Elie Salomon

I am the walking poster child for infertility. Why? Because I talk about it… OFTEN. When people tell me my kids are adorable, I say “Thank you, they are all miracle babies, products of infertility treatments.” When people see I have 4 kids ages 9,6,5,5 they say “You must have your hands full” and I reply, “Better full than empty, I wasn’t sure I’d ever have kids.” I’m strong, brazen at times, fiercely protective of my “silent sorority sisters” who are still facing the journey to complete their families. But last night, I was a mess.

I knew I had to go to the Mikvah, and it wasn’t a surprise because I was counting the days, like a good girl who is keeping Taharat Hamishpacha. I was a little rusty because I had an IUD put in and have not gotten my monthly visitor in 5 years. At the beginning of the new year, I had my IUD replaced (time was up on it) and the doctor said I may have some bleeding and spotting. Since I knew EXACTLY why and where the blood was coming from, I knew I wasn’t getting around being a Niddah. It was actually nice to be a Niddah again, participating in something that I hadn’t been in a while, and I didn’t think much about it, just that my Mikvah night would be Sunday night.

So yesterday afternoon my husband said “You have to take a bath tonight, right?” I nodded yes and started to think about everything I needed to do for my prep. I pictured him giving the kids showers, dinner and doing bedtime, and by the time I came home from the Mikvah all would be quiet. So I logged on to the local Mikvah website to check the earliest time I could show up. JANUARY HOURS: Sunday – Thursday 8:00pm-10:30pm

I started to panic. It was now 5pm, the time on other community websites were 5:40 and you could come at 5:30. I had to wait till 8pm? I started to panic and I wasn’t sure why. So I needed to keep busy… I took out my contact lens case, my saline, my toothbrush, my glasses and put them in a bag to take with me. I decided I would pray for 3 women I knew who were in the throes of planning on building their families, each at different stages. I am very blessed with what Hashem has given me now that I wanted to pray for others in that special time.

Then I went to take off my pedicure, the color happened to be deep red and it gave me a hard time coming off. I was rubbing and rubbing, my heart was racing, I was beginning to panic and then I started to cry. Why was I crying? Why wouldn’t it stop? I realized I was having some sort of PTSD. This prep was bringing me back to a time of trauma for me. Each failed pregnancy attempt, each miscarriage, the Mikvah prep time was filled with tears. I knew why, but it still wouldn’t stop. The anxiety I had for going to the Mikvah for the first time in 5 years was escalating and here I was, with darkness outside, and I had to wait until 8pm. It wasn’t fair, I wanted it to end.

I called a friend who had not gone through infertility, but we are there for each other, and I complained. She lives outside my community and was appalled that the hours for my Mikvah were so late. I told her I was going to try and call another Mikvah where you need to schedule 24 hours in advance and beg to “get it over with” sooner. I hate bothering people, but maybe this “Mikvah lady” would happen to be there anyhow and I wouldn’t be putting her out.

I called her on her cell phone, I realized I was on speaker and asked if anyone else was in her car. She said her tween daughter, but was this about an “appointment?” I said “Yes, I’m having a hard time and cannot wait until 8pm.” She was about 40 minutes away but gave me someone else’s number to try. I tried that person, but got disconnected. I figured it meant I should wait and just go at 8.

I tried to distract myself, but kept finding my eyes welling up and I was pacing around the house. At about 7:20 I got a text from the initial Mikvah woman who said she was home, did I still need an appointment. I said “Yes. I COULD go to my local Mikvah at 8pm, but I think I would rather if you don’t mind, go with you.” She said she would meet me there in 5 minutes. I rushed out the door in relief. We pulled up at the same time, I got out of my car and started to cry. She gave me a hug, and said “I’m glad you are here.” She knows I have 4 kids, and asked if I was having difficulty getting pregnant again. I told her I was done having kids and these tears were not about getting pregnant.

