my birthday present to myself to get it done this month since I turn 38 on the 16th of February. Valentine’s Day holds an extra special place in our hearts too for it was the day that we found out both of our little, long awaited embryos had implanted! It was the day our hearts expanded twice over instantly.
My hope and prayer is that this Valentine’s Day can hold special meaning for others too. Not necessarily the same way it does for us (although that would be incredible!) but that maybe it can be a day when you feel supported in your journey. A day you feel loved by your spouse even though you feel you are failing miserably because your body just won’t do what you want it to do. I could go on but all of that to say, I am beyond thrilled that we are at this point friends. You and I are very close to getting to know each other a little better, well you me at least. I hope my open and raw story telling will help ease your pain or help you better understand someone else’s pain.
If you want more info you can find me on Facebook @Breannajochud or on Instagram @breannachud. Please feel free to share this book with anyone and everyone who needs it or may benefit from reading it!
It feels like the past few days have been pretty monumental. Bryan went in Thursday for his procedures and was a great sport through it all as you can see in the pic above. The doctors and nurses said Bryan was so much fun to have in, duh!! He ended up having 4 biopsies and they were able to get everything they needed (my husband is by far the toughest man I know and has endured more labour pains than any other man I have ever known!). Now he is 4 days into the recovery process and it is slow going. Thankfully he doesn’t have to fly till Friday. We are also so thankful that Bryan was put out for his procedure. Being under anaesthesia made it less traumatic than the first time.
Friday morning my Mom and I drove to Boise and it was my turn to go under. Anaesthesia is definitely the way to go for this kind of treatment. I didn’t feel a thing and don’t remember any of it, praise God! They were able to retrieve 20 eggs, 17 of those eggs were mature and out of the 17 eggs 15 fertilized and became embryos!!! We are over the moon with this outcome! Not all of the embryos will be good enough quality to transfer so this gives us a much better chance of having some strong embryos to use.
A little memory to share in the midst of all of this is when I got the call regarding the embryos. Friday night we had a slumber party for my Mom’s 70th birthday party. We were out at my oldest brother’s house, Brent and Trudy, when the call came Saturday morning. After I took the call I walked out and announced to many of my female family members the good news. Everyone screamed, we cried, there were hugs! Such a special memory to have and one that I am thankful for. Being with our families during this whole process has been such an incredible gift from God that we could not have planned.
So what next? Monday the clinic will call and let us know how many of the embryos look good enough to use. We will then go in for the transfer on Wednesday. My friend Kelly also arrives on Monday afternoon. Kelly is coming to be here for the transfer and to support us, so special! From Wednesday to the 10 day test mark feels like the hardest part. They transfer Wednesday, then we take a blood test 10 days later and during that time you just wait. You wait to feel any little thing, any hint that it has worked. You wait to start your period in a sign that it hasn’t worked, you wait in hope for the future all the while replaying the past. The line is hard to walk. We want to believe for the best and hope for that yet sometimes our past experience creeps in and reminds us of the previous hurt. So for this next season please pray for us. Pray the following:
Pray for at least 1 embryo that is good enough to transfer
Pray my womb is a safe and welcoming place for this potential new life to thrive and grow
Pray for Bryan’s continued recovery
Pray that we keep our eyes on Jesus and keep His perspective in all of this
Thank you for following our journey, for praying and partnering with us. We appreciate it so so so much!!!!!
Just a little extra pic so you have an idea of what the beginning of our family slumber parties look like!