There was a time, not too long ago, when getting/staying pregnant would have never entered my mind. Fast forward through 18 months of trying and two miscarriages, and it’s now something I think about all the time.
And somehow, while my pregnancy journey is always part of me, I’m constantly trying to figure out how to put it into words, and it’s been gnawing at me more than usual.
Maybe it’s because the due date for what would have been our first pregnancy just passed.
But more than anything, I think I’m just trying to figure out how to communicate my feelings.
I’ve been thinking about the concept that infertility is not just one thing or idea; it’s different for everyone and can evolve and present itself in so many ways.
So, this is my way of trying to define my own infertility, and hopefully some of you Infertility Warriors can relate.
Living with Uncertainty
I feel like I’ve been handling this pandemic pretty well, and maybe that’s because of infertility.
I have gotten used to things being out of my control, living with anxiety, and making plans for the future even though I have no idea how things are going to turn out.
We never had the chance to tell anyone about our first pregnancy.
When the miscarriage happened, I felt like I had no one to talk to, and I didn’t think I was supposed to talk about it for fear of making people uncomfortable.
The loneliness made the loss worse.
If you are infertile, you are used to having all eyes on you.
Maybe it’s when someone is delivering news of their pregnancy while everyone else is gauging your reaction.
It might be when you’re attending a baby shower after miscarriage or have had no luck getting pregnant.
It’s all about smiling while you’re actually dying inside.
I wish that my body would do what it’s supposed to do.
Since it doesn’t, my husband, doctor, family, and friends all know way too much about how my body does (or doesn’t) function.
And I’ve been feeling less awkward about sharing, which means that I have grown more comfortable with this radical vulnerability.
Making Me a Medical Professional
Okay, not really. But sometimes I feel like one!
Six months ago, I knew nothing about my own body. Today, I know more about the female anatomy than my own mother (and probably her mother).
I wish I had known how important it was to learn about my body. It probably would have pushed me to seek a diagnosis and subsequent treatment sooner.
A Killer of Magic
I wish my husband and I could be one of those couples that has great, drunk sex one night, and two weeks later, I find out that I’m pregnant.
I wish I could surprise him with the exciting news. Instead, our doctor tells us when to get to baby-making — and when to abstain.
A Cruel, Yet Effective Teacher
I’d like to think that I’m stronger than I was before infertility. There are fewer things these days that can take me down as easily.
I am learning empathy for others’ pain, as well as how to temper my expectations and how to keep pushing forward when I would rather fall apart.
More Infertility Articles
- Infertility support groups
- Stress and infertility
- PCOS infertility
- Using donor eggs
- What is embryo adoption?
- Katy’s infertility story
- Laura’s story of premature ovarian failure