Infertility is hard - like really gut-wrenching, heart-breaking hard.
3 years (and counting) of waiting is a long time. And the worst part of it is, I don't know how much longer it will be until we can meet our future baby.
And we REALLY want to meet them.
I spend a lot of the time reading articles and books about infertility and PCOS. I guess I'm trying to fill the time that I would spend caring for a baby. I've had surgeries and procedures, taken tons of medications, more blood tests than I can count, and I don't even know how much money we've spent on ovulation and pregnancy tests. Month after month of disappointment really begins to weigh on a person.
I was very bitter for awhile. It seemed as if EVERYONE was getting exactly what I wanted and just couldn't have. I found myself depressed, angry, and obsessing over how horrible my life seemed. Not only were people we knew getting pregnant once, but they had the audacity to have a second baby... Before we even had our first?! I couldn't walk through the store without seeing a pregnant woman and instantly turning away. I couldn't be happy for friends who were able to get pregnant within the first few months of "trying". I would cry seeing baby clothes at the store. As you can imagine, my emotions were getting a little out of hand.
Then a few months ago I had a realization. I saw this woman waddling through the store and instantly felt mad at her. WHAT? I thought to myself - how freaking silly. I don't know her. I've never walked (or waddled) in her shoes. Maybe she got pregnant after 3 years of trying and enduring infertility treatments. Maybe she had lost a baby. Maybe she had no trouble at all. And then it hit me - whatever her story was, she didn't get pregnant to HURT ME. She probably got pregnant because she wanted the same things I did; she wanted to be a mom and she was going to love her baby, no matter how much I wished that I had what she had. So instead of looking away, I decided to smile at her.
I realized that I may never get pregnant - and that is the cold hard truth. It won't be the end of the world, and it will hurt like hell, but I will be ok. I'll be a mother - whether I get pregnant, adopt, foster, get a surrogate, or whatever else. I WILL be a mother.
It doesn't make me any less of a woman because I can't get pregnant (whether that's just for now, or forever). It doesn't mean that my life is not worth living. After all, I have so much to be thankful for - a wonderful caring husband, a home, food in my fridge, healthcare, a bed to sleep in at night, a job that I love, and the Lord helping me along the way. I came to understand how ungrateful I was being. I had so many things that so many people around the world would die for and I needed to stop taking my blessings for granted.
Life is not meant to be miserable - but everyone has hard times. There are people who have many more hard times than I can even comprehend. When I smiled at that woman with swollen ankles and tired eyes that I envied so much, I finally understood; if we can smile through the hard times and endure the pain of our trials we can be happy, even when it seems like things are falling apart. Her returned smile changed my attitude and helped me begin to find my happiness through infertility.
I know that I'm still going to have bad days, and there will be days that I will still complain and cry and wonder why me? But I know that if I grin and bear it through the rough times, I will come out stronger than I ever have been.
I want to take my experiences, good and bad, and use them for the greater good. I want to help other women who are in my situation, try and see a light at the end of the tunnel, because there is an end of the long tunnel of infertility. And if I can reach and touch the life of just one of the other 7 million women going through infertility, I will know that all of this time and pain we've endured will have been worth it.
Join us as we learn to enjoy the good times and "grin and baer it" through the not so good.
-Kailey
