Friday, January 2, 2009

Greetings and Salutations!

I've looked around on the internet a little bit for blogs and websites about infertility. There are definitely some good ones out there - one of the ones I've read periodically that's really helped me make sense when I really don't know where I am is the Daily Strength support group. Still, I think there's something missing from the discussion - maybe it's my lack of googling skills, but here's what I haven't found. Websites abound that address the struggles of infertile women (or couples) going through the pain of infertility treatments, and there are a few about the difficulties of adoption; and there are stories of infertile women who've adopted or conceived children. (Those stories are wonderful - of course it's always joyful, if sometimes also painful, when a woman has a baby, but I think those of us who are infertile feel a particular joy when someone has a child who has been down this hard road too.)

Anyway. What I think is missing is a blog that talks about what it means to be infertile. I mean, for many of us, this is a place we are traveling through - so many women pour tens of thousands of dollars and tears and suffering after a baby, that many don't stay in this place forever. And of course many adopt. But one wonders what happens to the many-years veterans of this struggle who never do have or adopt children. They don't cross over. They're still infertile and they will be always. That may someday be some of us who are now young (I'm 26). And of course adopting one child - or two - doesn't really make you not infertile. Maybe it makes all the difference that matters (I don't know). I suspect that being an adoptive parent is an adjustment to who you are somewhat like the adjustment of being an infertile woman, but, again, I don't know.

But anyway. What does it mean to be infertile? I'm coming more and more to think that it's some part of who we are - not a reaction to something that's happened, like losing a job, but part of what it means to live our lives. The journey and the experience aren't about the difficulties of IVF or the adoption process (though they may be part of it) but about what it means to be us. Of course, I'm being presumptuous. I can only really say what it means to be me. But I think a diagnosis of infertility is unlike a diagnosis of, I don't know, a sixth finger, or having some sort of illness (oh, let's say endometriosis). At least, it seems that way to me. So that's what I'll be writing about. I hope some other people in the same place will find this and I'll hear some of others' insights and stories. It seems far easier to connect here in the cyber-world than it is to discuss infertility out in the real world.

1 comment:

  1. When you spoke about dreading going home, oh, the flashbacks. I was in a place similar to yours and am so sorry you are going through this. I am praying for you.