From The Beginning

I never wanted a baby until I wanted a baby. And then? 
It was all I wanted.

My tunnel vision became narrower and narrower, especially since the light at the end of the tunnel became more and more constricted, until the light was the tiniest of pinholes. Barely the diameter of an insignificant star in a busy night sky. 

Building families is now what I've been doing for 30 years. Nope, I'm not a doctor. Or a nurse. Or an embryologist. 

I am a patient advocate and to be perfectly transparent, I'm an activist. 

Helping people build their families when the light at the end of their tunnel becomes dim brings out the warrior in me. 

Wanting a family is a fundamental urge. Doesn't mean that everyone has it. In fact, neither of my beloved sisters have children. One sister, Shari, couldn't- but not because of infertility. Shari, my elder sister, had Neurofibromatosis (NF1). We were blessed to have her for 54 years. Those who didn't know her well might have seen a disabled life. A diminished life. A less than life. Those of us who knew her understand quite well that the warrior gene is deep in my DNA. Shari took every opportunity to enjoy her life and when she needed to adapt to continue the experience of pleasure in her life, she did so. She did not bemoan what she could not do, she treasured what she could. 

My younger sister, Laura, affectionately called Orly, LaLa, Laurabell, LouLou & Louliebell is also called aunt, sister, wife, friend, confidant, teacher, partner in crime. She & her husband chose not to have children, (apology to Milo, their beloved dog who's pretty sure that he's their baby) and are a perfect example of childfree living. Perfect, in that they embraced their choice. Does she have bittersweet moments of regret? I don't know- I'll ask her and let you know. Orly is a warrior in her own right and is both a pillar of her many communities and the sassiest of sassy when the circumstances warrant it. 

My family, along with my friends, were my pillars during my six & a half years. Of course my family started with my husband. When we talk about building our families, but we're married, what does that mean? That we don't feel like a family until we've had a child? That until then we're a couple but not a family. Well, for sure, if he hadn't already proven himself to be family BEFORE infertility, he sure as heck did DURING infertility. 

Six and a half years. My husband, Bill, once asked me why I still "tacked" on the half year. 

Anyone reading this with infertility & fertility struggles knows the reason. 

Those six months represented six menstrual cycles that made me cry, two pregnancy announcements that weren't mine, one anniversary of a miscarriage. 

Yeah, I still mention that six months. 

My mama was practically perfect during my struggle ttc. This was a long time ago. Way before you could google anything at all. Much less find a blog on how to manage your adult daughters wildly swinging emotions from fertility medications. She asked questions, but not too many. She left me alone, but not too long. She was supportive but rarely showed her own interests in a grandchild. 

My father was a doctor. DOCTOR. I'm smiling as I write this because from him,  I got my healthy skepticism for unsubstantiated statements. When I took a fertility medication and had side effects, my dad checked the pamphlet that comes inserted in the medication bag. 

The reaction that I was having wasn't listed, so according to my dad, it wasn't due to the medication. 

Unfortunately, he died before I could show him, three years later and STILL ttc, that my reaction was now listed as a side effect. 

Ultimately, everything I've ever needed to know, I've learned from infertility.

Healthy humility.

Gratitude.

Adaptability.

Perseverance. 

Compassion. 

And joy.