April 24, 2018
A friend posted today about National Infertility Awareness Week and I was embarrassed to admit, I'd completely forgotten it was this week. I was glad for the reminder. I never want to forget or let other people forget that part of myself. It's shaped me into who I am and has blessed me beyond measure with my son. I also want people to know it's not abnormal. It should be isolating or embarrassing. One in eight people suffer from infertility and it's still taboo. It is personal on so many levels. It's a person's inherent right to reproduce. It's biology. To not be capable..it just plain hurts. It's suffering. It's loss. It's expensive. It's difficult on a marriage. It's getting your hopes up time and time again to have them dashed. It's suffering. It's pain. It's crying. It's confusion. It's anger. It's all those things wrapped into one.
I remember the day I was told I had premature ovarian failure and it was denial. The doctor must be wrong. I asked what they'd do about it. I mean...it was medicine. There was always an answer, right? Always a treatment. Always a next step. But no, nothing. Not a thing. Nothing. I remember hanging up and sobbing. How could this be?
You only need to look back at my blog entries to relive my journey. What I want to talk about today is my silver lining, because four years ago, I would never have believed there was one.
I'm glad for my infertility. There, I said it. Do I still catch myself thinking "if only it was that easy" to get pregnant? Sure. If only it wasn't so expensive? Sure. If only it didn't require, needles and pain and contracts and heartbreak? Sure. BUT, it was MY journey to get MY son.
In the support groups and the first thing everyone asks me who is toying with the idea of embryo donation asks me is "do you love him the same?" Or, "Did you ever worry if you'd love him like your own?" I think it's a legitimate question. It's a real question. I had the same one.
Yes! Oh my goodness yes. I wish I could shout from the rooftops and take over the internet to say, yes yes yes! You will LOVE this baby. This baby IS yours. He or she IS your own. DNA makeup means nothing in the scheme of love. I grew up with step parents and siblings - they aren't my blood, but they ARE my family. My son is not my DNA, but I will tell you this with all the mama bear certainty there is in the world, he IS my son. There is not a fiber of my being that can deny that. I'm a firm believer in God, and our God is an awesome God. I know that S was part of our family from the beginning and it was God's hand that placed him here. I cannot fathom a life without him in it. Our family wouldn't be the same. He is ours and we are his.
I want to reassure any of you out there contemplating any type of adoption or donor assisted birth, it will not matter. It won't. At all. I'm a rarity that I have a biological son and an embryo donated son. The love I have for both is the same. That protectiveness? The same. The I would lay down my life for them in a second? The same. I grew them in me. I birthed them. I nursed them. I've stayed up all night when they are sick, cried with them, laughed with them, been covered in their puke, pee, poop and snot and worried relentlessly over them.
I thank God everyday for the path that was laid for me. I don't begrudge God for it. I don't get mad over it. I don't wish it differently. I can't. To wish away my struggle would be to wish away my son.
For all of you women and men out there in the thick of it, my heart is with you. It hurts. I pray you find an answer to grow your family and extend to anyone wanting to know more about embryo donation that my door is always open. Love and peace your way.
#IAm1in8
A friend posted today about National Infertility Awareness Week and I was embarrassed to admit, I'd completely forgotten it was this week. I was glad for the reminder. I never want to forget or let other people forget that part of myself. It's shaped me into who I am and has blessed me beyond measure with my son. I also want people to know it's not abnormal. It should be isolating or embarrassing. One in eight people suffer from infertility and it's still taboo. It is personal on so many levels. It's a person's inherent right to reproduce. It's biology. To not be capable..it just plain hurts. It's suffering. It's loss. It's expensive. It's difficult on a marriage. It's getting your hopes up time and time again to have them dashed. It's suffering. It's pain. It's crying. It's confusion. It's anger. It's all those things wrapped into one.
I remember the day I was told I had premature ovarian failure and it was denial. The doctor must be wrong. I asked what they'd do about it. I mean...it was medicine. There was always an answer, right? Always a treatment. Always a next step. But no, nothing. Not a thing. Nothing. I remember hanging up and sobbing. How could this be?
You only need to look back at my blog entries to relive my journey. What I want to talk about today is my silver lining, because four years ago, I would never have believed there was one.
I'm glad for my infertility. There, I said it. Do I still catch myself thinking "if only it was that easy" to get pregnant? Sure. If only it wasn't so expensive? Sure. If only it didn't require, needles and pain and contracts and heartbreak? Sure. BUT, it was MY journey to get MY son.
In the support groups and the first thing everyone asks me who is toying with the idea of embryo donation asks me is "do you love him the same?" Or, "Did you ever worry if you'd love him like your own?" I think it's a legitimate question. It's a real question. I had the same one.
Yes! Oh my goodness yes. I wish I could shout from the rooftops and take over the internet to say, yes yes yes! You will LOVE this baby. This baby IS yours. He or she IS your own. DNA makeup means nothing in the scheme of love. I grew up with step parents and siblings - they aren't my blood, but they ARE my family. My son is not my DNA, but I will tell you this with all the mama bear certainty there is in the world, he IS my son. There is not a fiber of my being that can deny that. I'm a firm believer in God, and our God is an awesome God. I know that S was part of our family from the beginning and it was God's hand that placed him here. I cannot fathom a life without him in it. Our family wouldn't be the same. He is ours and we are his.
I want to reassure any of you out there contemplating any type of adoption or donor assisted birth, it will not matter. It won't. At all. I'm a rarity that I have a biological son and an embryo donated son. The love I have for both is the same. That protectiveness? The same. The I would lay down my life for them in a second? The same. I grew them in me. I birthed them. I nursed them. I've stayed up all night when they are sick, cried with them, laughed with them, been covered in their puke, pee, poop and snot and worried relentlessly over them.
I thank God everyday for the path that was laid for me. I don't begrudge God for it. I don't get mad over it. I don't wish it differently. I can't. To wish away my struggle would be to wish away my son.
For all of you women and men out there in the thick of it, my heart is with you. It hurts. I pray you find an answer to grow your family and extend to anyone wanting to know more about embryo donation that my door is always open. Love and peace your way.
#IAm1in8
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