Friday, February 17, 2006

The I word...

So for the longest time, even when it became completely clear I'd need some help conceiving, I would not use the word "infertile". Or infertility... or any other version of the word.

I just hated the way it sounded and the stigma that it brought. By admitting I was infertile, I was lumping myself in a club to which I just DIDN'T want to belong. It seemed so final. And scary. I mean, would I be trying to two years? Three? To what lengths would I have to go in order to have a baby? Injectables? IVF?

It was all so overwhelming.

Yesterday was my first visit to the doctor. I know... after nine months and 3 cycles, you'd think I would have gone sooner. But no. I was in complete denial. I faithfully took my temperature and studied the chart daily. I willed there to be a pattern. There wasn't. I finally realized -- I'm not going to miraculously healed. It was tough to deal with.

I'm not sure if others feel the same way. Maybe its just that I don't like labels. They tend to stick with you forever. You know... like "Yeah, that lady with the six kids... she was infertile". Yuck. I just don't want that to be me. But I'm trying to embrace it. If my experiences can help someone else. I guess its worth it.

And like my friend said to me the other day.

Her: "You know what's the cure for infertility?"

Me: "Pregnancy?"

Her: "Exactly!"


At 3:44 PM, Anonymous karen said...

you have a wonderfully open and honest way of telling your story. i already know that i will enjoy following your adventure and can't wait to read more!

lots of love,


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