Dear Infertility... You Still Suck
I wanted to share a blurb from an old blog I used to have. Two actually. The first part was written 2-3 year into our infertility journey and then the second part was a new blog post written 5 year into our infertility journey. I unfortunately cannot find the original posts, I guess I did not save them anywhere but I did save these snippets.
"Dear Infertility... You suck. You are a silent enemy, creeping in when I least expect and choosing to stay. I never expected you. I assumed that getting pregnant would be so easy. I never knew how hard trying to conceive was. You showed me how naïve I was.
I thought I could ignore you and keep myself busy. But you continue to show up and make your presence known. In all the questions from well-wishers who ask, “How many kids do you have?” or “When will you start having kids?” I see my husband goofing around with my nieces and nephews; I see him holding my playing, laughing with our friends’ kids. Like daggers to my heart, reminding me what I do not have.
Dear Infertility... You still suck. You've stolen so many moments from me. Moments that should've been filled with joy and hope but were instead replaced with tears and frustration.
After five long years of walking this road with you, I recently learned the truth I had been dreading: both of my fallopian tubes are blocked, and the doctor doesn't believe we'll ever get pregnant naturally.
This news was both painful and, in a strange way, comforting. It marks the end of a long season of waiting and hoping, of wondering if maybe this month would be different . While part of me is relieved to finally have an answer, there's also deep sadness. Letting go of the hope that we might get pregnant naturally is a loss in itself, and I'm still grieving that.
Yes, IVF is an option, but for now, we are content. We're soaking in every beautiful moment with our son, whom we adopted, and loving this season of being his parents. And while the road with infertility may not be over, I'm learning that it doesn't have the same power over me anymore. It doesn't define my joy, and it certainly doesn't define my family.
Infertility, you've taken so much from me, but I refuse to let you define my future.
Because while you may be a part of my story, you are not the end of it."
It has now been a year and a half since getting my diagnosis and writing that last snippet. So much has changed during this time, and yet nothing has changed with my infertility or with moving forward with IVF.
And recently I find myself grieving once again. Grieving about the age gap my children will have. And while I know that it is normal to have 4-5 years of an age gap, I had originally wanted a 2 year gap. I also am grieving that I will be in my 50s when my children graduate high school. I am grieving that we might only have 2 kids instead of the 4 that we once hoped for.
And while these things I am grieving really aren't all that important, I can't help once again grieve the vision I once had for my life as I watch it die again and again. And that is one of the recent hardest things about experiencing infertility this long. It's that I had a vision for my life and then infertility. So I pivot and change course and start dreaming up a new vision. And then infertility. So I pivot once again and change course and then infertility.
I am less devastated by infertility and the uncertainty of it that I felt the first time I wrote the blog post "Dear Infertility... You Suck." And I don't quite have that relief that I had when I got my diagnosis 1 1/2 years ago. Now I feel more like "Ugg, I'm still dealing with this."
So here is my updated letter to Infertility.
Dear Infertility... you are like a sliver that I can't get out. Just like a sliver, you are painful when I bump up against you. And you are pesky and annoying and in the back of my mind. I can't get rid of you but you aren't quite as painful as you once were.
You are like spam texts and junk mail. You just keep showing up no matter how many times I try to block your number.
You are like the spiders I keep finding in my shower. Persistent and relentless and won't go away.
I am tired of you. But also I know that I have been so deeply changed by you. For the last 6 1/2 years you have been present. And you have wrecked havoc in my life. There were times when the grief overwhelmed me and I felt broken. There was a time that I felt utterly hopeless. The majority of my marriage has been shadowed with infertility. I am not that overly optimistic, unrealistic, all things will work out girl that I once was. Sometimes I hate how you have changed me.
But at the same time, you have made me stronger, more patient, more empathetic. You have pushed me to do the work on myself that I didn't even know needed to me done. You have challenged me to find meaning and purpose and hope in my life when circumstances are sucky. It is because of you that I have slowed down in life, that I am able to enjoy the simple everyday moments, that I have grown in my creativity and my love for reading.
You still suck! And I still hate how you have changed me. But I do really like who I have become. I really enjoy the life that I have now. I love where I have ended up.
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If anyone is reading this and is also going through infertility, maybe you are at the beginning of your journey and you are facing the uncertainty and the grief and my heart goes out to you! Maybe you are somewhere in the middle like me and at this point it is what it is, though it is still hard, I'm right there with you sister! Or maybe you are 10-20+ years into it, I would love any advice you have!
Anyways, as always, thanks for reading!
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