I never ever thought that I’d be ending 2020 without celebrating a pregnancy.
Heck, we started planning for our second baby via IVF in October, 2019.
Then, COVID delayed us several months.
We FINALLY transferred a perfect embryo in September. Two weeks later, I miscarried our baby boy.
We started another cycle. A uterine biopsy diagnosed Chronic Endometritis, and cancelled that cycle. The antibiotic treatment regiment did not work. Another cycle was cancelled.
This week, I’m going in for a hysteroscopy with the hopes that my doctor will be able to excise the inflamed tissue in my uterus, and after recovery, a clean biopsy will allow us to move forward with another embryo transfer in late January. Just like everything else in IVF, this is completely without guarantee.
My heart is breaking every time I think about my empty uterus.
My heart is breaking every time I think about everyone else who feels this way. Every mom and dad to hopefully be, who feels the sting of the ornaments missing from their holiday tree or the empty pauses in their menorah lighting zoom calls - thinking about the baby they thought they’d be sharing about, or the one that should still be growing, or the one that would’ve arrived before this season began.
I think Infertility can often feel like a complete and utter stand-still.
Infertility takes away a lot of the control, the planning, the timelines that we dream about. It leaves us feeling overwhelmed, asking questions that have no easy answers, wondering if we have the strength to keep going when all we want to do is quit. Infertility makes me feel like the world is passing me by. That all of the things I wanted are just beyond my reach, all while I watch others seemingly celebrate every milestone I’m still waiting for.
This season, I urge you to acknowledge your feelings about Infertility.
It’s okay to be sad, or frustrated, angry or bitter, it’s okay to be pissed off or jealous or any other feeling you’re experiencing. Please, please don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I think it’s important to note that even amongst Infertility Warriors, no two stories are the same. No two sets of feelings are the same. No two ways of processing things are the same. So, make space for what you’re feeling. Write about it. Talk about it with your partner, or your parents, or your friend, or your therapist (or all of the above). Know that your feelings are justified. That infertility isn’t fair. And, know that you’re not alone.
Think about reaching out to me. Scheduling a free consult so I can learn more about your journey and how I can help. Or purchasing the infertility roadmap + a coaching session for guidance on filling it out. Develop a plan. Let’s walk into 2021 owning our stories - even if they’re not the ones we thought we’d tell.
I’m thinking of you.