The Struggle Is Part Of The Story

When we first started out this journey, I felt the need to share our whole story with all my friends and family. I wanted to share for support. I wasn't looking for approval, I just wanted to know that if I fell from failure, someone was there to catch me. I wanted to share to other infertiles so they know they aren't alone; we aren't alone. When you struggle with infertility, you think it affects just that, your fertility. But the reality is, it affects so much more. Infertility takes a toll on your friendships, relationships, marriage, finances, sleep and really the ins and outs of your daily life. It dictates your schedule and your sex life. It consumes your every word, thought and your whole being. Infertility takes from you living your best life, while you try to create life. Everything requires timing and plans. A six to eight week plan of life to be available at the drop of a dime to just have a chance at creating a new life. Just a chance. I personally would have ...

I was reading an article the other day about a baby born after infertility needing it's own term. That a baby born after a miscarriage or infant loss is a rainbow baby and a baby born before a miscarriage is a sun baby. They also mention the term for babies born asleep, Angel babies. The article said that babies who are conceived after infertility don't have their own term and there needs to be one. So this got me thinking, I had always thought a baby born in the midst of infertility was a rainbow baby?  So I began to ponder, By definition a rainbow is the beauty after the storm. I read this and I thought my struggle is a storm.... It's scary, and dark. It leaves me feeling hopeless at times. My dreams get blown off in the wind. Why wouldn't my baby be a rainbow baby?  After awhile I realized, it doesn't matter what I label my baby. It can be a rainbow baby after my own storm. It can be my warrior baby after a fight I never gave up to be a mother. A little on...

People who have not experienced infertility treatment may think it is so nice to have a planned pregnancy on a schedule. I have heard comments like Wow, how convenient is it that you don't have to do the work of sex and you can actually schedule the day of conception. From the outside looking in, I can see how it might present that way. The idea that its a controlled process, on a specific date with extra help from medical professionals, but convenience and schedules are the last words I would use to describe my infertility treatment. Setting aside the cost of infertility treatment, the treatment itself is, in my opinion, inconvenient. It is solely based on how much I want it so I make it work. I take medication that alters my body, my feelings, my emotions and my thinking. Though this medication lasts only one week, the effects for me are felt about 3 weeks. I follow that with days of tests until one day I get a smiley face and have the privilege of being inseminated the next day...

Having such a big support system is wonderful. They are my rock. The ones I lean on. The call at any time of the night or day to just listen to all my fears. They mean everything to me. However, some nights, I like to sit alone. To think alone. To process alone. To feel things I don't share with anyone. To think things that I keep to myself. With our journey getting more complicated, we are going through more testing. More tests everyone wants answers for that I don't have. Answers that I won't have. For reasons that I don't know. I can ask all the questions and still feel so confused. We keep getting failed tests with no plan on how to pass them. We sit in this gray area with no feeling of being any closer to having a baby. This gray area where we wonder what we can be doing differently to change these tests, but are being told there is nothing for us to do right now. We are failing, but we aren't failing enough for more help, for more direction and more plans. ...

Some women who struggle have no answers to their infertility. On paper they look perfect. Perfect lab tests, numbers, and perfect anatomy. They live with no medical reason to why they cannot have a baby, yet they cannot conceive.  Other women have a whole list of imperfections. Cannot ovulate, blocked tubes, or an underlying medical condition. So which story am I you ask? What got me to where I am today? My story unknowingly started when I was 16 years old. Just a regular teenager, joining the dating life. I considered myself a smart dater. I would do double dates with friends before ever going on a date alone. I thought I always had my bases covered. I didn't lie to my mom about where I was going, and my friends knew to hear from me when I left. I quickly learned no matter how safe you are, or how much you try to protect yourself from the outside world; there are people out there who will do anything and pretend to be anyone just to hurt you.  It was just another movie...

Infertility is a constant battle. You want to tell yourself I can do this, I can be strong; while at the same time you are staring at only one pink line. You want to be excited when you wake up nauseous one morning; only to find it was just bad take out from the night before. Your heart never wants to lose hope while your mind tells you don't give false hope. Month by month the red river flows reminding you of your failure and your loss. While some celebrate in this great gift of mother nature, we crumble at the thought of lost motherhood. I have been on this rollercoaster for 3 years. What you need to remember is you never see a rollercoaster with only one seat. There is always someone beside you. There are cars full of people behind you. All these people who ride the same ride. Strap in and hold on tight. It is time to take the ride of your life to the greatest adventure of your life; motherhood. Stay strong.