Just a Regular Pregnant Person

When I used to ponder whether I'd ever get pregnant, I worried about the uncertainty that came with it-the lack of assurance of staying pregnant and having a baby. I'd talk to friends who had children about moving from the uncertainty of infertility to the uncertainty of pregnancy. And they'd say knowingly, "Get ready, because it's going to be that way for the whole nine months." Which caused me to believe that being pregnant would be just as stressful as infertility.

That, I can say with some experience, is bullshit.

Not to say I don't worry during pregnancy. Not to say that I don't have trouble sleeping the night before an ultrasound, before I'm going to make sure my babies (yes, babies! Two!) are still growing the way they're supposed to. But the fear of holding on to something you already see within your reach, with a steady, steady heartbeat, with hands and arms and legs, is so different than the fear that you'll never get that chance at all. There's a lot of uncertainty in pregnancy, but there's a lot of reason to be hopeful too. Whereas infertility is a time of such immense fragility, where the unknown hits you again and again with such disappointment that you must protect yourself from believing it will ever be different, or risk of coming completely unglued. For me personally--I can't even compare the two.

At first, I tried. A few weeks ago, when I first "graduated" from the infertility clinic, I was complaining to a friend about what little attention I was going to get from my ob. Two ultrasounds! Two, the whole pregnancy! Whereas during IVF, you have them every other day, and that's just to look at your frickin' OVARIES, not babies. (Of course, I paid a pretty penny for those daily glamour shots.) And what she said was, "Yeah. I guess you're just a regular pregnant person now."

In a way, I guess I am. I made it through the first trimester, and I didn't develop a rare complication, and my babies don't look deformed, and they kept growing and their hearts keep beating. It went the way it was SUPPOSED to go, something a person who's experienced infertility can never really believe will happen.

And so now, I feel like I've been blessed with a wonderful gift. And as much as infertility is a challenging, developing, deepening experience, no one can call it a gift.

Which I guess is why I don't think I can blog here anymore. This blog is about making it through infertility, and that's something totally different than making it through pregnancy. I know all my good friends out there who take the time to read this--the same ones who took the time to call me, or cry with me, or hold my hand literally or figuratively through infertility--I know they'll also celebrate this new chapter in my life with me. To them I say, Thank you a million times over. I can't wait for my children to know you. I hope you will teach them like you've taught me.

But I guess I want my last message here to be to those women who are still fighting the fight of ovulation predictor kits, catheters of sperm, counting follicles, shots of progesterone in oil. Or maybe, letting go of this dream, or finding a new path to motherhood. To them I say, Yes. It really is as hard as you think it is right now. It is not illogical, it is not blown out of proportion, it does not continue this way forever. Know that getting to the end of this road doesn't mean you forget your journey through infertility. It will always be a part of you. And I hope your next road leads you somewhere exciting, taking with you the same blessings I feel infertility is given me.