That question has sat in the back of my mind for years now. It still plagues me today and the fact that I have to stop having children (whether I want to or not) only makes that question more pertinent. Because my body just doesn't work. First it doesn't want to get pregnant and then it doesn't want to stay that way. What kind of a rotten deal is that? I mean, I have 4 children but I'll only ever see 2 of them grow up because 2 of them died because my body failed. I had to take all kinds of drugs because my body failed. Hell, even while I was pregnant the second time, I spent most of my pregnancy injecting myself with huge needles and thick oil with hormones in it because my body keeps failing. How exactly is this fair? It completely kills a person's self esteem and leaves them feeling like a failure. This was supposed to be easy.
Inevitably, that one question leads to dozens of others. What if I passed this hell down to my daughter? What if I drive my children nuts hovering over them so that I know they're safe? What if I accidentally get pregnant and have to choose if I should try and have that baby? What if I died while trying another pregnancy? What if I lived but that baby didn't?
But there's a positive to all of this and ultimately that's where I'm trying to go. What if it doesn't matter? What is the end result is that the journey is, in many ways, over. And the result of that is two beautiful, healthy children. Does it make a difference how they got here? I'm starting to believe the answer is no. The journey was long, hard and unexpected. It was unfair and mean. But I can't focus on the journey for the rest of my life. The point of all of this wasn't the journey. It was the end result and that end result is a fairy tale of sorts. Fairy tales have scary moments when you think the bad guy will win but a fairy tale has a happy ending.
I'm starting to see that happy ending.
Take Charge - National Infertility Awareness Week
The Complete What If List