Note: I know that some people don’t like the term “infertiles.” I’ve gone back and forth about it myself. But I’ve decided that for me it’s just a descriptor, an adjective. Also, I use it for brevity’s sake. It’s just easier to say “infertiles” instead of “people suffering from infertility.” By no means do I mean to offend anyone by using this term. For an excellent article on the debate, check out Creating a Family’s recent post.
I keep the pictures of the embryos from our failed IVF cycle.
My clinic gives us pictures of the embryos right before they’re transferred. We’ve had two fresh cycles and one frozen cycle which produced a total of 6 embryos. We could debate for days about whether those embryos were “babies” or alive, but at the very least, they had potential for life. And so far, they’re the closest thing to baby pictures we might ever have- especially the photo from the cycle where we had a chemical pregnancy. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to throw them away.
Envy is a daily struggle.
Keeping the envy at bay is one of the hardest aspects of infertility. The longer you deal with infertility, the more you find to be envious about:
- I’m envious of people who had kids without infertility treatments.
- I’m envious of people who had treatments but whose insurance paid for it.
- I’m envious of people who had treatments and could easily afford to pay for it themselves.
- I’m envious of people who had IVF work on the first try.
- I’m envious of people who had IVF work on the second try.
- Etc, etc, etc…
It takes a lot of emotional and spiritual work to keep yourself from getting bitter with envy. Some days I’m more successful than others.
I’ve overcompensated for my infertility by spoiling my pet.
I’m aware of it. I admit it. I don’t care.
We got our cat right before we started our first IVF cycle, and that little ball of fur and affection has brought us so much joy. We have more pictures and videos of the cat than we do of each other. The other day I was in the bathroom with the door shut so my husband thought I wouldn’t hear him in the other room whispering to the cat, “You are such a beautiful cat. I love you. Yes, I do.” I laughed and teased my husband about it, but the truth is that I do the same thing.
My infertility radar is always on.
I recently stood in the craft store checkout line behind a set of identical ‘tween girls and their father. He appeared to be in his mid-50s. (They called him “Dad,” so I knew he wasn’t their grandfather or another older relative). I immediately wondered if the girls were IVF babies and how many tries it took. This happens almost every time I see a set of multiples or parents of young children who are closer to their 50s than their 30s.
Can you relate with any of these “infertility confessions?” Do you have any to add? Please share your thoughts in the comments below.
Image via Canva.com
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