Reflections on NIAW

Today marks the last day of National Infertility Awareness Week 2011.  To recap our history, my husband and I tried to conceive for over 3 years before a door opened for us and we were able to undergo one IVF cycle.  We gambled and won the jackpot by being blessed with the family we always wanted (2 children) that for too long we questioned would ever happen.  While I do not consider myself "infertile" any longer, infertility will always be a part of who I am.  It has shaped and molded my life into something that would not have existed without its influence.

Infertility robbed me of 3 years of happiness at the beginning of my marriage.  Infertility ate away at relationships with family members and others that I cared about. Infertility made it difficult for me to form relationships at my workplace and do my job at my fullest potential.  Infertility shook my body to its very core and shattered my emotional well being.   Infertility made me question the worth of my life.

Going through the pain of infertility is something that no one can comprehend unless they've lived it.  It is devastating on so many levels- how it affects your thoughts and dreams, how it affects every relationship you have: whether with your spouse, parents, siblings, other relatives, friends, co-workers and every other acquaintance from your neighbor to your church family.  It's a medical condition that is not often validated by the general population which just spirals the devastating effects of its vicious ways.

In short, infertility sucks and no one gets it unless you've walked in the same shoes.

Words cannot explain how elated I feel that I was able to replace that pair of worn-out shoes.  How happy I feel that so many people who walked the path with me have been able to do the same.  But also how much my heart hurts that some are still walking and waiting for their some day, some way.  Although my infertile shoes are gone, my feet remember how they felt- every lead filled step. 

Infertility took away so much from me... but it also gave me so much.

Infertility gave me two children that would not have existed in the same way without its influence.  Without it there would be no Sam and Anna- no twin giggles, twin triumphs and twin challenges.  No unique opportunity to see two personalities develop at the exact same time but so very differently.  Infertility made me a better wife and a better mother.  It gave me the ability to let go.  Obsess less.  Enjoy the present for what it is.  The ability to really cherish every single moment of parenthood.  To be wiser about the less important stuff.  Infertility made me stronger and through that strength gave me a better emotional state.  Infertility strengthened my religious faith. 

Infertility, despite the years of hell I felt like I lived through, gave me so much more that it took away.  My wish is that the same is true for everyone who has walked in the same shoes too.

NIAW

It has not been lost on me that this week is National Infertility Awareness Week. For days I have been gathering my thoughts, wondering what a woman on the other side, but who still feels very much infertile, says about this week. I got my miracles- I got my two babies, which was what we always wanted pre-IF, but deep down it still hurts to know that I don't have the possibility to easily have more, like 7 out of 8 couples (since 1 in 8 experience infertility). The two babies I get to hold every day does not erase the long, arduous and uncertain path we traveled to get them. It makes it totally worth every heartache, tear, shot, and moment of despair- but it does not make all the past pain disappear.

Murgdan posted a link to Tears and Hope on her blog this week. I hadn't viewed it since our IVF cycle started. I bawled like never before while watching it this time... because I was holding a sleeping baby in my arms while seeing the words scroll across the screen. I could see my other sleeping baby just beyond the computer. I am at a loss for words to describe how it felt to watch it and feel those old emotions so freshly, knowing now what I did not the last time- that I would resolve our infertility, and that a year later, our family would be complete. Thank you Murgdan, for reminding me about it, and giving me the opportunity to view it from the other side. I hope someday everyone gets that chance.

Please be an advocate for infertility awareness. An advocate for education. An advocate for insurance coverage. An advocate for understanding and compassion for people dealing with infertility.

The Day Which Shall Not Be Named and NIAW

So I'm a little ahead of things. That's how I roll. (See beginning of last post: I already told you I was a planner- you were forewarned) TV and the card aisle at your favorite store are already full steam ahead in celebrating M-day (The Day Which Shall Not Be Named)- so why can't I be early with NIAW too?

In case you didn't know, NIAW starts April 25th and goes through May 2nd. To celebrate, today, I started an argument I know I have no shot in hell at winning with our insurance reps. It went something like this via email: "Causes no harm, my ass." and "Tell me what physical harm is being treated with V*agra then." and "the CDC considers it a medical condition, why don't you?" Maybe I can get Jake to bake a NIAW cake- or even give me a gift! Hey, why not??? So what are you planning to do for NIAW week?

Now back to That Day in May. I am already dreading it, like any IFer does. For me, it starts well before the cards come out or the ads begin. For me, it starts when I begin planning my lessons. Hmmm... what should we make for That Day's gifts in kindergarten? What should I teach that week about that topic? Twist that knife a little more. I have cute songs we sing, books we read... and we even recognize That Day at our grade-wide concert that always falls on that Friday. Torture, really. But I can gleefully say, it won't be quite so bad this year! Because I have a student teacher! She will be reading the books, singing the songs, and making the cards and gifts. And me, I'll be in my happy place- or locked in the back store room where I can't hear their darn singing. Then the weekend around That Day... I will be at a spa, with my now-I-know-who-my-real-friends-are friend- who needs a little spa happy place time too. I think I will start a yearly tradition, baby or not.