Exciting New News from The Stork OTC

This is a sponsored post, but all opinions are mine. 

I've shared previously about Hubby's and my struggles to have a family. It's disheartening to learn that something that seems so natural and easy can be extremely elusive for some couples. While discussion of infertility is becoming more common, there is still a certain amount of sadness and shame that women in particular feel about not being able to easily conceive.

www.storkotc.com 

Last year, I learned about an over-the-counter fertility device that, if it had been around when I was struggling to conceive, I would have tried. The Stork OTC Home Conception Kit is a clinically proven, promising option for couples or singles trying to conceive. The first and only conception device to meet the U.S. Food and Drug administration's strict requirements and be cleared for over the counter sales without a prescription, The Stork OTC is the product of years of meticulous design and testing.

Obviously, it's more fun to make a baby the "natural way," but this isn't always possible for all couples. The Stork OTC is specifically designed for in-home use, making it a private, first step in overcoming infertility.

And now there's an exciting new clinical study which demonstrates that the Stork OTC Home Conception Kit is more effective at delivering a higher concentration of sperm to the cervix than natural intercourse when trying to get pregnant. The peer-reviewed, ten-month study was conducted by Dr. Michael J. Pelekanos and is published in the Surgical Technology International, Issue XXVII. The results are:

• In 85% of participants, the Stork OTC delivered a 3.23x higher value of sperm concentration at the cervix compared to the value of sperm concentration with natural intercourse.
• The remaining 15% of participants saw no change in sperm concentration between the Stork OTC use and the natural intercourse method. 

The Stork OTC uses cervical cap insemination (CCI), which has a proven success rate of 10-20% (IUI has a success rate of 10-20%). The FDA has cleared the Stork OTC for help with common fertility problems such as sperm motility issues, low sperm count, unfavorable vaginal environment, and unexplained infertility. 

In an age when reproductive treatment options are largely high-cost and complex, The Stork OTC offers an elegantly simple way to optimize chances for conception, in the privacy of one's own home, and at a price point ($79.99/single-use device) that is far less costly than invasive procedures such as IUI, IVF, etc.--procedures often not covered by insurance and that many simply cannot afford. Hubby and I spent much of our savings on fertility treatments, so I'm happy to bring news of this affordable option to couples and singles trying for a family.

Join us in a special one-hour Twitter chat as we discuss tips for conceiving naturally and what you can do when that doesn’t seem to be working. We’ll share information on how The Stork OTC can help in a non-evasive and cost-effective way.

During the final chat of this series, you’ll also have a chance to win $25 gift cards to CVS/pharmacy by answering some trivia questions. And as a grand prize, we’ll be giving away a $50 CVS/pharmacy gift card and a trial of The Stork OTC! For more information on The Stork OTC, please visit their website.

My heart goes out to everyone wishing to start a family. I know firsthand the heartache associated with infertility and what a strain it puts on all aspects of your life. I'm offering one reader a chance to win a Stork OTC kit valued at $79.99. Just comment below with your interest in winning (don't worry, you don't need to share personal information), and I will pick one winner at random by Friday, December 11th. Be on the lookout for the reply notification from Disqus. If the winner doesn't respond in 24 hours, I will pick a new winner.

Visit the Stork OTC website for more information on the study results and what The Stork OTC can do for you.

*This content is not intended to be a substitute for medical advice. Always seek the advice of your physician.*

Image via Shutterstock.com





The giveaway is over now. The winner is Sarah Anne J. 

I wish The Stork would have been there for me

Hubby and I got married when we were 31. All of our siblings had families, and we were surrounded by dozens of nieces and nephews. One of us was really anxious to start having lots of babies right away. Since the other one wanted to wait a while, we compromised and waited about six months before trying. 

Six months turned into a year filled with so many pregnancy tests I lost count, sex that felt more like a chore than a pleasure, misguided advice from my primary care doctor, pointless temperature taking (it was always the same), and a devastating miscarriage. 

The worst thing was probably the whole year's worth of questions and comments: Why haven't you guys had a baby yet? We thought you'd be pregnant by now. You'd better hurry up and start having babies if you want to keep up with your husband's family. Aren't you guys planning on having a family?

I was so ashamed to admit that we had been trying, but it wasn't working. Since nothing was found to be wrong with my husband or his ability to produce sperm, I felt like it was all my fault. I felt broken, and I didn't feel like there was anything I could do about it or anyone I could talk to.

