Over the past few months, I’ve come to connect with some really amazing women through blogging. I think it takes awhile to find your place in the blog-world, just like it does with any other thing in life. I’ll be honest and say that I really didn’t think this would be a means to developing friendships.
I’ve exchanged some really great emails with some truly wonderful people. And lately these emails seem to be about infertility. I guess I am just drawn to posts about it. Writing meaningful comments on those blogs. And so the conversations and sharing begins. Friendships.
I’ve never written on my blog about the fact that I went through five-plusyears of fertility treatments. I’ve never written about how devastating it is, how emotional it is. I’ve never written about the fact that it can suck the life out of your marriage and completely alienate you from friends and family. It really was the most difficult time of my life.
I exchanged emails with another blogger and this response to her really sums it up well for me:
I ended up adopting actually. I couldn’t take that roller coaster any longer. You know how you read into every sign after you ovulate? Well magnify the emotions by fifty when …
1. Your hopes are high because the doctor gave you new meds and positive thoughts.
2. You’re hormonally insane because the meds have your brain all over the place.
It’s honestly a lot to take. My gut told me to adopt from the first year into it, but I just could not get off the constant hope the doctors gave me. Every time they change your medication or dose, it gives you renewed hope. It’s awful. I kept thinking … “just one more try so I have no regrets.”
I don’t have regrets even now … because any single change in what I did would mean that I wouldn’t have MY son. He’s amazing … and I feel really lucky that God sent him my way …
I think it’s one of those things you have to figure out for yourself.
I wish you all the best….no matter what you decide.
My husband and I adopted our son. I woke up one morning and I knew I was just done with fertility treatments. I knew I had lost sight of my goal. To be a mom. Period. A mom. And while I would LOVE to write the story of how my son came into our lives, because it really was fate and amazing, I don’t believe it’s my story to tell. It’s my son’s story to tell (or not). But I will say this … we are nothing but honest and open to him about it. And he’s the best thing that’s ever come into my life. If you are a regular here, you have seen how I write about him and how much I adore him.
When I look back at it … the pregnancy (or lack there of) is of zero importance to me now. The day he was born has no less of a wonderful story just because he didn’t pass through my uterus.
If there was a plus to my five years of “hard labor,” it is this: I KNOW I am a more understanding, compassionate and loving person because of it. On the humorous side of It … I no longer have any shred of modesty left. I don’t believe there was any intern or doctor in the ob/gyn program at my local hospital who did not get a view of me naked from the waist down.
It’s all good now.
To anyone currently going through fertility treatments … I wish you too …