Here’s a question someone asked me recently:
“How can you say you’re struggling with infertility when you have a son?”
Infertility is defined as the (even if temporary) inability to conceive a child. My body loves to be pregnant, carry and birth babies. It has a really difficult time, however, to get to that part. I have a condition called PCOS. Many women have it; many more don’t know they have it. Basically it wonks out your hormones and can cause some serious problems. (If you want medical specifics, here’s the link to the Mayo Clinic’s definition.)
When I was first diagnosed, I took it really well, then not so well, and now I’m okay with it. I was diagnosed and it was like this light shined down, connecting all of the pieces. The weight gain, the irregular cycles, the miscarriages, the infertility, it was all because of this disease. I had something to “blame” it all on. My doctor gave me great advice of losing 10% of my body weight being a great start, and should kick-start my hormones.
I worked hard, and in 2.5 months, I was down 10%. I felt great and I waited. And I waited. And I waited. And nothing happened.
I was confused and hurt and lost. I did what I was supposed to, and I didn’t get what I wanted. I spiraled out of control. I ate everything in sight, I gained all the weight back and then some, and became very desperate and depressed. I was tired of trying, and working on this. I so desperately wanted something in this journey to be easy, and I was just done. So after (many) long discussions with my husband, I got to a whole new realization.
I have no control of the situation. Now for a total control-freak like me (it’s really bad), that’s a monumental realization. I had no control when I lost my babies. There was no trick combination when I got pregnant with my son. There’s not some secret to getting pregnant again. I have absolutely no control.
As hard as it is for me to give up control, it’s been the most freeing part. I’m going to the gym for me, so I can be healthy. I’ll let myself have a glass of wine (or two) at a party. I’ve stopped counting days in my cycle, and doubting every pregnancy test. I’ve stopped wondering if and maybe, because the only thing I can control is my response, my attitude, my thoughts.
I still want another child more than anything (a little girl in particular), and pray for it every day. But the yearning isn’t painful. It’s more hopeful. I try to keep in mind, my body did it once, it can do it again. But if it can’t that’s okay. If Sean is it, that’s more than okay.
Some days are hard. Some days are really difficult. Some days I get obsessive about it again. This is by far, not a perfect journey. But I persevere. I push through. I’ll end up with the family I’m supposed to have. In the meantime, I just need to enjoy the ride.