I was really uncertain how I would handle my infertility past in New York. On one hand I pride myself on being a positive advocate for infertility treatment and on my ability to use my writing talents to help other women. I am not ashamed of the road I took to build my family and am thankful daily, hell hourly, of the science that made my baby possible.
On the other hand, some days I’m ready to move forward. For us there will be no more treatment unless we hit a financial jackpot – there just is not enough money to go through this again. So using more science to make another baby is out. The chances of my ovaries magically springing to action is pretty damn low, too, so I am coming to terms with this being it. Sabine is our one, our only, our perfect baby girl. I am thankful to the moon and back for this one chance.
With no more treatment on the horizon, do I want to let these new families in on our “secret?” Is this “secret” mentality really good for my crusade to put infertility and it’s treatment into a more positive light, though? It’s a tough choice. The first week or so I was just vague with folks. When asked if we were going to have more children I simply said that no, it took years for us to have Sabine and we are eternally grateful for our miracle. She will be our only.
There were no details into what all we went through to conceive. No public sermons about infertility treatment and how strongly I feel that it should be covered by insurance. No mention of Scrambled Eggs. Nothing. For all intents and purposes I am just some girl who sucks at monitoring her cycles and kept missing ovulation month after month.
Honestly, I felt like a fraud. I want to tell people about Sabine’s creation. I am proud of the road we took to bring her home. I am proud of how strong my marriage is to withstand it. I am proud of the men and women working in labs finding new ways to improve reproductive technologies. I am so fucking proud of all these virtual women I have connected with, who have cheered me on despite their struggles, who come back to this blog for inspiration as they press on, who laugh at my dumb mistakes and cry with my losses. This little virtual world has come to mean so much to me that it seems terrible to check it at the door.
I opened up to three mamas I feel closest to this week. We were discussing when we are returning to work and what we are planning to do. I shared my hopes to become a trainer and work with women struggling through infertility and then i shared our IVF story.
A little while later one mama shared that she has PCOS and thought conception might not happen. She was a lucky one and shortly after tossing the birth control got a positive pregnancy test. Another mama has severe endometriosis and worried she would also struggle. She was lucky, too. The third mama struggled for two tearful years. I don’t know how much treatment she went through, as I don’t pry, but she said she was at the end of her rope and in therapy right before they got their positive. They were ready to live child-free, keep their one bedroom and move on.
Three women, three stories. All echoing mine in one way or another. All of us lucky.
It’s hard to keep up this public face, but I feel it is important for both my healing and the healing of other women. I will share my past in New York. I will be open when we celebrate Sabine’s transfer day and fertilization day. Hell, I might invite all the mamas over for cake on Fertilization Day! Why not celebrate the miracle that is my special conception?
How do you feel about sharing after you have “made it to the other side.” Will you be open about the time it took and the science you used? How will you talk about this with your child/children one day? Will you celebrate Transfer Day or Fertilization Day, too?