**CW: reassignment surgery, miscarriage and complex fertility complications
I was humbled yet again by the people who reached out to me to talk about my stories regarding infertility. It solidified for me that this is a topic many feel unable to talk about, and that silence can be very damaging.
Two such people asked that their perspectives also be shared.
One friend called after being asked -- by people who didn't know she was trans -- when she wanted to have children. Having gone through reassignment surgeries, biological children are no longer an option. I am so glad she came to me with her story, because I realized it's a massive perspective that I hadn't even considered. It was clear that she had recognized, before surgery, that infertility would be a factor, but that it was too hard to go on living in a body that didn't feel like hers. She also said sometimes she feels guilty being sad about infertility, because it can feel like her "fault". It makes it harder to talk about when you perceive that even the people who've experienced infertility can't relate to you, because they may see it as just a choice you made.
What I loved most about this conversation was how universal it still felt. When she first approached me I thought, god, it must have been so hard for trans people to relate to my posts! I did such a horrible job at being inclusive! But her response was actually how helpful it was to read stories that felt so true to her own experience.
The most unifying theme of all the stories I've heard, is how damaging it is when people tease you about having children.
It's shocking to me, how many people experiencing infertility have had to endure complete strangers asking about such a personal aspect of life.
The next story was shared with me by an old friend, Joe, and his wife Michelle. I'll use his words, because he told it so beautifully, but with my own thoughts in italics:
I guess I'll start from May of 2015. Michelle and I were getting married in a couple weeks. We weren't exactly trying to get pregnant, but we weren't taking any precautions to not get pregnant. About a week before our wedding day, she got a positive pregnancy test. We were ecstatic, and slightly horrified. I believe it was the next day when she started bleeding.
I think 2 days before our wedding, we went to the ER only to learn there was no heartbeat and her body was aborting the pregnancy. It was horrible. There was nothing that could be done, so Michelle was actively miscarrying at our wedding and almost our entire honeymoon.
I recently had my own wedding and was amazed by how magnified all of my emotions became. I can only imagine experiencing that kind of fear, loss, sadness, loneliness, disappointment, etc, during an event surrounded by people and expectation.
In between our wedding and our honeymoon (we got married on Sunday and left for our honeymoon the following Friday) we went to an OB (her regular one was booked solid so we had to go to another doctor in the practice). To put it mildly, she was terrible. Thankfully the ultrasound tech who worked with us was great. She found the perfect angle to find that Michelle had what they call a uterine septum. Its more or less a hunk of non vascular tissue that forms on the uterine wall. It prevents the uterus from expanding with the baby's growth, causing miscarriages in 90% of pregnancies, and extreme prematurity and possible stillbirth in the rest. In June, she started going to a reproductive endocrinologist. The doctor we saw there looked at the ultrasounds and told us that it's a textbook septum and it's fixable. In July, Michelle had the procedure done and the doctor went into her uterus and cut the septum out. Michelle was put on a lot of different meds to prevent scar tissue from building in her uterus.
The doctor told us that we were the youngest couple she had ever treated for this. Most couples don't find out until after trying for years and years to conceive.
So after the surgery, we were told if we don't get pregnant in 6 months to come back for fertility treatment and further testing. We tried and tracked from August to March. No success except for very early term losses. In march 2016, Michelle went back to the reproductive endocrinologist and ended up having a test called an HSG. It injects the uterus with dye while simultaneously taking x-rays. We were told 60% of women who get this procedure end up pregnant soon after.
On mother's day, May 8, 2016, I had just worked an overnight shift. I got home at 9 am after working midnight-8am. Michelle took a pregnancy test. Positive. The same level of excitement and horror.
The next day I'm at work again. Michelle calls me. She's bleeding again. My heart sinks so low I cant even describe it. I go to my supervisor and say I need to go home. I fly home as quickly as I can. I run inside and find her laying in bed. She's so upset, she's unable to even call her doctor. So I call.
"Hi this is Joseph Gold, my wife is Michelle Gold. I think shes having anoth-" I break down on the phone. I can't go through it again.
Michelle takes the phone and sets up the appointment. We take the 40 minute drive out to the reproductive endocrinologist. Michelle gets in the room and the doctor starts doing the ultrasound. The baby is still there! Its latched and measuring ahead of schedule! What is going on? Turns out Michelle had what is called a subchorionic bleed. It's basically a blood clot that forms between the uterus and the placenta. Either the body absorbs it or passes it. Michelle was passing it. I hope I'm not being too graphic or too detailed. I really haven't told anyone the whole story of what happened and its bringing back a lot of memories.
I thought it was hilarious, as someone who's read my blog, that he was actually worried about being too graphic :-)
That bleed lasted about 2 weeks. Michelle says every time a little bit of it passed, she thought she lost the baby. Once the whole bleed was gone, it was discovered that her cervix was shortened. She was ordered on bed rest from September until delivery (his due date was January 6th).
Late October-early November, we were basically told that we weren't going to make our due date and the doctor suggested giving Michelle a steroid that has been known to increase the speed of lung development in-utero. Fast forward to November 23rd. Michelle had a regular OB checkup. Turns out she was 3 cm dilated. She calls me in tears. I was working about 40 minutes away. I head back to my headquarters and tell my supervisor that my wife is going into labor and I need to leave. Luckily my job is literally down the street from the hospital she was delivering at. I actually beat her to the hospital.
She was admitted at around 11am Wednesday. Adam was born at 2:43 am on Thursday.
He was about 7 weeks early, but was still 5 lbs 8 oz 20 inches.
When he came out, there were 2 NICU nurses, a NICU cardiologist, a regular NICU doctor as well as Michelle's OB and 2 nurses.
He was put on Michelle's skin for a few minutes before they took him to a table on the other side of the room to fully examine him. I was able to go over and watch them examine him and even hold his hand. I remember the NICU staff looking at him and saying "do we need to bring him to the NICU? Hes so big already." They determined that based on his gestational age, they had to. They put him in a bassinet and I remember the nurse legit running down the hallway with him and me running right behind her because the hospital is so cold. So we run to the NICU and get him under a heat lamp.
He ended up in the NICU for 12 days because during delivery, Michelle's birth canal was a little too narrow and it kind of squeezed his head giving him a decent sized hematoma on top of his head.
When I thanked Joe for sharing the story, and asked him what it felt like to tell it:
It was something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. It's not a fun story for me to tell, but I think it's easier for me than it is for Michelle because while I lost a baby, Michelle is physically the one who lost the baby. It was her blood that was being shed. It was her body that was rejecting it. Even being there with her, I can't even begin to fathom what she went through. With that being said, I thought what you wrote was extremely accurate and I'd even say courageous.
You know, you're the first person outside of our families that have heard the whole story. It's important to get the word out. It affects so many people.
Thank you, again, to everyone who has shared thoughts, feelings, stories, and fears with me through this blog. Open conversation and community make such a difference.