For You, During National Infertility Awareness Week
On figuring out how to manage the chaos of it all
Hey, you. You've been trying to have a baby for a little while now. Maybe it's been six months. Perhaps it's been a year. Maybe it's been two. Maybe it's been more than you care to count, but you're in the thicket of it right now. You're taking a test every month, and your heart gets a little crushed when you don't see two little lines. You're scouring the internet looking for answers. You're trying to hold onto hope. To be positive. Maybe you're seeing a fertility specialist. Perhaps you're in the middle of a cycle of IUI or IVF.
Either way, you're part of a club that breaks the heart and hurts the spirit.
It's maddening to go through school and life and teenage years and college years and constantly fear getting pregnant before you're ready - only to have it not happen when you want to hold your baby in your hands.
It's maddening, and it sucks, and even though I am a poet, there is nothing poetic that I can say to make your wounds feel a little less raw. To make the sting hurt a little less.
Infertility breaks hearts.
IVF is not for the faint of heart, either.
But hey, you're reading this now, so perhaps I can give you something—a healthy dose of optimism, a laugh, and the comfort that you're not alone. Because I've been where you are - and as I try to have my second child, I'm still where you are.
But I have learned some things along the way that have helped make this journey a little easier, and perhaps they'll help you, too:
Drink the coffee. I know, I know, you want to be clean. To feel like you're doing everything possible to give yourself the best shot at making a loving, welcoming home for your little embryo. But you're allowed to have 200mg of caffeine daily - and you know what? ENJOY IT. You deserve it. Should you drink a whole pot? Probably not. But it's ok to have that latte.
RSVP 'NO' to the things that break your spirit. You don't have to go to the baby shower if you don't want to, the first birthday party, or the preschool graduation celebration. You are allowed to pick social engagements that keep you afloat and do not sink you even further.
Find doctors that you trust. Your medical team should listen to you. They should be organized. They should make you feel calm and supported and that they care about creating your family just as much as you do. You should not feel like a number but like a human. You're allowed to change your providers if you feel like something isn't working. It's not math class. It's your body - and your future family.
Let yourself do other things besides IVF madness. The internet can be a rabbit hole and black hole where the time goes to die - but you can read more novels that will make your heart happy. And dig into some excellent television. And start running, or knitting, or making sourdough bread like it's 2020. The point is that while IVF is a massive part of your life, it's so important to let it not become your entire life. So take the trip. Pick up the book. Start writing. Go out with your girlfriends. Remember to keep living.
Your body, your pace. You get to decide how fast or slow you want to go. You get to decide if you need a break. You get to decide if you want to keep going. You get to decide. You. So proceed accordingly.
Hold onto your hope wherever you find it—in your spouse, in your loved ones, in God or the Universe, or in the music that gives you the strength to go in for another treatment. You are being made into someone beautifully uncommon, and even though this road can feel a little dark at times, it's imperative to remember to pay attention to where the light gets in.
xo,
Megan