Monday, February 8, 2010
Without a doubt, February is a very woeful month for me. 2 days from now, it will be exactly one year that I received the news. After 2 years of medical fertility intervention, my first pregnancy was not viable.The baby was growing in my right fallopian tube. I was responsible for creating a precious life and then I was responsible for sweeping it away to save my own. Sign here on the dotted line. I remember every detail as if it were only yesterday. I worry that it will happen again.
As I approach, what doctors consider "advanced maternal age”, I continually weigh my options. I’m faced with the ultimate decision – be happy with life as it is…childless…avoiding more invasive medical procedures and move on with my life. OR, I could start over and try every experimental gynecological procedure under the sun to assist in our child’s conception while I’m still young-ish.
I feel so desperate. I feel as though the rug has been pulled out from under me and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m not eager to be sliced open like a grapefruit. I’m not prepared to put my body through even more medication distress. I’m not satisfied with living a childless life. I’m not ready to compromise.
I fucking hate (unexplained) infertility.
It wasn't my choice. I’m heartbroken.