Love, support and friendship

I posted my “infertility coming out” post over the weekend and in the days since, I have been overwhelmed by the amazing amount of support I have received in the form of likes, shares, comments and messages. I have felt so alone and afraid at many points in this journey, and the amount of love I feel now makes me know I truly have never and will never be alone.

I was frightened at what people might think of me for pursuing these types of treatments and for putting my story out there. I honestly believed people would think I was desperate for attention.

Nothing could be farther from the reaction I have received.

People who have never dealt with infertility said it offered them a new perspective and made them think about the things others may be facing.

Some loved ones offered support from experiences I never knew they, or someone else they loved, had.

Other members of the infertility community, both in my “real-life” as well as part of my “online life,” have said the post echoes how they feel. It encapsulates so many of the emotions they keep bottled up, afraid to share it with the world.

Those were the biggest compliments anyone could give me.

I didn’t write the post to reflect the emotions of the entire group of infertiles or to tell the world about infertility. I wrote the post as a kind of catharsis, ridding myself of the emotional baggage I lug around. I outed myself so I could be true to who I am and what I am going through. It only resonates with others because we all feel these things at one point or another in this journey. It’s a sorority to which none of us wanted an invitation and the initiation is tougher than you can imagine.

I’m still in the shallow end of the fertility pool, but there are some days my legs are tired from treading water. I feel like I am in just above my head, and trying to stay afloat. I know there are others who are further along the spectrum. I can only imagine how big the life preserver needs to be to keep them moving forward- how big it might need to be to keep me moving forward in a few months.

I feel as though the post came from the most honest part of my soul. I laid my heart open and allowed others to see what is inside of me. It was terrifying and liberating, all at the same time.

I’m an English teacher, so I have long told my students to write what they know because honesty generates better writing. I was doubly afraid to post this blog because I don’t routinely share my writing. My husband says I have a type A personality. I don’t think that’s true in all parts of my life, but I definitely think there is a level of perfectionism that seeps into my writing life. I am afraid to share all of the things I have written because I am constantly afraid they don’t measure up. It was nice to know people appreciated both the sentiment and the writing, this time.

Some folks said they would like to keep reading what I have to say. So, I guess I will keep writing and posting. It probably won’t be a daily post (probably closer to once or twice a week after Infertility Awareness Week) but I will remain honest and share my emotional struggles as we navigate this rocky path. As I promised in my first post, I won’t inundate you with TMI (although I think my uterus’s Twitter account could be hilarious... I’ve already picked out a name... The Uncooperative Uterus). But, I will share some of the struggles, the joys and the humor that comes with this territory. Yes, among the humiliating and humbling experiences, there is humor that still survives, if you are open to experiencing it. So, I promise to share all of my emotions as we move through treatment. It won’t always be fun or pretty, but I sincerely promise that it will be honest.

I also understand that sharing these posts via Facebook might cause some folks to delete me from their friends list. That’s ok. It’s your Facebook. I don’t proselytize about religion, politics, or any of my other firmly held beliefs. But, I won’t apologize for sharing my reality.

So, dear friends and family, I’ll make this promise to you. If you’re still reading, I’m in if you’re in.