No products in the cart.
Infertility, A Mountain I Did Not Want to Move
Infertility, a mountain I did not want to move. I remember at one point a friend so kindly and from the best place in her heart said, “You were given this mountain to show others it can be moved.” It was a quote she had read and it made her think of me.
We had been trying for over a year at that point. Boxes and boxes of ovulation tests. Pregnancy tests. A miscarriage. Lots of IUIs. Ultrasounds. Blood work. An ectopic pregnancy and losing a tube. And now IVF.
It was beyond difficult to wait around anymore for something I knew may never happen. But it was even harder to give up when I knew it was everything I had ever wanted.
It was frustrating to watch everyone else’s dreams come true around me while watching mine slip away with every stick that didn’t have those two pink lines. Yet the joy in being around all the babies our friends and family were having trumped the frustration.
IVF. And the land of unexplained infertility. It became the only lonely place I lived in for a while. It consumed and literally invaded every part of me. From physical to mental, it invaded my relationship with my husband, made me distant from my parents and friends and affected my work. My relationship with my body, my husband’s body and our bodies together, changed. The protocols and the schedules. A lot of time and even more waiting. It was mechanical. It was a full time job on top of a full time job. A battle we were fighting privately.
And yet I hoped. Against all the odds and against all the logic, I still held onto it. Even through tears, feeling more and more powerless. I stayed “cautiously optimistic”.
I didn’t want to move this mountain. I didn’t want to be a part of this ‘club’. Yet, there I was. It was always more than just not being able to create a family. It was about feeling like a failure about my body not being able to do something that it was designed to do without a lot of unnatural help. It was wanting to be able to do it myself.
After the decision to lean into the help, it was about the fact that it still wasn’t happening. It was about not only not being able to move the mountain but about falling down the side of it over and over again. Feeling less and less adequate and more and more insecure after each rough tumble.
My husband reminded me what I already knew…with a baby or without, I mattered. That the life we had independently and together mattered even if it ended up that we had not produced a child. We pinky promised it wouldn’t change anything.
I wrote in my journal, “Remember, you are NOT just your journey. It’s a part of you, it will shape you, it will mold you…but it will never define you.”
To all of you in this ‘Fertility Challenged Club’, you are not alone. Even if you think no one understands, there are so so many who do (like me). There is literally a village of women who get this struggle and what this type of yearning feels like. What it can do to you in every way and every part of your life.
I hope in sharing my story that even just one of you feels less alone in your struggles.
If you haven’t experienced it, know that someone around you has or is. Lead with compassion. Lead with empathy. I will never know why I was chosen to be in this club, but I know it molded and shaped me into the person I am today. One who will always strive to lead with compassion and an empathetic heart. I pray for all my fellow infertility warriors to continue to build a life that they never dreamt of before. With peace. With abundant love, always. I’m here for you.
Written by Executive Editor, Shraddha Patel.