“I have not been to the Mikvah in 5 years and all the trauma of my past is flooding forward! I can’t control it!” She said, “Well, now you are at the spa, take your time to relax, take whatever time you need and let me know when you are ready.” She closed the door behind me and I cried, like UGLY CRY (I saw it in the mirror). I was asking Hashem “why” in the prep room, like I had in the past. Why was Mikvah such a traumatic association for me? Why was I crying here again? Would it ever be a “safe, peaceful, rejuvenation” for me?

After I pulled myself together, I finished my preparations and knocked to signal I was ready. The Mikvah lady came and checked my hands, feet and back, and I told her I forgot the Bracha. She showed me where it was, and I was ready. I did what I was supposed to do and on my way up, I felt relief. I did it, and hopefully it will be another 5 years before I have to do it again.

At night I just kept thinking I needed to write down my thoughts, and I think its two-fold:

1. For my silent sisterhood: the trauma is there, even for a strong advocate like me, I see myself as a strong person with a mission, but the cracks in my foundation are still there, and we can all fall apart. Its normal, you are normal.
2. Mikvaot don’t realize all the circumstances women are dealing with. Many of them are emotional ones. Mikvah is a traumatic experience for those facing infertility, miscarriage, and even post infertility. I am sure there are other circumstances as well. Having late hours on a Mikvah night when its possible to go 2 hours before can be very anxiety ridden. There should either be an emergency number to call to make special arrangements, or make hours when the earliest time is.

It is a day after I fulfilled my Mitzvah, and I am still shaking and crying about the situation. My instinct is to do something, so I’m putting this out there so others can read and maybe make small changes to make this Mitzvah a little easier for those who find it challenging.

I am part of a facebook group of women who are going through infertility. Recently, someone wrote a post asking for advice on how to have the strength to go on after multiple failures. I wanted to respond, but didn’t feel I had the right word s to share, but still really wanted to say something.

I attended an event organized by the Teaneck Yoetzet Initiative and one of the speakers really impacted me. The topic was not specifically about infertility, but many of her lessons resonated. I left the event CHARGED and MOTIVATED and wanted to share her thoughts with you in those hopes that they will help.

I need to give credit where credit is due. This amazing woman’s name is Shera Dubitsky, MEd, MA  and she was charged with giving tools to “take care of your MIND.” She works for Sharsheret, and helps those navigating diagnosis with ovarian and breast cancer, but  these tools are  applicable for the infertility community and others, as well.

 

Here are some of the points she made, and my commentary on how it can help the mindset of those navigating infertility.

1. The Three Little Pigs and The Big Bad Wolf:

The Big Bad Wolf’s refrain during this well-known children’s tale is “little pigs, little pigs, let me in, or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in!” The pigs, as we know, don’t let him in, and in fact, the wolf DOES blow their houses in. Now, what would happen if we let the big bad wolf in? Invite him in, offer him a drink or some cookies, let him put his feet up on your ottoman. Perhaps, by letting him in he doesn’t come off as so scary.

When diagnosed with infertility, one must not hide scared in a house alone, or even with your husband, it is really helpful to face it head on. Invite the diagnosis in, learn what you can from other “little piggies” who may be afraid of the big bad wolf. Have a party and invite the wolf! If you face this fear head on and let others know, they can be there for you every step of the way.

If you want to face the “wolf” but are afraid to try, there are many small steps you can take to dip your toe in the pool.

Yesh Tikva (www.yeshtikva.org) is a wonderful resource to help you at whatever level you want to join this Jewish Fertility Community. If you want to learn about an infertility diagnosis, look no further than the “Insider’s Guide” tab where you can read “What to expect.” If you want to read how you are not alone, you can read other people’s stories and gather strength from it. If you want to join a support group but don’t know what to say? Call into the “Live with Dvora” support groups. You can just listen and don’t have to speak until you are comfortable. If you want a buddy to be there every step of the way, Dr. Talia Hindin will find you the perfect “Fertility Friend’ based on your needs and wants. And if you are really brave, tell others what you are going through so they can support you, and not inadvertently say hurtful things.

