It started with my OB. Honestly, reason number 9,973,250 why I wish your RE could be your forever OB/GYN. At my 6 week visit she was all about talking about a VBAC for "the next baby." I tried to stay calm and just say, "We're so blessed to have her that we're really okay with just one." She answered with, "Not there yet, huh?" I said, "Getting pregnant was really hard." She just grinned. I wondered how much she actually knew about me. Not to be melodramatic, but 3 rounds of IVF and a 4 transfers is kind of a big deal. I certainly know which of my patients have more ear drama than others. You'd think a gynecologist would remember which patients had reproductive drama. Anyway, that conversation started the end of my acceptance zen.
The next domino to fall came in the form of my maternity clothes. I had to get my sweaters in the closet and that meant pulling out the maternity stuff. I left them all in a pile in the middle of the closet for a week. God love J, he didn't say a work about it. Eventually I brought it up to him. I didn't know what to do with them. Do I go ahead and donate them or do I keep them, just in case? He was very wise. He told me to put them in a bag, stick it under the bed, and worry about it later. So I did.
The final domino came when Chipmunk outgrew her first outfit. Same dilemma. Do I go ahead and donate it, or do I keep it, just in case? I took the same advice. I put it in a bag, stuck it under the bed, and I'll worry about it later.
Whenever Chipmunk meets a milestone, I have a pang of sadness. I've always been the person who celebrates milestones because they mean a new beginning. It hasn't been that way with parenthood. I'm sad that I'll never see a first smile again, or hold a tiny sleeping baby for hours on end. I hate that I'll never again hear a newborn cry meant just for me to answer. I need to stop that. I just want to enjoy my little bits. I feel another ghost child emerging and I don't want her following me around for the next several years. I have this beautiful life. Amazing gifts are all around me and I'm going to enjoy them. I'm not going to be infertile for awhile. I'm putting it in a bag, sticking it under the bed, and worrying about it later.
Don't get me wrong, I have infertility. I'm not denying that, but I'm not going to be infertile right now. Infertility is not going to be a defining feature of my existence. It can be something I have, but not something I am. I just want to be a mom. A happy, flourishing mom who can give everything she's got to her kid. Infertility isn't taking that away from me. So it's going in a bag.
That's why I haven't been posting much and I wanted to let y'all know that that probably won't be changing anytime soon. I'll update this space on occasion, but I can't promise loads of posts. I just need to step away for awhile. I'm still reading your blogs and cheering for those in the trenches, but I'll admit - I haven't been commenting with the vigor I used to. It's hard to find where I fit and I'm really okay with being the square peg.
I understand now why people suddenly act like they had no trouble conceiving and everything is hunky dory. That doesn't feel right for me, but I understand it better. I'm not living the infertile life right now. It's trying to follow me around like toilet paper stuck on my shoe, but I want it off. I want to find a different way to be a champion for this community and to find that place, I need to celebrate what this journey has brought us. I mean, look at this face!
I love all of you in sisterly way and am so grateful that I've had you on this journey. I don't think I've ever expressed that adequately. I would have given up a thousand times if I hadn't had the encouragement from all of you. It's not just words on a page. I know that you were thinking of me when I was having procedures just like I think of you when you are in a cycle. That's an awesome community to be a part of. I'm so happy to have found all of you ladies.
