#NIAW

** I always struggle with whether or not to post my soap box infertility stuff but the fact is that it's important to me and you have the ability to scroll on past if you'd like so....here we go :o) **

Did you know that this is National Infertility Awareness Week?  Well, thanks to the uptick in infertility support related posts on my Facebook (which are all tagged as #NIAW) it’s hard for me to avoid.  There have been some great articles posted and personal blogs written by those who have either been through it or are still in it.  When this time comes around it always gets me thinking, last year wasn’t quite as profound.  I was pregnant and felt so incredibly grateful for it, but thought for sure the emotional toll of our infertility would be surely be gone by this year; I’d have my baby, be happy, and have no need to keep my mind in that place.  Unfortunately, the reality is this…I’ve come to realize, this has changed me, and will forever be a part of who I am and how I think about children.

I still find that I get jealous when other’s talk about how easily they were able to get pregnant.  I get angry thinking about how many mom’s in my mommy group have stopped preventing anything and are “seeing what happens”, knowing that Ellis and I don’t have that option.  We don’t get to leave it up to circumstance or say, “if it happens, it happens”.  Nope, our conversations about baby #2 have to involve things like, do we have the money to try again, what if it doesn’t happen a second time, what if the embryos we have don’t thaw properly or implant, do we have the money to go through the entire process again?  No, we have to fully get our mind and emotions wrapped around what we have to go through, knowing that it’s very possible we won’t be successful again.  I spent my pregnancy feeling guilty that it worked so quickly for us when it doesn’t for others.  I found that I always hid my sonogram photos when I left the clinic office because I knew what the women in the waiting room were there for and what seeing me walk out with that meant to them.  It meant that I was just one more person that got to have something they might never experience.  It also changed the way I looked at time.  Every day that passed seemed like an eternity of wasted time.  With every month that came I could tell you exactly when I’d be due if I got pregnant that month, and every month that past felt like one more defeat, beating me further and further down.  Those 2 years were the hardest, I think, I’ve ever had.  It was isolating.  Who do you talk to?  Who can relate?  No one that I knew.  Sure there were people that I could go to and vent but it just wasn’t the same.  The fact is that it became easier to just say that everything was going OK and I was doing fine than to actually be honest and open.  Mostly because people don’t know how to react, and when they do it’s more hurtful than helpful.  Sure they mean well, but the things that are said and meant to be uplifting or supportive are usually the ones that hurt the most.  One of the blogs I found explains this part of it really well….

What IF I admitted that sometimes I’m deathly afraid that this will never happen?
What IF I admitted that I see myself getting older, and losing time EVERY SINGLE TIME I think about this now.
What IF I said that sweet children make me sad and not happy because I just can’t stop feeling sorry for myself?
What IF I answered people honestly when they asked me how I felt every day?
What IF I told the truth when my husband asks “What are you thinking about?”
What IF I said “NO.”, when someone asked me “Are you okay?”
What IF I told people when they were going on and on about nonsense, that I was barely alive, and that if they only knew how much it took for me to BREATHE every day, they wouldn’t want me to waste my breath on trivialities.

All of that said…Ellis and I are one of the lucky couples who have been able to see the other side of this struggle, the happy side.  We’re the ones who are able to look back over all of the hard work, disappointments, tears, anger, etc and say it was worth EVERY.  SINGLE. SECOND.  I look back and know without a single hesitation that I would live it all again to be where we are now.  Occasions like this week, because of all the attention paid to it, give me such mixed emotions.  It stirs the anger and sadness at all of the things this disease has taken from us but it also makes me happy to think of all that it’s given us.  If we had gotten pregnant any other way, at any other time we wouldn’t have gotten our Finley.  I just can’t imagine us without him.  He is so much more than I could have ever hoped for, and he’s much more than I deserve.  This perfect, amazing boy who wakes up with a smile on his face every day, only cries when he’s hurt, hungry, or tired, has the most infectious belly laugh I’ve ever heard, is ticklish in every imaginable spot, dives head first into most anything (literally) and is afraid of very little, loves being outside and chasing the cat around the house, sings us the best songs, gives the warmest hugs and wettest kisses, and who can cheer me up with just one look, was more than worth waiting for.  Most days I sit waiting for someone to come knock on the door and say, “nope, just kidding, he’s not really yours” and take him away.  Fortunately, I know that’s not going to happen but I often sit and wonder what on earth I could have done so right to have been given the chance to know and be responsible for this perfect little person!  

So as negative a rap as something like infertility gets, we’re one of the lucky one’s that get to see the positive.

And how can you not instantly fall in love with this face?!