Reluctantly Waving My NIAW Flag


A blog I read recently challenged those fighting infertility to “be brave” and “out yourself” by leaving the #NIAW on social media this week.  I rolled my eyes.  Infertility is the LAST thing I want to draw attention to.  I write an anonymous blog.  I kept my infertility a secret until we were told we were “untreatable,” at which point I was forced to confess our diagnosis, and while I’m happy a second opinion ok’d us for IVF, I find myself bitter that I had to make public all my issues in the process.  I don’t like being pitied or talking about my feelings.  Infertility is not a cause I want to fight; it’s a club I want out of.

I do understand awareness is unbelievably important, and I know infertility is a growing issue and knowledge base.  I am so thankful for the information out there on the web, and owe my sanity to the blogging sisters sharing their war stories and testimonies.  So I do support NIAW, but from the sidelines, as a closeted, reluctant participant, hoping to quietly step out a side door one of these days. 

I tip my hat to you, infertile community, but that’s all.  I don’t invite a lengthy heart-to-heart where we stay up all night and talk about our feelings.  I don’t want to cry on your shoulder (but you can cry on mine if you have to, just not in public, please) and I don’t want to say out loud that we share this ugly common ground. But nonetheless I tip my hat to you, because I know your hurt and shame and deepest, most searing disappointment.  I know you aren’t asking for much, and I know how hard your marriage and your bank account have been hit.  I know you put these things aside every day and go to work, show up, and do what is expected of you in life, even though you don’t get to realize the most basic of expectations. I tip my hat to you, because you are fighting the good fight, and you are not alone.

I like to think if I pass you in the street, today or on any other day, we will make eye contact, nod, and continue walking by.  At a baby shower or gender reveal, or when the millionth person is announcing that millionth pregnancy, I like to think we’d see each other across the room, silently make eye contact, and nod.

Maybe this sounds miserable to you, because you need a lot more support in life, and want to talk it out and feel all the feelings and have community around you, and that is a-okay.  Everyone is different.  This blog, however, represents my journey, and how I prefer to acknowledge NIAW and this ever growing battlefield.  You see, I know you and I are both capable and strong and will find the resources and the roadmaps to keep going.  I don’t need your phone calls or your hugs along the way.  But I do feel a wave of relief when you tip your hat back to me, because we are in this together.

“But as for you, be strong and do not give up, for your work will be rewarded.” 2 Chronicles 15:7


T-3.5 Months

Mondays are always NUTS at my job, and it’s really inconvenient that I need a good day or two to get myself back into work mode.  There is a ton on my to-do list, far too much for the next 3.5 hours, but instead I’m blogging.  And for the record I’ve already online shopped, facebooked, zillowed, texted, and read all the advice columns I can find.

So this blog has been silent lately mostly because there has not been much to tell.  Ryan continues to feed his body clean foods and steer clear of alcohol.  He hasn’t been perfect, but he’s lost 20 lbs!  This has been good for me, too, since it’s teaching me how to live the clean-eating healthy lifestyle.  If all goes as planned and we have a kid, I want that kid to have the best in utero health and the best education growing up on how to feed it’s body.  The hardest part for me has been staying away from sugar and desserts.  Red meat, fried foods, potato chips, none of it really calls my name.  I love fruits and vegetables and whole grains. But I really love chocolate, frozen yogurt, cake and pie even more.

Anyway, I’m supposed to start my period in a week, which is maybe why listing off desserts sounds like a good idea.  Once I do, I’m supposed to call Kaiser and schedule a “trial transfer/ saline sonogram.”  Then, assuming all goes well, we sign up for the IVF schedule in the last week of July, and pay $13,200 up front for one cycle of IVF with ICSI.

Perhaps as we get closer to it we will feel more nervous, but for the time being Ryan and I are cool as cucumbers.  It’s been a looong road to get to this point (and we’ve gotten farther than this in that other cycle in Fall 2015), so we just aren’t ready to let our emotions go haywire. What’s another few months?  What’s another unexpected delay?  We’ll get the when we get there.

We FINALLY sold our house.  It took us 4 months and 3 escrows, and miraculously the owners of the new house patiently waited for us that whole time.  We moved in two weeks ago, and are surrounded by lumber and tools and sawdust and heinous wall paper, but it’s totally ok, because the construction zone won’t last forever, and we have the most serene, jungle-like back yard.  In the mornings I can hear the creek and the birds chirping through the bathroom window, and it’s pure and utter peace.  Ryan and I are still looking at each other in disbelief.  We half way expect someone to show up and say “Wait a minute, that was a mistake, this transaction needs to be reversed.”  How we traded in our urban 900 sqft, 100-year-old Craftsman for a 3bd/2ba Ranch with a sprawling, totally private backyard is beyond me.

We had to wait for it, and it was hard.  But it was good for us, since our waiting muscles are really strong right now.