An Open Letter

To All The Parents Who've Spotted My Belly,

It's the first question you ask when you recognize my bump as a something more than just too many cookies.  "Is this your first?"  Such a loaded question.

Yes, it's my first pregnancy.  I'm so blessed.  So many women having babies after loss must have a much harder time with this question than I do.  Still, it's a tough question to answer.

My first child?  Well yes, kind of.  She's my only, she's a culmination of years of struggle and pain, she's a gift, she's my everything.

How do I make you understand that without letting you into my private world?  I'm pregnant, but I'm infertile.  I know this may be an oxymoron to you.  Just by virtue of having a disease, I feel like I need to educate you and show you how hurtful your off-handed comments can be.  I know you mean well, and I'm not offended by your question, but it still stings.  Asking if she's my first is expecting that there will be more and my baby collection is just starting.  I know I can't make you understand that this is it for us.  If I tell you she's our only, you'll ask why.  If I tell you how lucky we were to get this one, you'll tell me about your cousin's best friend's sister's hairdresser who got pregnant naturally after IVF.  It's great that you have hope for a miracle, but my husband and I have accepted this life we've been given.  When you insist that other children will come, you're suggesting that what we have isn't good enough.  It's more than good enough for us.  It's wonderful.

I don't want to tell you that my eggs can't be fertilized without having a doctor inject them with a chosen sperm.  I don't want to tell you that my embryos need help to hatch.  I don't want to tell you that my body has to go through three months of menopause before my lining is receptive to implantation.  I don't want to tell you that I have to be on birth control despite my infertility just to avoid constant pain.  I don't want to tell you because I'm tired of telling you.  I've been sticking up for my limping womb for years and I need a break.  I just want to look forward to being a mom.  A mom to one amazing little gift.

So just smile and say that she's our first while I listen to your war stories on birth and parenting, but I wish you really knew.  She's so much more than a first.