THE WHITE GLOVE TEST

Just because I now have a baby girl and a school-aged son, does not mean this blog is no longer infertility related.

How’s that for just jumping to the crux of a post?

I started a blog over three years ago. I actually missed my anniversary, which was back in August. You can read last year’s recognition of my illustrious start, if you are so inclined. When I take into account the blogs I have been reading during these three years, it’s not a long time. However, when I look over Mel’s list of blogs over at Stirrup Queens, I’m a veteran.

It bothers me that this blog may no longer be perceived as falling under the topic of infertility. If someone new stops by they may read all my posts about my pregnancy with ZGirl, if they can even get past the most recent posts about breastfeeding and exhaustion as related to a new baby. Then there’s the posts about my son; and work; and my in-laws. And every once in a while, one will stumble into a post dedicated exclusively to infertility.

Here’s the thing, though. Just because many of my posts do not contain the details of a consult with my RE, or the internal dialogue for choosing a sperm donor, or my feelings when all my frozen embryos died, does not mean that infertility was shuffled unceremoniously to the back burner.

When we lost our second pregnancy in November 2004, every moment from that point became tainted. Here’s an analogy for you in case I’m being obtuse, if not just too damned wordy: we are living in a new home (coincidentally, construction started in 2004). It’s a gorgeous house. If you stopped by, I’m sure you would think we were very lucky to have such a lovely space to raise a family. It still has that new home smell to it. But what you wouldn’t realize is there is a fine layer of dust that has infiltrated every surface of the house due to the fact we are surrounded by sand, and no matter how many times I vacuum and dust and mop, the dust remains. It just takes a few days to build back up again. You may not see it, but I do. I see it every. goddamn. day.

That’s infertility. It may look to you as if my life as far as having the my son and now my daughter, is now “perfect”. But no matter how large my heart swells in my chest when I see ZGirl grin at me excitedly from her bassinet, or when my son hugs me tight and tells me he loves me, there will always be a fine dusting of infertility that I will have to work at to keep at bay.

My blogging began as a result of infertility. That was three years ago. Having a new baby at home for two months will never discount those three years. Maybe in three years, I’ll feel a little differently. Maybe then this blog will finally be something else, but I will guarantee if you run your white-gloved finger over the surface, you’ll still find a little dust.