So the thing about infertility (IF) is that it’s fraught with if’s. If it works this month…If it doesn’t work this month…if we’re trying too hard…if we’re not trying hard enough. Then there’s the what if they’re right and we just need to relax. Or the what if I punch the next person who tells me ‘it’ll just happen, or worse ‘if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be’. If I had tried sooner? If I had eaten more fruit? If I had walked on the sunny side of every street, on every day would this be happening to someone else and not me. If this month doesn’t work, and the next month doesn’t work, will I know if it’s the right time to stop? If?
After 28 cycles of BFN – I need to try and figure out what I’ll do if it never happens. I do. But I’m not ready for that. If had worked the first month – one of those ‘oh my god! We were barely even trying and here we are pregnant and isn’t that great’ stories, we’d have a 17 month old baby. Walking. Talking. Instead I get to be the one friends trying to get pregnant avoid – maybe it’s contagious – this infertility. I get to be the one cornered at parties gently trying to explain why we don’t have kids yet and that no, I don’t really want to talk about it. I’m the one counting days 26, 27, 28, no. 1, 2, 3…26, 27, 28 no. Over and over again. 28 days, 28 months. That’s 784 days +3.
So next month we’re moving on to IVF. It’s our last if. If we have any chance, this is it. If this doesn’t work – well…we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Should you come across this blog while you’re going through the same thing, I hope you find comfort in my ramblings.
IF is all about uncertainty. I know that much is true.