There are few experiences during this infertility thing where you feel empowered. The moments are few and far between, and you will find that when you get them, you will begin to savor them and never want them to end. The Fertility For Colored Girls‘ 2nd Annual “Hats, Heels, and Hankies Tea”, was one of those experiences.
I mean, if you really look at this thing, and some of the moves we have to make, infertility fighters deserve our own theme music.Some of us are doing more with our day before we even get to work, than others will do all week. Go ahead, toot your…
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.
I thought the entire time, I would get pregnant and that this would all be over. No one warned me that this is not a fight for the weak and that it lasts a lifetime. I was never this tough.
If I knew then, what I know now, I might have never started this fight. My story is just what I described in previous posts, and to be honest I’d spent too much money to quit. After breaking my flexible spending account in February of 2011, like a bad gambling habit I was too far gone. The former me could never inject herself in the stomach with anything, and would never have paid that much for an injection of anything.
This past week, I was absolutely floored to see a good blog buddy, Jay, over at The 2 Week Wait be heckled on her site because she is currently pregnant. A reader basically got offended that the site discusses infertility at all, and ranted that Jay should rename it because she is obviously no longer in “the wait”. This hurt my heart because it adds just one more hurdle for this community. Infertility is hard enough without adding the fear of success onto the fear of failure. We need as many voices in this fight as possible, and that includes those of us who’ve made it to the other side. Isn’t that the goal, anyway?
Followers of The Egg, know that from time to time, one brave sister, Mimi, or BrokenBrownBelle as we call her, submits an entry that chronicles her personal infertility battles. In this three-part post, she will describe just how it feels to be a pregnant infertile who is finally close to being on that other side.