Today is the last photo challenge day of National Infertility Awareness Week. The theme, Show Your Resolve, kind of threw me off for a minute. I didn’t feel like I had resolved anything related to infertility.
Our childlessness was resolved through adoption. We did become parents. To be able to adopt in a healthy way, we needed to mourn that we would never have a genetic child. And, we did. I also had to mourn that I would never carry a child. I feel like I mourned that connection with a child, but maybe didn’t fully mourn the missed experiences. I would never be able to relate to pregnancy complaints, cravings, nesting, labor, birthing, breastfeeding, etc.
My feelings are often discounted. “You didn’t miss anything.” “Pregnancy is horrible.” “You got a child the easy way.”
Nothing about our journey has been easy!
Emotionally. Physically. Financially. It’s been different. But, not “easy.”
In many ways, I’d be ok not experiencing pregnancy. To miss out on those shared experiences, but I have not resolved myself to being the mother to only one child. I want to be the mother to at least 2 children (more, if possible). That’s the pain I carry around.
As we continue to pursue embryo adoption, we hope to have a shorter wait time and less expense to achieving the family we’ve always imagined. Pregnancy is just the cherry on top to growing our family. COVID-19 will more than likely delay our dreams, but they won’t be canceling them.
This week is National Infertility Awareness Week! While I share our story throughout the year, I hope that you’ll learn something new this week, reach out to a friend experiencing infertility, or maybe even share your own story. This journey can be lonely, but it doesn’t have to be.
•7 IUIs •2 fresh IVFs •1 FET •2 donor FETs •3 donor embryos on ice waiting for us
Sometimes our journey seems like nothing but numbers and statistics. Cold and irrelevant, at times. They’re numbers that mean everything and nothing. Our past failure doesn’t necessarily determine our future success. They don’t tell you about the heartache of months and years of wondering if we’d be parents. I can’t even count how many shots, blood draws, or internal ultrasounds I’ve had over the years. Numbers don’t show you how much we love our daughter who came to us through adoption.
As hard as this journey has been, I know that I’m stronger and better for it. You may think that it is easy to say that now that we are (theoretically) on the other side, but I was saying it the midst of all the heartache. Here is an old post, but it’s still a goodie. There can still be beauty in the midst of despair.