These were the words conveyed to me via an email from a former blogger about a month before Aitch was born in 2008. She had gone through infertility herself and was trying to find her land-legs as a post-infertility-slash-mommy-blogger. Her exact words follow:
“Slap me now, but it makes me miss infertility a little bit. The answer was always right there. Why am I not happy? INFERTILITY! And there was really very little need to look beyond that because infertility is huge and all-consuming. All other problems get shunted aside.”
These words were like a bolt of lightning the first time I read them.
They now shake me to the core with their foreshadowing truth.
For years infertility was my scapegoat.
Depressed? It was because another negative beta; a poor ovarian response; an inevitable miscarriage.
Weight gain? I blamed the hormone injections and birth-control pills month after month.
Aversion to gatherings of friends and family? I didn’t want to hear about “God’s Plans” or how “if it was meant to be, it’ll be” or the pitiful looks when they found out that I wasn’t going to stay pregnant.
Irritability at home towards Sparring Partner and/or Doodicus? They were collateral damage in my week to week failings as a wife and mother.
So what do I blame now? Infertility was my security blanket I was able to wrap around myself and hide under – to veil the truth that was beyond what I thought was The Problem. In my head, I know what IT is, but in my heart I just don’t want IT to be THAT because I have tried to convince myself I have nothing to be depressed about. I got what I went after, a sibling to my son who is everything and so much more than I could have dreamed. I beat infertility.
Yeah…I miss infertility.