On the same day that I visited one of my best friends and her new baby in the hospital, Hubby and I had our first fertility appointment. Five months and thousands of dollars later, we were pregnant with twins. It took me years to finally admit that we experienced problems. 

Today, with the popularity of blogs focusing on fertility, we know that there is no shame in admitting that a couple is experiencing fertility issues. In fact, a CDC study found 10.9% (6.7 million) of women ages 15-44 have impaired ability to get pregnant or carry a pregnancy to term. 1 in 6 couples are unable to conceive after 12 months of trying (National Institutes of Health, National Institute of Child Health and Human Development). 

Every time we had an appointment with the fertility doctor, I was terrified someone would see me and know that we were struggling to get pregnant. If there would have been more home options a decade ago, I definitely would have tried them. 

I recently heard about an over the counter device that can be used as a first step for couples experiencing infertility. It is called The Stork OTC. The Stork OTC, the only conception assistance device cleared by the FDA for over-the-counter sales to consumers without a prescription, uses an established and effective conception technique—cervical cap insemination—which helps with many common fertility difficulties. With The Stork OTC, consumers finally have an easy, drug-free, economical conception aid they can use at home, without a prescription. You can watch a demo video and learn more about how it is used at www.storkotc.com.

I must disclose that I have never used this product. However, I really wish that The Stork OTC had been around when Hubby and I were trying. I can say with certainty (and not just because I am being compensated for this post) that I would have tried it. It appears to be a sensible and easy first step to use in the privacy of one's own home before heading out to seek more costly and invasive procedures at a specialist's office. It is now available online and in CVS/pharmacy stores. 

If you are on Twitter and want to learn more about The Stork OTC, come participate in a Twitter chat hosted by The Motherhood and The Stork OTC where you will also have a chance to win one of five $50 CVS Pharmacy gift cards. Join us on Thursday, January 15 at 12:00 pm EST. You can also follow The Stork OTC on Facebook. 

I am giving away a trial device to one reader. Just comment below  - it can be anything. You don't have to tell anything too personal (because believe me, I know how hard it is). Just indicate your interest in winning. I will pick a winner totally at random. Honestly, I will put all your names in a jar and have my little fertility baby - my 11 year old - pick a name. Then watch for my comment notification from Disqus. If you don't reply within 24 hours, I will pick a new winner. The product will be sent to you directly from the hosts at The Motherhood. Enter by January 22. 

Having a baby and becoming parents are wonderful experiences. Let The Stork OTC give you some help and hope when you need it. 

This post was brought to you by The Motherhood and The Stork OTC. I have not used this product, but am endorsing it as something that I would try in my opinion. 


The contest is over. The winner is Nicole Dziedzic. I wish everyone could win. Prayers and healthy thoughts to you all!!!

Grief Stories~Waves of Grief

I am so pleased to bring you a story from one of my fellow Sunshine After the Storm contributing authors, Lizzi the non-professional blogger from the beautiful and always truthful blog, Considerings. A deep thinker, truth teller, and seeker of good, Lizzi is the wife to Husby and Mother to two Neverborns, now dealing with the challenge of primary infertility. She explores the cruelty and utter unfairness of early miscarriage and infertility, which women and men often grieve in silence and confusion.

 

 

 

Waves of Grief

There are big waves and little waves,
Green waves and blue.
Waves you can jump over,
Waves you dive through,
Waves that rise up
Like a great water wall,
Waves that swell softly
And don't break at all,
Waves that can whisper,
Waves that can roar,
And tiny waves that run at you
Running on the shore.

Eleanor Farjeon

I knew and loved this poem as a child, but never understood it as a metaphor for grief until late 2012. I’m not even sure the poem is intended as anything other than a pretty description of the movements of the sea, but it made utter sense to me as I’ve tried to come to terms with two early pregnancy losses.

I know there are those who would consider my two children to have ‘not counted’ as ‘real’. Who would dismiss my mourning as over-emotionalisation of a non-event. Or who may acknowledge the dashed hopes and expectations; the snuffing out of potential, but not be willing to grasp the basic scientific fact that, upon conception, what has been created is a human in its very earliest form.

And these human lives, however short, were my children. Perhaps the only two I’ll ever have, as subsequent to the passing of my second ‘Neverborn’ in early 2013, my husband received a diagnosis of primary infertility, due to the rapid progression of a severe endocrine disorder.

I’ve been swamped, overwhelmed and utterly dragged under by this vicious tide of events.

Whether the understanding slowly seeped into my brain or was washed in with the words of another, wiser person, I can’t remember. Those days are too hazy, storm-glazed and opaque as I look back, to determine where the idea first struck me – grief comes in waves.

