I am infertile.
It took us almost 2 years to make Jude. The tumultuous process was filled with procedures, shots, and a whole lot of tears. I was plagued with a sense of failure and often felt like I was less of a woman because I was unable to conceive. I watched friends and family members get pregnant and give birth during this chapter in my life. Mixed with guilt for feeling empty and jealous but also feeling immense joy for the new life, I would hold those newborns tight just wishing, praying, and wondering if I was ever going to hold a newborn of my own.
Then Jude came. It was a medication free month, a break to lose weight before we started down the path of IVF. Whether it be my tube flush weeks before, a med build up, or a miracle, we did it. A baby was coming.
From the moment Jude was born, I found myself frantic to soak it all up as deeply as I could. I was weighed down with anxiety and worry. What if this was my only chance? What if something happens to him? My miracle? Will I ever get to experience these firsts ever again? Am I enjoying this enough? Am I remembering enough? It paralyzed me.
There is not a day that has gone past in the last 19 months that I haven't wondered if this was my one. He is perfect and special and my entire world, but I wanted more. I heard over and over again about secondary fertility, and I tried to remain hopeful. We started for number 2 when my cycle returned on Mother's Day of 2019. I attempted to keep my head up failed cycle after failed cycle.
Two weeks ago, I realized that after our 7th unsuccessful cycle that the cold hard truth of the matter was, I am infertile. Again. It's not Jay. It's me. It's my PCOS. It's my body. I am infertile. It was a bitter pill to swallow. I pulled myself up and made a doctor's appointment. Back on the meds we go. Intense tracking. Mood swings. Basal body temperatures. Hope turned to anxiety turned to a feeling of failure and back around again and again and again.
I wish this was a blog to announce number 2, but it's not. It's an honest post about my journey because infertility should not be a secret. 1 in 8 couples experience infertility. ONE IN EIGHT. Why are we made to feel like we shouldn't talk about it? Over 7 million women will struggle to conceive. So this is me, opening up, telling my story, and encouraging others to do the same.
If you are struggling for your first, I see you and I am here for you.
If you are struggling for your second, third, or nineteenth, I see you and I am here for you. The pain is not less because you already have a child. Your feelings are valid.
