F-word of the Day: Fertility

Song of the Day: Unpretty by TLC

I always think if only. If only I had known these things when I was younger. If only we hadn't wasted so much time before trying. If only I hadn't stepped foot in that particular therapy clinic. If only my doctors could have gotten me better faster. If only I had met my husband a little earlier. But these things aren't possible; I shouldn't torture myself by thinking of them; there are reasons why we are where we are. There is nothing that we can do. These things are out of our control. I comfort myself with the thought that God knows what He is doing. Still, I walk around with part of me missing most of the time and I push it away. I carry the battle scars of my fight against infertility beneath the surface of myself with me everywhere, only allowing thoughts of babies and prenatal anything to bother me on those days when yet another friend announces yet another pregnancy. I hate the fact that I can't be completely happy for them; this selfish witch isn't the person I used to be.

My fight against infertility included 3 miscarriages; 486 visits to the reproductive endocrinologist; 448 blood tests; 322 transvaginal sonograms; $3,368.44 spent on ovulation prediction kits; $4,127.36 spent on home pregnancy tests; and a whopping $82,400 spent on visits to the doctor, exams, and procedures. This list does not include all of the time and money I spent on holistic treatments and natural supplements, and it fails to address the countless hours I spent poring over books and websites. Nor does it include the emotional toll the process took on my husband and me. Each failed cycle ended in debilitating depression. 

I can vividly recall the last time we found out that we had had yet another unsuccessful cycle. It was a rainy spring morning; after returning home from the clinic, I lay in bed listening to the raindrops hit the window and air conditioner. Each clap of thunder seemed to punctuate the end of our fight to become parents. I was exhausted and bereft of the energy and motivation to keep fighting.

At first, I woke up each morning and the first thought that entered my mind was that no matter how hard I tried to fill things up with light and sun and laughter, there was still this tiny, tight knot of sadness within me, and no matter how much I hid it or rubbed away at it, I couldn’t seem to make it disappear. 

I won't lie. It still hurts at times, but making the conscious decision to stop trying and to focus solely on regaining my health helped. A LOT. It also helped when I stopped trying to pretend it didn't bother me. That entailed withdrawing from some of my well-intentioned but tactless friends who automatically assumed that my childless state made me the ideal candidate for babysitting and baby-shower-throwing. I've thrown 17 baby showers and I have 23 godchildren and commit to remembering milestones and spending time with them. I have the sweetest nieces and nephews who call me everyday (mainly about homework) and who provide me with all of the cuddles and kisses an aunt can ask for. On top of that, I love and remember every single one of the sweet and lovely students I have been fortunate enough to work with.

Now, I'm frequently amazed at how laid-back I have become about being childless. And I like it. Even though we aren't parents, we can still dream about the future and we can still be happy. I don't need to have anyone by my side in order to be fulfilled; and if I did have to choose someone, it would be my husband (and my dog). When he (my husband) senses that I am depressed or stressed, he holds my hand and hugs me and I think, "Yes, this is right; this is the way it should be,"  and I can see that life is good - F-words be damned.

At the same time, I understand that others may not feel the same way. My heart aches for everyone waiting breathlessly for their good news. I did an email blast for Fertility Friends earlier today. If you haven't already, please take a minute to donate. Everyone who wants to try to conceive should be able to do so without having to worry about finances. With the help of a good friend, we will be matching every dollar donated.