Living Life on the Sidelines

Our infertility has taken a backseat to the real life grief of losing Jeremy's father. I was never more proud of my husband than watching him deliver the heartfelt eulogy he wrote for his father. It probably sounds strange to say this, but seeing the determination and strength Jeremy had in delivering the eulogy made me fall in love with him all over again.

But, alas, the world doesn't stop even when we think it should. Somehow, even though I was taking Letrozole in January, I failed to ovulate. Dr. S says stress can prevent ovulation, so it seems logical that something traumatic could be at the root of the problem. However, we had scheduled a "debriefing" appointment with Dr. M since we had done several cycles without success. I've searched long for the right term for the experience I had there, but nothing short of debacle seems appropriate. Long story short, he was rude and insensitive and I am never going back to him. The recommendations he made were radical and out of line with any other doctor I have seen. I'm working with Dr. S to make progress and show Dr. M just what an idiot he truly is. I may or may not be fashioning a customized Dr. M punching bag. 

However, in the meanwhile, I am taking a break from medicated fertility cycles. I have done 15 consecutive medicated cycles and spent the last 18 months throwing everything I have at trying to get pregnant. None of it has worked. So, I'm taking some time to focus on me, to focus on Jeremy and to focus on our life together. When I first thought about this, I had a moment of panic. How could I give up three months worth of chances? How could I sit on the sideline and watch life pass me by for three whole months? It was unthinkable.

Then, it hit me. I've been living my life on the sidelines for the last year and a half. I've been putting the "big things" on hold in hopes of a baby. I've forgone vacations to save leave time. I've worked sick to save sick days. I yearned and desired and wanted so badly. I've given up opportunities that I knew would make me happy because something else might somehow help me become a mom. I've forgotten to appreciate the remarkable husband I have by my side and the life we've built  together over the last decade. I did precisely what I said I would not do back in April: I let infertility define me. 

I spent those 18 months in the proverbial bleachers, standing on the sidelines, but never in the game. I worried and fretted about getting pregnant every month. I never drank a glass of wine or took a cold pill when I was sick. I read all the books and reports about everything related to my condition that I could possibly find. I listened to the doctors' advice. I wept monthly, sometimes daily, when the treatments once again failed. Nothing I did made any difference.

Losing Jeremy's dad only reinforced what I knew all too well from losing my mom nearly a decade ago. Life is far too short and fragile to put everything on hold, waiting for a distant dream. It's cliche, but it's true-- we're never promised tomorrow, so we must live today to the fullest. So, I am going after my dreams and finding my bliss again. I'm going to pursue things I am passionate about. I'm going back to what makes me happy. I'm going to do instead of watch. I've stopped letting infertility dictate to me and I am getting back into the game of life. 

So, instead of lamenting my time away from treatment cycles, I'm going to savor the days that build the fabric of my life. I'm not sitting in the bleachers. I'm not standing on the sidelines.

Put me in, coach. I'm ready to play.