The bittersweet taste of being an infertile mother

These questions were posted on the PAIL blogroll. I didn't realize I was going to have so much to say, but when i finally stopped typing - I realized I had an emotional exhale. So I decided to post it here too.


What does the “after” feel like to you? Is it bittersweet, or are you at peace?

It’s extremely bittersweet for me. I mean I’m happy that I’m a mother, but I still have this nagging sense that I’m less than a whole woman. When I was trying – all I thought was – I want to be a mother, who cares how I get there? But once I crossed the line, I was happy I got there, but I felt like I’d been cheated of some of my motherhood experiences. I still can’t conceive on my own. I’m still traumatized from the physical torture it was to get to this point. I can still taste the constant anxiety and fear as I went through my high risk pregnancy. I remember my guilt for feeling disconnected from my pregnancy until I was literally at the end of the 3rd trimester. I couldn’t allow myself to enjoy nesting because I’d already lost a baby at 20 weeks once before. I’m not an unhappy person – but I don’t think I’d go so far as to say I’m at peace….


Do you still experience negative emotions surrounding your ALI journey? Did you expect this?

I definitely still have those negative emotions. They are strongest when I think of gearing up to try and have a second child. I do have some internal resentment because I know I’ll never have a normal road to motherhood. I don’t think I expected to feel this way. I thought that when I laid eyes on my daughter – all the negative feelings would just disappear.


You know – I’ve heard people tell me, “you should be happy that you have a child – if I had one – I’d never complain. I’d never be negative because I’d be so grateful for what I had.” I think that’s far easier said than done. The TTC battle does some serious emotional damage, and the addition of a child doesn’t negate that. If anything it makes it harder to accept, because you feel like you shouldn’t feel bad, so it’s harder to work through those emotions.


Williams discusses feeling like a veteran versus a survivor. What is your take on this, as it relates to the ALI journey? Do you think of yourself in some other way?

I definitely see myself as a veteran – or in my eyes – a warrior because the fight just isn’t over yet. To me – being a survivor would mean getting my body to the point of being fully fertile on its own. But the reality is that I’m always going to have to fight to try and get / keep my reproductive system in order – so unless some miracle happens – I’ll never really be a survivor – because the fight will never be over. I think when we’re still TTC – we feel like finally having a kid will make all of this over. I also shared that sentiment until I had a child – and I realized that the pains of infertility, miscarriage, and the TTC process have left scars that will be there with me forever.


How can we help each other get “there”? What will healing look like?

I think vocalizing how we feel helps a lot. It sort of makes this thing we’re going through a part of life instead of a dirty little secret we’re holding deep inside. When I lost my first baby, just hearing the number of women who also went through the same thing made it easier to deal with. When I got diagnosed with PCOS, just hearing the stories of women with PCOS helped. When I went through my pregnancy with an incompetent cervix, just talking to women who dealt with it to just helped. The healing for me is realizing I’m one of many women who have dealt with this – and come out ok on the other side.

Viability - I officially have a viable half-baked baby!

Yes - I've crossed the threshold. I've crossed that invisible line in the sand. In fact I should say "we" crossed that invisible line in the sand. Not just the baby and I , but the baby, my dear husband and I have crossed this line. It's been so long, since the first IVF cycle....since the first time I took clomid 4 years ago... since I realized my ovaries had a mind of their own and weren't with the program. We've crossed that line in the sand that basically gives our baby a chance. 

It's so weird.... the crossing was uneventful. Maybe that's why I couldn't sleep tonight.... I was waiting to watch it become real. It's like crossing this line has opened a whole new set of doors for me. I can start crib shopping. I can start nursery shopping. I can start the nesting process! I can give this baby a name. I can risk getting attached to this little one.

It's been a serious emotional challenge balancing the desire to revel in hope for what's coming while keeping a keen eye on the realities of being a high-risk pregnancy with such a colorful medical history. If you tell people that you're keenly aware of what could go wrong - they say you're negative. If you let yourself daydream in what's coming, you feel like you're somehow letting go of reality. Where's the balance?

If I get my way - I'll bake this baby until 40 weeks. I'm going to be on bedrest for at least 12 more weeks. That's when the cerclage comes out. However, I will be only 36 weeks and I'm going to try to continue bedrest until the end. I want to give this little one every chance I can to be as healthy as possible. I'm just so grateful to have come this far - and I can't wait to see how far we can take it.