I remember the day I got my period; it was on my grandmother’s birthday. I was 12, and I knew what it was and what it meant. From that moment on, the fears of getting pregnant by the thought of a boy crept into my subconscious. With that in mind, I became proactive when it came to preventing unplanned pregnancy. I was on birth control for years. I graduated college, had two careers, and I dated. I met my husband in my mid-30’s and we didn’t get married until I was 40. Then, the gates of my mind opened to the idea of having a child. Being married was vital to me to consider having a child.
My husband and I tried for six months before being referred to a specialist where we started the process of doing IVF. I didn’t say the word infertility for months; I was in denial that it was me. Everything that I had put my mind to do, I was able to do up until that point. But this was the first time I couldn’t will it, study it, or put extra hours in it. It was out of my control.
My first round of IVF failed due to a low number of eggs being retrieved. I held it together until I got in the car with my husband, and for the first time, something truly broke me. I felt broken. I panicked as my husband comforted me. I questioned what I was supposed to do. Who was I supposed to be? These thoughts ran through my mind for the first time. My husband’s words of comfort and determination calmed me down.
In the days since then, I’ve had a few complications. I’m battling endometriosis, an ovarian cyst, and fibroids. I’m due for surgery in April and the only thing I’m holding on to is my faith. It has been my faith that got me up every day to take those multiple shots and then go to the fertility clinic where they drew blood and did ultrasounds. It has been my faith that has held me together and still gives me hope. I will try again after I heal from my surgery, more determined than ever. Giving up isn’t an option. Infertility changed my life by showing me I’m human, and it gave me the courage to do what I never dreamed of.
Cindy S., MD
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