processing

It's been about a week since our last meeting regarding IVF things. Most of the info has sunk in, and I've been able to process some of it into rational thoughts and not only emotion. This is good because tonight we have another meeting. This one is just about how to take all my different drugs, though, so it shouldn't be overwhelming in the same way. I don't think this meeting will require any more decisions to be made by me. 

Even though I feel like I've come a long way from the shock of deciding to do IVF, there's still a lot of emotion wrapped up in this huge life experience. Occasionally, I can throw out the term IVF casually, in conversation. Other times, just writing those three letters to someone can bring tears to my eyes. Why? People get children in many different ways. This isn't even one of the harder infertility journeys many women are on. I'm young, healthy, my uterus looks good, my follicles look good, hopefully we're going to be successful early on in this process. And yet.... it's hard. 

Women have babies. Women who don't want babies, have babies. Some women never try, some try hard and never reach their goal, many end up somewhere in the middle. I am a mother and so blessed to be. I've always wanted children, several, a big, crazy, fun, chaotic (at times) family. So here we are, hoping and trying so much to make that happen. The whole process makes me feel sad because my body isn't doing what it's supposed to, questioning of my path in life and why I haven't been given another soul to look after yet, scared because, even with all this, we could still fail. 

I have recently been told by two people in my life that they are pregnant, one a close friend and another who has had infertility issues in the past. There are two main emotions within me: happiness, first and then, jealousy. I want people who want children to have them easily. I do not wish infertility on these people at all, so my other option is to wish them easy conceptions. And, at the same time, it makes me feel left out, alone. This isn't to say I don't want to know about these joyous things in peoples' lives; they are joyous, momentous events and truly, I am happy for these women. I also don't want others to feel awkward around me if they are pregnant (although this last part might be difficult). 

The thing is, we all get to this part of our lives in different ways: with no problems, with a previous miscarriage, through infertility treatments. And we all should feel so blessed to have pregnancy be a part of our lives. When I get pregnant again, I will be overjoyed. I will also become that person I see at the museum or zoo or grocery store who has a telling belly bump, someone I know nothing about and yet, am jealous of because I assume her path has been easier than mine. I will be aware that I am the reminder to someone, somewhere, of her issues and struggles. I will have a right to my joy just as she will have a right to her sadness. I will feel compassion for her even though she may not know it. The journey to motherhood is like no other in this life, and we each have a story to tell.