By Lisa Manterfield
How do you know when it’s time to stop pursuing your dreams of motherhood? How do you know when enough is enough, when you have to reclaim your life and make new plans? It’s not a simple question to answer.
There were several moments that I wrote about in detail in I’m Taking My Eggs and Going Home. These were moments when I knew, deep down, that I had to stop treatment and had to find a way to move on without children.
The first was when I was sitting at a bus stop on my way home from my third doctor appointment of the week. I realized that getting pregnant had become a full-time job and that it was consuming every aspect of my life. Case in point, I don’t even remember why I was taking the bus (two buses, actually) to my appointments, but I do remember that this had become my habit. I can picture myself now, staring out the bus window, almost in a trance, so wrapped up my world of infertility, I was barely aware of my actions. I knew then I had lost touch with reality and myself.
Another point came not long after Mr. Fab realized that adoption wasn’t going to be a viable option for us. This really should have been the stopping point, but before long I found myself in the infertility section of the bookstore, browsing a book by a doctor who had performed fertility miracles through Chinese Medicine. I bought the book, even though we’d already traveled far down that road. When I mentioned it to Mr. Fab, he said all the right, supportive things, but I saw his face drop for a moment. I knew that he was wrung out, that he had reached the end of his journey, and that I should have been at the end of mine, too. But by the end of that week, I had an appointment with the miracle doctor and I was back on the bus, both literally and figuratively.
One of my last lightbulb moments came when Mr. Fab’s first grandchild was born. That passing of the motherhood torch to the next generation served to tell me that it was time for my journey to end. I had done all I could, motherhood wasn’t going to happen for me, and I had to let it go.
In between these events, and even after I was sure I would not be a mother, there were many moments of doubt, of second-guessing, of what-ifs. But for every step backwards, I took two steps forward toward recovery, and then three, and then four, until the backward slips became fewer and eventually stopped.
I imagine each of you has a similar story of realization and doubts. What were your “lightbulb” moments and how did you finally know it was time to stop?
Kara says
We knew we didn’t want to adopt. That was a road and bridge we just didn’t want to go down. But the biggest moment was when we were told the astronomical amount of money it was going to take for us to have kids because of our situation. That was 6 and a half years ago.
About a month after we decided to stop I had to take care of my mom after her 1st heart attack. And then 3 months later while we were on a cruise my husband fell and dislocated his knee and my mother hand her 2nd heart attack. After taking care of my husband when we got home and 4 and a half month later my husband slipped on ice and destroyed his knee requiring surgery and 6 months of physical therapy. Just last year I was diagnosed with a heart condition. It has been an eventful time for us and sometimes I wonder how all of this would have been taken care of if we had had children.
Analia Toros says
I remember going to the gyn and telling her despite my age (51) I still wanted to get pregnant. I still remember she said no and then she mentioned hysterectomy….
That “no” sounded really…. I can’t express that in words. I was in shock and devastated.
Was really hard for me.
Jenn says
I knew when I was tired of spending money on fertility treatments and only having losses or cycles that were negative and adoption didn’t work out for us. Once we stopped we were able to travel more again and traveling makes me so happy.
Kara says
That is what my husband and I do….travel; all over the world. Staying close to home this year. But last year we were in the Med for 2 weeks on a cruise.
I have friends that “live” through our pictures of our vacations because they have 3-5 kids and can’t go anywhere and I have some that are annoyed that we get to travel and they can’t because they had kids.
Nita says
Ours was both of us and the Doctor told us with procedures we had a 3% change since we both had fertility issues. That was when we decided to adopt. It was a nightmare. We lost 7 different forms of adoption. It would get so close they would call us and tell us they had a baby for us and then it would fall through.
We finally had enough physically and emotionally. So we went out and bought diamond rings. We began enjoying life as a couple. It was after we retired we became first time parents. We were blessed to become Host parents for an entire year.
It was very educational and rewarding.
I am glad we got to do this 2 years before he passed.
Nita Bourland says
With us it was both of us. I went through surgeries, my husband went through medical things as well and the doctor told us since it was both of us we were looking at only a 3% chance with procedures. We also needed more surgeries. So we gave up and persued adoption. We lost 7 different adoptions from different forms of adoption. Finally we were tired physically, emotionally and we decided to live life. We bought diamond rings and a Motorcycle and begin traveling.
Little did we know that after we retired we were to become first time Parents as Host Parents to an Exchange Student from South Korea. A very rewarding and educational year. I am so glad we were able to do that as my husband passed just 2 years afterwards.
loribeth61 says
We had agreed we would do three medicated IUI cycles, & that would be it (although in the back of my mind, I was sure I could persuade dh to try ONE cycle of IVF…!). But those three cycles took a lot more out of me than I could imagine. And when the last one failed, the finality of all was more than I could handle. About two weeks later, I was having lunch with a girlfriend when I started feeling very strange. I was convinced I was having a heart attack. Dh rushed me to our family dr’s office, where I was told I was NOT having a heart attack, but I WAS having a panic attack. It was awful. I knew then that we were done… I was a physical, mental and emotional wreck, and I knew that, realistically, I could not keep doing this, especially given the very low chance of eventual success. That was the turning point moment for me/us.
Stacy says
The most recent, heartbreaking (and final, as it turned out) “ah-ha” moment was about a year ago now. Hubby and I were driving home from his uncle’s funeral. I was having yet another brutal period (PAIN, heavy bleeding, etc.) It was like a light went on inside my head, and I asked him how he would feel if we never had kids together. (He has a daughter from a previous marriage & she has 3 kids, so we were grand parents by this time.) He said he would be ok with it, but he was sad for me that I wouldn’t get to be a mom.
Fast forward a year, and there are still times when I wonder if it is the right choice. For a few years previous I had been having moments where I realized that parenthood would probably not happen for us as a couple (not biologically anyway). But, I kept hoping & dreaming that we could have a miracle. We didn’t go in for a lot of fertility treatments. We couldn’t afford them, and I couldn’t stomach gambling on the possibility of a baby and losing. It huts every time I think about it. I avoiding thinking about it but it’s always there. I think I’m mostly living a normal life again, but I know I’m not done grieving.