When I first made my cute little Lilypie ticker, I thought I’d only have to keep it in my BabyCenter signature for a few months. Six months max. I never thought it would say “1 year & 2 days”.
Not even four hours into the dreaded one year anniversary of us TTC, I had a massive cry fest. The word “year” stings like salt in a wound. 1 in 8 women experience that same unique sting. It’s something that I would never wish on my worst enemy. The sting keeps you awake at night and forces so many tear drops to fall down your face.
Since I’ve made my TTC/infertility journey public one year ago, I’ve dealt with my fair share of insensitive comments. As well-meaning as they may be, they don’t help in the slightest. Infertility has already made me a bitter person and hearing advice from folks who have no idea what it could possibly feel like is like additional salt into that special ‘sting’ I spoke of earlier.
“Just relax, and it’ll happen”
“At least you have one kid!”
“I understand how you’re feeling. I had to try for two months to conceive my baby.”
I have heard it ALL. I have been recommended dozens upon dozens of supplements from those who know what I’m going through and those who don’t. I have been advised on all the different positions that I don’t really care to discuss with folks outside of my bedroom. I have had bullshit MLM products SHOVED in my face with promises of it “CURING” PCOS. I have had people tell me that I should just be happy that I have one living child, as if I’m not appreciative of what I already have. I am ALLOWED to be thankful for my daughter, while also having a deep desire for another child.
I don’t exactly know where to go from here. I have a doctor’s appointment next week. I’ve cancelled this same “infertility consultation” appointment twice in July because I was too scared. Too scared to be told that my chances of conceiving a baby naturally (read: without IUI/IVF) are slim. I just want my ovaries to do their job. I’ve been told that PCOS is something you have your whole life, but then how the hell did I conceive Bella? Was she a fluke? I don’t mean that in a negative way, but the fact that I was able to have a child at all is astonishing to me.
Part of me wants to stop trying. The other wants me to keep going. What do I have to lose besides tears and money and time?
Anyways, I apologize that this isn’t exactly well written. I’ve had this in draft mode for days, and if I don’t press publish now, I never will. These are my raw emotions, and I needed to get them out there some way. If you are also struggling to conceive, feel free to reach out to me. <3