The first wave was the worst. A tsunami, looming on the horizon, setting the mind spinning “Is that blood? Am I losing my child? So soon? No – it can’t be, it just can’t!” and the dread which became stone cold certainty as the wave loomed closer and, upon confirmation, hit with unimaginable force, sending my soul reeling.

I was utterly unprepared for just how hard this wave would strike, sweeping away not only my hopes and dreams, but my carefully constructed sense of self – what kind of mother can’t hang onto her child? Was I not deserving enough? Too useless to even procreate? Had I done something wrong? Academically I could tell myself that miscarriage happens to 1 in 4 pregnancies; that it was nothing out of the ordinary; that sometimes fetuses just ‘zip up’ wrongly and will never grow beyond a certain stage. Viscerally I was lost.

The waves which came after that were huge, rough, relentless; my heart taking a battering at every turn – how soon could I cope with trying again? What about that awful reminder every month? What about my husband’s health – could we even conceive if we tried? Doctors said yes – then no – then yes again. Then another pregnancy and a stubborn refusal to test or acknowledge it until in the losing of it, the Truth became undeniable. Then the final knell – the sperm count with its (apparently remarkable, though we’d rather it hadn’t been the case) single, solitary swimmer – a drop of opportunity in an ocean of unlikeliness.

Each time I thought I was treading water, another event would bring me back to the horror of that first loss, coupled with the mind-numbing terror that I’d never be able to deliver a live child. And after the second loss, a dread that these children, laid to rest in tiny graves in my mind, would be the only offspring I would know.

But the waves did lessen in intensity. Gradually, imperceptibly, the rigours and routines of daily life took over. I couldn’t stay underwater forever – too much needed doing. I ignored my sea of misery and carried on, doing what needed to be done, even taking up counselling sessions to try to help manage the pain and turbulence.

The waves came further apart. I was better educated now, as to the patterns of grief, and more able to keep them at bay when I walked past baby clothes in the aisle of the grocery store, or saw a tiny newborn snuggled against its happy mother.

I thought I was getting on well and prided myself on ‘getting over it’ but it was a lie – a life half-lived, and a sudden wall of water rose up and took me very deep - I turned to alcohol to block out the pain of loss, the frustration at the impact on my marriage, the distance from my husband. He was cross with me for letting myself get so wasted, and harsh words were exchanged, but gradually the tone changed and we began exchanging Truths.

This wave brought a massive turning point, and as the Truths gave way to tears as I apologised over and over for not being able to nurture our babies, and he apologised for being broken and possibly able to father more, our salt-slicked faces and howls ended up in a curled, sobbing tangle as we both realised that we were just grieving for our Neverborns in different ways, and that we were both hurting massively more than either of us realised. We began to communicate again.

I gradually dragged myself back into the shallows and began to rise, tired, but keen to go on with life. Fed up of crying. Exhausted by the journey. Just hoping for some firm ground beneath my feet and the chance to move forward. It seemed as though the waves of grief were small and lapping at my ankles, but manageable – underfoot and under control.

Then a sneaker wave hit and dragged me back into deep water – I turned 30. That mystical age by which I had always presumed that ‘My Life’ would be underway. I’d be married to a lovely husband, I’d be living in our own little house, and we’d be parents to the first one or two members of a lovely, expanding family. An abyss opened beneath me as I realised the travesty and unrealism of these expectations compared to my reality. So I took the mature response and drowned my sorrows in alcohol again, making myself ill and worrying my friends and family, then spending the next few days apologising, feeling angry, guilty and humiliated.

But again, it was waded through, with my husband, family and friends around me (if concerned about me) and life returned to some semblance of ‘normal’.

The bigger waves have seemed to come more infrequently, and I’ve even begun to see the strange beauty in some of them. I can recognise another who is struggling a deep patch, and try to offer support. I have the small, silver sparkles across the surface, rendered by writing contributions to resources for other women who are going through a similar kind of grief. I am able to connect in new ways, to new people, and share community, encouragement and hope.

The waves of grief, like the sea, will always be there, but they are becoming increasingly manageable, and drag me down for shorter times. One day I anticipate that I will be able to look back at the sea and appreciate the tiny waves of pain and memory, still running on the shore of my life, but no longer overwhelming it, rather contributing to the landscape of the whole.

 

Connect with Lizzi on her blog, and on Facebook and Twitter. Oh, and please buy our book, too!