I wish

It is funny how the craziest things in life can make you jealous. I recently found out about a friend of a friend who is expecting with one of those 'surprise pregnancies'. She has a few older children and definitely wasn't planning this pregnancy. I cannot even begin to imagine how great a surprise pregnancy would be.

I am not jealous to the extent that I cannot be happy for that person or for anyone else in a similar situation. Maybe jealous is not the right word. It could be envy or desire. I do know that I wish that those who have never experienced infertility or loss could better understand what some people have to go through. My life would have been easier in many aspects if I had not had to deal with infertility and loss, but looking back I wouldn't change who I am or any of my experiences.

It would be great if some of the 'fertile myrtles' would realize what a blessing it is to be pregnant without even trying. If those that have been blessed with fertility could somehow understand that comments about how much they hate being pregnant and how much they don't think they can handle one more baby can hurt so many people. There are so many women that would give up everything for morning sickness and sore backs. They would gladly welcome labor pains and a baby with colic. They dream about feedings at 2:00 am and cannot wait to smell poopy diapers.

I know because I was once one of those women. And then at the same time I don't know because I now have three beautiful boys. But I will never and do not ever want to forget. I am part of a special and wonderful group of women. And I am proud of it. There is something about infertility and loss that bonds women together. A sisterhood is formed that unties women from all walks of life. No matter how different we look or what languages we speak, we are all the same. We understand even when no words are spoken. We experience things together - it is like a never ending chain that links us all together. When something happens along one link of the chain, we are all, in some way, affected.

I often cry tears of sadness and joy. Some of which are for women that I know. Some of which are for women that I have never met in person. Some of which are for women that I don't know at all. I check different blogs and my e-mail a few times a day when I know someone is taking a pregnancy test, or getting an ultra sound or other infertility test. This is because I know at any given time that there are women of the world experiencing the effects of infertility - some ecstatic and some devastating, but all life changing.

I cannot even begin to imagine what life without infertility would be like. No stress. No doctor’s appointments ten times a month. No one and half inch needles. No two week wait. No sore injection sites. No obsessing about every little twinge or cramp. No symptoms to second guess yourself about. No money spent. No disappointments. No fear. No HSG (dye test). No pills. No transvaginal ultrasounds on day 3 of your cycle. No injection bruises on your belly, bottom, and thighs. No worrying about estrogen, progesterone, LH, and FSH levels. No counting of follicles. No scrutinizing uterine lining measurements and looking for the triple-line phase. No retrieval surgery. No laparoscopic surgery. No hysterosalpingogram. No scars from blood draws every few days. No waiting for doctors and nurses to call with results. No wondering if any of your eggs will fertilize correctly. No Lupron. No genetic testing. No counseling. No miscarriages. No PIO shots. No wondering. No Hoping. No tears. No disappointments. No screaming.

To wake up one day and feel a little different. To casually glance at a calendar with a puzzled look. To not remember what day your period was due. To figure out what day your period was due, and then realize that you are four days late. To think that you should probably buy a pregnancy test one day soon. To wonder how you could have forgotten your period was late. I can only dream...

At the same time, I cannot imagine my life without infertility and loss. I have such a love for my kids and will never take them for granted. (This does not, by any means, mean that they don't drive me crazy sometimes. They are kids after all.) I spend as much time as I can with them. I sometimes walk the line between being protective and being crazy. They are an extension of me - my heart is running around in three little bodies. Out there. Exposed. Vulnerable.

Sometimes I just stare at them. I have to be careful though, because if I stare too long I start to cry. I cry tears of happiness for how much I love them. I cry tears for the journey it took to get them here. I cry tears for the ones that I lost. This is why I like to watch them sleep; then the tears can stream down my face and I don't have to explain myself to anyone. I can just love them and let my heart spill over. I cannot believe they are mine. I cannot believe that I have one child, let alone three. There was a time when I had almost convinced myself that I would have none.

Before I had kids, pregnant bellies would make me smile through my tears. Now I smile and remember my own belly. The same emotions happened when I saw babies. Even now, I find myself staring at pregnant women and babies. I wonder about their stories. I still do get pangs of jealousy when I see twins. I have accepted the loss of Justin’s twin, but like all of the other miscarriages, I will always wonder what might have been. I am pretty sure that I am not alone in feeling this way.

Infertility did and still does reach to the core of who I am as a woman and has tested me in ways that I never knew were possible. I did survive and came out of the battle with three wonderful boys. I know that not all women are as fortunate. And that fact breaks my heart. So, on top of some jealousy, I also feel some guilt. Why was I one of the lucky ones? There are so many questions that I will never have answers to. To all those still battling infertility - I am thinking of you. I promise to never forget. I wish I could hug all of you, because some things just cannot be expressed in words.

I have to end with a disclaimer of sorts. These are my opinions and my feelings. I am not trying to speak for all of those who have experienced infertility and/or loss - and I do not try to completely understand what each individual has or is going through. I also don't mean to imply that those without infertility problems do not cherish their kids or appreciate their pregnancies. I know that some do. It is not my intention to upset or hurt anyone. I just wish that more people were compassionate about this issue, and that they thought before they spoke. I wish that more people realized how hard it can be for some people to get and then stay pregnant.