 

2. G.P.S – Recalculating Route

When you get in your car and put your destination in google maps or waze or whatever method you like, sometimes you take a wrong turn and you hear “recalculating route.” Don’t let that stress you out, the navigational system will get you to where you need to go. It may not be the original way you thought you would get there, but you will reach the destination in another way,  and possibly a  little later than expected. And if you don’t like the path you are being guided on going, you can get off at the next exit and try and navigate yourself.

Infertility is a tricky diagnosis. It is not black and white, not everyone reacts the same way to the same protocols and there are different ways to achieve your family. Whether through both parents biologically contributing, or using donor egg or sperm, or adopting, or choosing to live a childfree life. They are all roads one can take. How we get to the final destination of our choosing is not set in stone. We can always chose to take another route, and the journey only ends when we are comfortable with the results. You are in the driver’s seat, not your parents, friends, or even doctors. Be your own best advocate because at the end of the day, you need to be ok with all you have done.

 

3. Cigarettes – Kick the Habit

We all know that smoking is bad for our health, so we don’t do it. Also, avoiding someone who smokes is ideal so we don’t inhale second hand smoke. Mrs. Dubitsky labeled  negative thinking “emotional cigarettes.” When you are down and negative, it’s like you are smoking emotional cigarettes. And the second hand smoke from that can harm those around you.

For example, you are taking hormones, they are making you tired, creating weight gain, making you snap at those around you.  You are not in a “happy place.” You know the reason internally, but perhaps mindfulness of the situation will help. You can talk about it with your loved ones, rather than building the smoke up in your lungs, and unloading the toxic smoke on those around you.

The path to parenthood is a frustrating one. The constant waiting and hoping and “what ifs” are a cyclical process since, if not successful, just repeats. If you are upset by a diagnosis, or a negative pregnancy test, try not to inhale all the bad because once you exhale, you will harm those around you who are just trying to be there for you. So try and be honest with your feelings and open up about them before they build up inside. Because when you exhale, you not only hurt yourself but those around you.

The speaker even gave a tip to help increase your awareness to prevent “emotional smoking.” Put a band-aid on your shoulder where a nicotine patch may be. When you look over or feel it, it will remind you to “kick the habit.”

 

4. The Monkey Bars at the Playground

Upon observing little kids on the playground, you can see that in order to move forward, you need to face your fears, and let go of the rung behind you. When  one hand is released, you have to gather your strength to  put your other hand forward.

Though it may be one of the most difficult things you do, in order to move forward you have to let go of the past, the failures and miscarriages, and even some falls you may have had and get back up again. I know it is easier said than done, as many of the pitfalls one experiences during infertility can be devastating. But the only way to move forward is to face your fear, get up, let  go of the rungs and press onward. Though it is hard to see it now, there is a light at the end of this tunnel. Each person gets there at a different time and in different ways. Something that I have learnt on this journey is whatever doesn’t break you  makes you stronger. And I have faith that you are strong.

 

I navigated infertility, and thank God, after the many ups and downs, I now have 4 children. I still speak openly, to anyone who will listen, in the hopes that my story may help others on their fertility journeys.

I AM NOT A DOCTOR.

I write that in bold because I do not dispense medical advice, I just thoroughly research topics  to make informed decisions for myself.

Lately 3 little letters have come up in conversation relating to pregnancy that I had some SCARY experience with. So I decided if someone wanted to google it, and not speak with me, that they could get some information that will help them out.

I CONTRACTED CMV FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE WHILE I WAS PREGNANT.

Now, what’s important in that statement is twofold: I never had CMV before, and it was clear I got it for the first time while I was pregnant.

I know this is important because the three specialists that I saw commented that they had never seen such a clear cut case of CMV contracted during pregnancy.

