I have been fortunate enough to experience pregnancy and childbirth, but I do long deeply to experience it again. My grief over my secondary infertility is definitely centered on my pain in being unable to give my husband more children. Part of what brought us together as a couple was our simple desires for home and family. I think knowing what we created together in J makes it even more painful. I think my feelings are also exacerbated by the fact that the only problems we can find are with me; all his tests are good. So I can easily place it all on my shoulders. Which is ironic, because my beautiful husband says that just having me and J is enough for him. He is a wonderful, loving father.
Elinor finally finds out there's a reason for her pregnancy problems, "a balanced translocation," and finds "there's solace in learning that something is tangibly wrong." How does (or would) a definitive, action-able diagnosis affect your ability to adjust or come to terms with your infertility? How would it affect your emotional response? Would it provide some closure? Alternatively, if you're in the unexplained category how does that ambiguity affect your decision-making and desire to keep trying?
The sadness in not having another child, especially one close in age to J, would not be different if I had a diagnosis (I am indeed one of the retched "unexplained"). However, I do think it would be much easier to cope and make decisions regarding treatment if we had a diagnosis. As a potential age-related, decreased ovarian reserve category member, it is difficult to decide how far to go and when to stop. Since expenses also are a factor in our decision-making process, it would help to have more concrete picture of the situation. I know that somewhere in there there must be a couple decent eggs left. But will I ever see them? Will IVF coax them out? Or will we just flush all our money down the drain? And will I ever get to spend a month without wondering if this could be THE ONE?
I thought about my biological clock while pursuing my professional degree; I didn't want to ignore it. But fate worked things out in such a way that my husband and I couldn't manage to just be poor and in school together. So we alternately worked and went to school. That made us older by the time I felt we could possibly consider children. Then it took almost a year to conceive J (which I know they say can be normal, but I swear it was a harbinger of things to come). While we were trying I did focus on my career. Then once I had J, I abandoned my profession to stay home and support DH's pursuit of career. Now I'm neglecting my career in my pursuit of more children. Once I knew I was facing IF, I dropped any consideration of returning to work and threw myself into procreation. I often wonder if I'm so engrossed in this quest that I'm neglecting my husband and son.
I pay attention to IF. Sometimes I pay attention to my son. When he is around I briefly pay attention to my husband. I've stopped paying attention to a career I pursued (and paid for) for seven years. Am I paying attention now to the things I should be paying attention to now? I don't think so.
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