Some background: I just delivered our son (hence the belated post. I don’t know what day it is most of the time). My husband and I went through PGD & IVF in order to not pass on my husband’s muscular dystrophy. Our son came to us after two failed IVFs. I feel like the luckiest woman alive, every moment of my life. Even at 3am feedings. Especially at 3am feedings.
I’ve said What IF thousands of times during my struggle with infertility. After my second failed IVF, when I hit rock bottom in my heart, when we only had enough money for one more try, when I was convinced that I’d never have the family I wanted, when I couldn’t stand 99% of the people in my life because they had oops babies, when no one said the right thing, when I was merely surviving and not living life, this wave of What IFs hit me:
What IF I was no longer afraid?
What IF I saw that all I needed was not outside of myself, but within myself?
Having a child doesn’t erase infertility. I still struggle, but in new ways. I feel different from most parents. They complain about sleep deprivation, I am grateful for it. They worry about what school their kid will go to, I’m glad to have worries that involve children. Infertility changed me. I feel stronger and more solid in my decisions. I know what I want. I don’t stress about the What IFs because I know my husband and I can handle anything that comes our way.
Now I wonder:
What IF each of us knew our strength going into infertility rather it being a lesson afterwards?
Happy belated National Infertility Awareness Week. Although, for me, every day is National Infertility Awareness Week.
