We’re dedicating this entire week of posts to National Infertility Awareness Week, a nationwide campaign intended to educate the public about infertility and the concerns of the infertility community. So, let’s get to it—the latest on FBG Jenn’s journey to becoming a mother.
You know how when you go on a car ride that you think is going to take 30 minutes or so and it ends up taking an hour and you suddenly can’t think of a time when the clock seemed to move more slowly? Well, that’s what my getting-pregnant journey has been like so far. Ten months into trying and a year-plus into being off the pill, to follow the analogy, it’s been a long car ride. But not one I was mentally prepared for. See, I thought it would be a few month process, six months tops. And yet I have friends who have gotten pregnant, given birth and are getting to know their new babies in the same amount of time it’s taken for me to come to grips with the fact (and the medical diagnosis) that my lady bits need extra help.
I thought by this point, I’d be bitter. Like really bitter. And, okay, sometimes I am. But I’ve also slowly started to accept things as they are. And part of that is settling in for the longer-than-anticipated car ride. So much of any journey into the deep and troublesome waters of infertility is based on perception. I think such-and-such should happen by a certain day, and when it doesn’t I’m upset. I pride myself on my health and fitness, and so I think I should be fertile as a mo-fo. I figured Clomid would work right away, but it hasn’t. This all then spirals into anxiety and then worry and then not entirely rational despair that it’ll never happen, and that maybe, somehow I’m not destined to be a mother. However, when I step back and consciously change my mindset to accepting that this process might take some time—that I might be on a cross-country road trip rather than a jaunt across town—well, that helps. And begins to take some of the pressure off.
Yes, my biological clock is ticking, but I don’t need the added stress of my own rigid plans going awry. I’ve discussed my need to give up control before, and I’m not sure it’s something I’ll ever fully “overcome,” but I can learn to live with my reality with grace. It’s not embarrassing or shameful or anything to hide. It is what it is. And it might take awhile to overcome—or at least make peace with.
It may sound like that I’ve lost hope in the whole fertility-treatment process. But I haven’t. I’ve just come to grips with the fact that this is my world and my life. I don’t have control over it, and that’s okay. So in the meantime, I have to do what it takes to maintain a semblance of a normal and non-obsessed life. I have to trust that no matter what happens, I’ll be fine, loved and happy. After all, isn’t that what we’re all really searching for, infertile or not?
So, universe, here I am, buckling up, armed with snacks, good tunes, authenticity and the commitment to laugh and live no matter what the weather or road throws at my husband and me. We and my support system (thank you, you know who you are) are ready and better mentally prepared to go the distance. No matter where that road leads us.
Those who have struggled or are struggling with getting pregnant or infertility, you feel me? At what point did you “settle in for the ride?” —Jenn