[in]fertility.


'Infertility' is a word that I never paid much attention to. In my younger years, it certainly didn't faze me, and in recent years, I would let the word go in one ear and out the other. That's what you're supposed to do. That's what faith tells you to do, anyway. You don't accept it as having any bearing on your life or future and you stay positive. I truly never thought my life would have any intersection with infertility. Then when we were sitting in the doctor's office being told that there was nothing they could do and we were basically doomed in the having children department, I didn't have any choice but to face that word.

At first, I hated it. I was mad at it, sad about it, distraught about it. I felt like it was totally unfair. That stupid word wasn't supposed to be a part of my life, my marriage, my future. I mean, infertility doesn't exactly run in my family. In fact, it seems like most women in my family - both sides, mind you - can sneeze and get pregnant. I thought about that word constantly, along with all of the other terrible, negative, dead words the doctor had spoken over me. I over-analyzed it (a wonderfully exhausting skill I get from my dad), looked at it from every angle, obsessed over how to overcome it.

And eventually, I arrived at the point where I still am today: facing it. And this - this is a powerful place to be. This is the point that we decide we aren't going to be beaten down and moved by fear and hopelessness and (allegedly) failing ovaries and negativity. This is the point where we put a plan in place and execute. And I totally believe that this is the point where we start to see the tide turn. You see, it's ok to admit that having infertility is for sure my present. But what's better than (finally) being able to admit that is knowing and believing that it is definitely not my future.

It's completely freeing to stop trying to carry this alone and convince myself that everything is ok when it's totally not. I've learned that embracing this part of our journey is only motivating me and pushing me even more to keep going, not give up, and get to the other side.

I feel like infertility is one of those topics that women feel like they shouldn't talk about, or they're embarrassed by, or maybe just in denial about. I was definitely one of those women (all of the above). But there really is such power in stepping up and admitting that it's a struggle. It opens the door for such great conversations and a wonderful community of women who all want the same thing, but in addition want to help each other out, share experiences, and give hope to others who are still waiting. I only wish I would have arrived at this realization much earlier. As someone said to me the other day, this is a community that no one ever wants to be a part of, but the relationships that come out of it are priceless. So to this community, I say thank you for welcoming me with open arms. And to the others out there that are still struggling to come to terms with this, be encouraged that it's better to walk through this together than try to carry the burden alone. Xoxo

Grace With Attitude