Because this post is about secondary infertility, I talk about my children quite a bit in it. I want to warn you all up front so that you can avoid reading any further if you know that you can’t handle it right now. I don’t discuss my children to wound, but to explain why infertility hurts even if you already have a child.
CD 24, 8 DPO*
When I wrote about my trip to the White House last week, I had a number of people email me or message me on Facebook to say how excited they were to hear more about me outside of just infertility. It made me realize that there is another huge part of my life I don’t discuss in the Attain Fertility community. My children.
If you’ve ever followed the links in my bio, you know that I write about my children on my personal blog all of the time. But I avoid talking about H&H here, aside from the briefest of mentions or when it’s necessary to explain my medical history. I avoid sharing stories and heart warming anecdotes because I know just how hard it is to hear about those special moments when you’re staring down infertility for the first time; when you’re worried that you won’t ever have a child.
My brother and sister-in-law are struggling with infertility. They got married about a year and a half ago and my sister-in-law had a miscarriage last summer. I won’t invade their privacy by sharing more than that, but I know they desperately want to start a family. And I wish them success, perhaps even more than I do for myself.
You see, when you already have children, you tend to minimize your struggles with infertility. At least, if you’re anything like me you do. You think, “how can I selfishly want more, when I already have so much?” You beat yourself up relentlessly when encountering people who’ve struggled more or longer than you have. If you’re like me, you may even be hesitant to blog about infertility or participate and comment on other blogs about infertility because you feel like you aren’t worthy to be part of the infertility community; you aren’t worthy of their support. You minimize your sense of loss over miscarriages and failed cycles. After all, there are plenty of people out there like my brother and sister-in-law who don’t have children yet.
But infertility isn’t about whose struggle is greater, it’s about the loss of dreams.
Last night, I was reminded about that during the Oscars. I was watching the final number at the end with the kids’ choir singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow and I started to cry. It wasn’t just those cute school kids from Staten Island singing their hearts out, it was the song itself.
When my boys were born and I was thrust into motherhood, I realized I knew very few lullabies. For the most part, I sang them TV show theme songs and commercial jingles. Gilligan’s Island and the Slinky commercial were my favorites, mixed in with a horrendous version of Shake Your Booty by KC & The Sunshine Band that I morphed into Shake Your Tushy. Just in case the boys were paying attention and decided to pop out “booty” as a first word at the church preschool.
One of the only real lullabies I ever sang to H&H was that song made famous by Judy Garland in The Wizard of Oz.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high,
There’s a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.
Someday I’ll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far
Behind me.
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That’s where you’ll find me.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly.
Birds fly over the rainbow.
Why then, oh why can’t I?
If happy little bluebirds fly
Beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can’t I?
I sang the song to H&H, not because I have a great voice – trust me, I don’t – but because the song is about following your dreams. I want my children to always, always follow their dreams. Hearing that song last night, reminded me that dreams really can come true. When I watch my sleeping boys they are the proof of it. I want that again.
I hope that my brother and sister-in-law have the chance to realize their dream, but I also want to have the chance to sing about dreams and rainbows to another baby. And that’s OK. It isn’t selfish of me to want more. Infertility isn’t just about the struggle and the medical conditions, it’s about the dream of more love in your life.
We’re all suffering from infertility and we’re all worthy of support. We’re all worthy of having our dreams come true.
Photo by Stephanie Himel-Nelson
CD = cycle day DPO = days past ovulation
