On #2

Posted on | July 21, 2013 | 2 Comments

It seems as if the question of the summer has been, "so when is baby #2 coming?"  Our good friends that had a baby the same week Hazel was born just had their 2nd last week, while other friends are planning more kids soon as well.

There's days where it seems like a good idea.  I loved every second of being pregnant.  I embraced everything, even the weight gain and round ligament pain.  It was a miracle, truly.  I also loved birth and look forward to experiencing that again.  I also feel as if having a sibling for Hazel is very important, and I know she'll be an amazing big sister.

Then there's days where it seems crazy.  I love giving my full attention to H, being able to pack up & go, to still take adventures just as a family of three.  I've finally got my old body back (sort of, haha), not to mention libido.  And sleep - oh dear sleep - I'm finally getting to know her again. Then there's the whole idea of convincing B...

Regardless of what we want, I keep forgetting that I don't have a say in this.

Infertility does.

I used to follow a blog of a infertile woman who underwent IVF twice and finally conceived, giving birth to a beautiful boy.  About a year later she wrote that she still considered herself an infertile.  I remember feeling angry at that - like it's some club only those of us currently in it can understand - and how dare a woman who has experienced pregnancy call herself infertile!

But I get it now.

The occasional annoyance I feel at women complaining about pregnancy or when they express silly vain fears of becoming pregnant is creeping up.  I think, please people - enjoy that fact your body can get pregnant - there are SO many lovely amazing families out there that would give anything for that chance.  Two of my friends underwent IVF in the last year, both of which failed.  My heart breaks every time I see them, I cannot imagine being in that place, in their shoes.  It's too heartbreaking to even think of.

Then there's the occasional jealously I feel at pregnancy announcements (something that used to bring me to tears circa 2009-2011).  There's a lot more joy I feel for them, too, now that I've experienced it.  But still, in the back of my mind I think 'my body can't do that.'  It's this failure you can never really get over.

My body did end up succeeding, but with a lot of help.  Once my body actually became pregnant, it loved pregnancy!  It's odd for me to think Hazel wouldn't be here if it wasn't for modern medicine (especially considering my non western medicine approach to many things in our lives).  Not a day goes by that I don't feel unmeassurable gratitude for those who helped us succeed in our dream of becoming parents.  Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.

But still, there's that looming not so good friend of mine called infertility.   I didn't miss her.  I tried not to think about her.  But she's back, albeit just a whisper at this point.  Perhaps we will be the supposedly common story of infertiles turned fertile, but I'm not holding my breath.  I just don't think she'll win when we finally decide to fight her again.

...

I hope to not offend anyone out there, whether or not your infertile or the cough-and-get-pregnant type.  If you're experiencing infertility please reach out - to me, to local support groups, to friends, family.  It is a silent disease, so many feel they have to stay hush hush about but staying silent only hurts more.  If you're the opposite of infertile - I don't want to imply that you take pregnancy for granted - I'm only suggesting to those of you who do tend to complain and/or dislike pregnancy that you try and simply appreciate the miracle your body has made, and be sensitive to those who may be silently hurting.  The one thing some complain about is what another couple would give anything for.

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