but are you really infertile

When someone tells me a story of someone they know who was infertile but got "pregs" doing this or that the first time I get a competitive feeling, were they really infertile? Do they really know what it means to feel your hopes get torn apart month after month? Do they know they physical and emotional toll that fertility drugs and infertility in general put on a person? Do they know the slight twinge of pain felt each time a friend or family member announces they are expecting?

I am trying to work on reminding myself that this journey is hard for all women who have to embark on it, not just me. The pain in my heart is so real though. Who ever expects that they will be told at 26 that they will likely reach menopause by 35. 35, what? That is supposed to be the age where I enter the high risk zone, not the age where I start to relate to women in their 50's!

My heart is breaking, I can't stop crying. Having babies isn't supposed to be this hard, not when you are 26. Looking at blogs and facebook has become harder as more friends post about their ups and downs of parenthood. When they post about their frustrations or fleeting anger it takes restraint for me to stop myself from replying, be grateful you have that problem. What I wouldn't give to have that problem. I made my sister feel bad the other day when she said something about having to fly across the country with a baby, I replied saying I wish I had that problem. It made her feel guilty, it made me feel bad because I hurt her.

But my heart is breaking and yet I have to remind myself that it could be worse for me. At least I still have a chance to have my own baby. Something about talking eggs and fertilization and sperm counts takes the magic out of baby making but I have to realize that modern science is magic, it is what is giving me the chance to have children. I promise myself this, if I get that chance, I will be so grateful. I will cherish those moments because they are hard to come by and not all women get them.

Home for the holidays

I went home over the holiday break, it was wonderful to see friends and family. Many of them gave me hugs and told me how often they think and pray for me. It made me feel loved. On the flip side I had to sit through many long conversations about pregnancy, infants and motherhood which hurt. I sat through it, saying as little as possible to help me stop myself from bursting into tears, especially when one friend exclaimed, "this is the first time in years none of us have been pregnant!" A simple, harmless statement that felt like salt in the wound.

I was able to hold all my friends babies without crying, but I did cry in conversations with friends and sobbed my way through asking a dear friend for a recommendation for adoption (apparently I am not ready to complete that process yet).

I am trying not to be upset with myself for losing control emotionally and accept that it is all a part of the experience of infertility.

A search for normalcy

All of the less aggressive treatments have failed. I have two options left, IVF and adoption. I am taking several months off all treatments to help myself reload. I had no idea how physically and emotionally testing fertility treatments would be. After spends months on the verge of tears every day, I feel like I am slightly re-claiming myself. The emotions are still there and they are still very real but I can at least control them and not feel like my life is controlled by infertility.

I have also decided it is time to change doctors. I feel really good about this decision, I need a doctor who is paying attention to my treatments and who takes time to explain any complications to me. I have been checking out fertility centers across the US and have found a couple that I am going to check out, I think this will be good to help me feel like I am still being proactive about my situation while not on treatments.

I have a hard time talking about infertility these days. I often feel the need to talk to someone about it but I have a hard time keeping it in balance with other things in my life, I don't want it to be all consuming and the only thing I can talk about. At the same time sometimes it overwhelms me with emotion and I need an outlet.

I am doing better about being able to be happy for those who are pregnant and with children, which I am proud of. At the same time I long for what they have. I have vowed over and over again if I ever do get pregnant I will not complain about it, I will celebrate the fact that I GET the chance to have that experience. I do feel that to an extent I will be able to appreciate it more because I know so well the pain associated with not being able to get pregnant and longing for it.

the young and infertile

I am a member of the RESOLVE online support groups. I gather that many women under 30 feel separate not only from their more fertile peers but often the other women in the infertile community. I often see posts asking if there is anyone else in their 20's going through this. For many of us in our 20's infertility is a slap in the face, this is supposed to be my most fertile time of life. And then when one finds they have to realign their expectations many start looking for books or websites of women who have had similar experiences.

There are books and websites, the problem is that most of these infertility books and websites virtually ignore women in their 20's. Sure, many of the feelings and experiences will be similar to those of women in their late 30's and 40's but many of our emotions and experiences will be different as well. Where is the support system for the women in their peak fertile years?

relax

I started reading the Infertility Survival Guide over the weekend, so far I have mixed feelings about it. One thing that has really stuck with me though is the repeated sentiment of frustration to people telling you to "just relax." This has been something that has often been repeated to me by loving and concerned family members. I try to explain that I do try to relax. There is only so much relaxation I can achieve though, and things that are holding me back are often not related to infertility. School and work are just as much to blame for non-zen feelings as infertility. I liked that this book pointed out that there is no medical backing to the "just relax" sentiment.

On a different note, has anyone ever tried alternative medicines in their infertility journey? Like acupuncture or yoga?

living in thirty day increments

Lately I feel like I live my life in thirty day increments, or twenty eight if we are being exact. Fertility changes the pattern. 1 week of pills+1 week of shots+2 weeks of waiting= 1 month of counting days. Time has taken on a different meaning, I can feel it passing. I am 25 now but if I get pregnant I will be 26 and possibly close to 27 when I have a child. Which means it won't be until 28 or 29 that I have another child. I try not to think about it too much because it gives me anxiety.

Everything changed the day my Dr. explained FSH levels to me. All of a sudden I went from plenty of time to build a family to "if you want more than one child we start right now." Shell shock is the only way to describe how I felt at that moment. People try and comfort me with reminding me how young I am and that there is plenty of time. All I want to do is yell that time is running out, it doesn't matter how young I am because my baby making days will be gone long before theirs will. Youth doesn't help me.

appreciation

I hope that if/when I get pregnant that I will really take the time to appreciate what a miracle it is. The thought that women are cavalier when talking about getting pregnant often upsets me. I want to yell at them to appreciate that they can get pregnant, to appreciate those small moments because there are so many of us who go to great lengths to achieve those moments.

The day I had to learn to inject myself with hormones was a an eye opener for me. It was a turning point for me. From that point on I have struggled to keep a positive attitude about this experience. The potential joy of pregnancy is over shadowed by almost weekly doctor appointments, constant drugs and their side effects. It can be so exhausting. At times I want to throw in the towel. I have lent a friend the pregnancy clothes that I bought when I first started trying, when I thought getting pregnant would be easy. I can't stand to have them in my closet mocking me anymore. I keep reminding myself that it is all worth it. This blog post helped. One of those things that popped up on my google reader and made me think, this is just what I need right now. Perspective.