So let’s backtrack a bit. I got pregnant with twins and then lost them at 10 and 11 weeks. I was devastated. I had a D&C to find out what caused this loss, and it turned out they each had different trisomies. From that point on my husband and I decided to do Preimplantation Genetic Diagnosis, PGD, (genetic testing of the embryos and to only transferring genetically “normal” embryos so I would not have to endure another loss for THIS reason).

Before my next retrieval I wanted to be sure I didn’t have any other issues so I requested a full workup from my RE (reproductive endocrinologist). These tests were performed January 2012 and I received the all clear. I went ahead with my retrievals: one in January, one in February and another in March. During the March retrieval they decided to transfer two fresh genetically normal embryos. One embryo implanted and after several weeks of monitoring we graduated from the RE to my regular OB.

At my first appointment with my OB, he did his regular prenatal blood panel. When the results came back he called me immediately.   Apparently, I had CMV and all my blood work from my RE showed that I had never had it before. CMV, if transferred to the baby from a mother who doesn’t have the antibodies in her system already (hence you never had it) could result in: blindness, deafness, mental retardation or stillbirth.

The earth stopped for me. I had already had a number of miscarriages, therefore we only transferred normal embryos this time and we still had a complication? WHY US??

So the researcher in me needed to find out all that I could. I went to high risk OB’s in Manhattan, CHOP in Philadelphia, and New Jersey.

The first thing I learned was there was a blood test called an AVIDITY test that could narrow the window to find out when I got the virus. For me, I knew from the January blood work that it happened sometime between February and April, so the AVIDITY test would not help me (but that ruled it out for others I spoke to after.)

The second thing I learned was that there was a SLIGHT chance it could be transferred, and IF it was transferred to the baby there was a smaller chance the baby would get sick, but I like dealing in “worse case scenarios” and having all the information.

So I decided I wanted a CVS, an invasive procedure where they take cells from the placenta for testing. This is done earlier in a pregnancy than an amnio. The results would not be definitive, but it was the earliest test I could do to either get good or bad news. The CVS came back that they didn’t see the virus. Not definitive, but good first hurdle.

The next step would be the amnio. The reason the amnio results are more definitive is because in children, they test the urine, and amniotic fluid is urine for a baby in utero. The amnio was what I was waiting for. In the meantime, I could not sit idly by and do nothing. So thank G-d, I had a great team of  doctors who found ONE STUDY in Italy that showed POSSIBLY by doing an IVIG infusion of CMV antibodies to the mom while pregnant, perhaps they would cross the placenta and give the antibodies to the baby. So in the two months before my amnio, I would do that.

My first infusion was a horrible experience, they had me do it with people undergoing chemo. The nurses asked me what kind of cancer I had and I cried. It took forever (6 hours) and I was hungry, depressed, worried and alone. After that infusion I called my OB who suggested next time we do it at the ANTEPARTUM LOFT with Labor and Delivery Nurses and not as depressing. That was a much better experience.  Still long, but not as sad.

It was finally time for my amnio, I knew this was a risk to the baby, but I needed to know. Thank G-d, the results came back fine. The baby never got the virus, and we were all clear.

My son was born healthy with a lot of tefillot around him.

When I was getting ready for his bris, I wanted to thank all those who davened for me during my pregnancy. I also wanted to thank Hashem since he was a true partner in this process. I wanted to quote the Gemara that mentions the three partners in making a baby and I was floored when I found it.

In Messechet Niddah, Daf Lamud , Amud Alef, it talks about what it takes to make a child. Our Rabbis taught: There are three partners in creating a child: Hashem, the father and the mother… We know from the Gemara Hashem’s role is 1/3 of the job, but I know that in our situation, his portion was more than that, to which we are thankful.

Now, what we didn’t say in the bris speech was more specifically what the Gemara says Hashem brings to the table in creating a child. The Gemara says “God provides the spirit, the soul, the beauty of the features, eyesight, the power of hearing, ability to speak and walk, understanding and intelligence“

When I read this I said to myself “OMG, those are the things that CMV effects!” So for me, Hashem listening to our prayers, of those who prayed for me and the tears and tefillot I cried out. It illuminated the importance of what Hashem’s role is in this area. And because of those constant reminders, I know Hashem took care of our son.

