Something You Hope You Never Have to Do.
So much of my life I have known that I wanted to have children. I believed that having unprotected sex with my boyfriend, who then became my husband, would eventually lead to pregnancy. When H and I decided to try and have a baby (or two) I did my research and charted my cycles and believed that all I had to do was add sperm to the mix, and I’d get pregnant.
Little did I know. Those bad cramps? Endometriosis. That cyst removal? Left one whole ovary useless. Infertility took so much from me. The ability to enjoy a pregnancy, to see a positive pee stick and believe in a take-home baby. It has jaded me to a lot of things.
But more? It’s broken my heart. More than once. Month after month, until the twins were conceived, it broke my heart. And then it broke my heart again this last summer.
Infertility has broken the hearts of many of my friends. It’s a horrible gift that keeps on giving. It finds its way into how you parent if you eventually do have children. It colors your responses to the pregnancy announcements of fertile friends. It can’t be cured. It can only be beaten. But it is always part of you.
And I hope I never have to watch either of my children go through it.
I hope I never have to hold my daughter as she cries wondering if she will ever be a mother.
I hope I never have to watch my son wonder if he will ever have a child to call his own.
I hope I never have to answer the phone and hear my daughter cry that it didn’t work again this month.
I hope that my son never has to come to me and ask when it will be his turn to be a father.
I have a wealth of knowledge about infertility. About treatment. About tracking cycles, and complementary treatments and reproductive endocrinologists. I know how to walk someone through an IVF cycle, how to keep people busy during the two-week-wait, and how to hold someone as they cry and try to move onto the next cycle.
I have all of this information, and I know how to do these things.
And I hope that I never have to use any of it with my children.