There were more appointments then ever. And instead of reading about people talking about beating PCOS and drifting into motherhood, the talk had turned to talk to exclusively the word miscarriage. That word could strike fear in my heart like no needle ever could and it was suddenly everywhere.
Oh my God, could I have come this far only to spend every set aside dime and then lose my baby?!? This never was a thought to me until we started with the injections. The second I was asked to spend a lump sum, and get down to penniless for this “project”, it occurred to me that women lose babies everyday. I wanted to think of the worst case scenario and ask myself if I could handle whatever that was. Could I deal with the bills I was getting from the infertility clinic, the money I’d spent trying to get pregnant, the surgeries I’d had and then the possible threat of miscarriage?
I had never asked myself that question before, I was afraid to. I never brought the word up. I thought if I didn’t, it would definitely decrease my chances of it and at least preserve my sanity. But, suddenly people were coming forward bringing that word to me and I could not escape the thought.
So, it has been a while since I’ve taken the time to actually POST some tidbits here on the site. And it is all your fault. See, most of you follow The Egg on Facebook and we have such great conversations there, that by the time I get over here, I have nothing else to say because we’ve talked it to death over the course of a day!
But, getting back to what this site was created for, and beyond the “business” sides, I have to get my thoughts out once more. And, even in the year 2012…some people don’t use Facebook. I know, I know, perish the thought. But it dawned on me that for those who don’t use Big Blue, there is little to no way of knowing what is going on right now with me if I don’t post it here. So here I am. Have a seat, let’s chat.
So, when I originally became a member of the embattled, tough girls of infertility lifestyle, I thought the best way to make myself strong, was to completely act un-phased by things that were the cliche and highly stereotypical discomforts for infertile women. People assume that we are all textbook cases of teen -pregnancy haters, bitter stepmothers, and weepy weak women who can’t bare to lay eyes on children until they have their own. I was so busy avoiding becoming that woman, that I totally have been blindsided by my newest archnemesis: “Crazy with Anticipation Paranoia Chick”
Seriously, if you haven’t met or become her, consider yourself lucky.