 

http://secretsfromthesilentsisterhood.blogspot.com/2016/06/cmv-cytomegalovirus.html

I remember the aftermath of my first miscarriage. Many times people don’t even realize they have had a miscarriage when it happens so early in the game, but since I was going through fertility treatments, in this case an IUI, I knew that I had conceived, I knew that it had implanted and the cells of the embryo were splitting… and then they weren’t.  When they say “your body takes care of it,” the pregnancy hormone or BetaHCG numbers, or “Betas” in the fertility lingo, slowly go down to zero. Well, my body wasn’t doing that, and so I had to have a shot of methotrexate to help me get there.

One of the warnings I got when taking methotrexate was to NOT TRY to conceive on my own for 3 months. Anyone who is trying to get pregnant through an A.R.T. knows that you are pretty much chained to a lab during that time, and I was being released from those chains. So what does one do when given freedom of movement but can’t actually physically do anything? Well, I went to better my soul. My husband and I went to Israel.

We spent Shabbat in the old city of Jerusalem and had a meal with the Rosh Yeshiva that my husband had studied with for his gap year. He asked me to sit next to him and I confessed to everything we were going through. He told us he wanted his son to take us to see a specific Rabbi for a bracha the next day.  On the 2 hour journey for our bracha, the son, our guide, turned to me and said “You likely will not get to see the rabbi, so tell me what you want to ask since my father feels your husband is quiet and would not push through the crowd for a blessing.”  My husband spent a year in this yeshiva, was nicknamed “pareve” since he was coming to learn, but not change. The head of the yeshiva knew my husband’s personality and accessed that his wife was a true ezer k’negdo and could speak, if allowed, for both, but wouldn’t have the opportunity. I was very grateful to have a representative who would not hold back. I told the Rabbi’s son that we had recently had a miscarriage and we wanted desperately to have children and I was losing hope. Should we switch to IVF or continue with IUI, will we have children… what should we do?

When my husband came out from seeing the Rabbi, I asked what had transpired. I wanted details. “He asked what I did for a living. I told him I make lights. He asked for your Hebrew name, and I told him Zehavi. I asked for a bracha for my livelihood and for children. He told me I will LIGHT UP THE WORLD.”

That’s it?  I was disappointed. Will we light up the world through his work? Would my “golden” Hebrew name allow me to light up the world another way? Will we finally be able to see the light at the end of our dark fertility tunnel and have children? How will we light up the world? In hindsight, it would be all of those paths and only now can I see it revealed, and I truly thank G-d.

Chanukah is a festival of lights, a time for miracles, and every year at this time, I think back to this event in my life and the bracha that we would “light up the world.” I know how lucky I am that Hashem gave me my miracles! I still cry in disbelief and nachas during candle lighting when I hear my boys recite the brachot. But I don’t forget the past.

I speak openly about my journey, tell my tale on blogs, youtube videos, symposiums, wherever people will listen. People I have never met come over to me, call me, email me to share what they are going through and just knowing there is someone else they can talk to brings light into their eyes.

I reflect on those who have to endure this holiday without children. I relate to the couples who are praying that this is an auspicious time for their cycles and perhaps Hashem will give them a Chanukah present, a miracle this time, that he will bring light into their dark days, and I pray too.

Whoever you are, where ever you are, know that you are not alone. You may not know me, and I may not know you, but I feel you – your pain, your heartbreak, your despair, your doubts, and your fear. There will be miracles for you, it may not be clear how it will manifest itself, but Hashem has not abandoned you. With each day of Chanukah, may the increasing lights and warmth of the candles on the menorah bring you comfort and I hope that your gift will be revealed sooner rather than later.

 

http://secretsfromthesilentsisterhood.blogspot.com/2015/12/chanukah-prayer-for-miracles-this.html