{One in Eight}

One in eight couples suffers from infertility.

{We are the one in eight.}

Each couple with infertility faces different obstacles.  My heart aches for those who, like us, are struggling, often silently.  Infertility and loss are a taboo subject—one that makes others uncomfortable.  There is an unspoken rule that one shouldn’t mention it, let alone admit that they are struggling.  We are the one in eight, & to be perfectly honest, I don’t care if that makes you uncomfortable.

For us, infertility has been a long and ugly road.

Four plus years later, we are still in it up to our necks, no closer to growing our family than the day we began.

Infertility has been ultrasounds & diagnoses, tests & pokes, blood draws & blown veins.

A shelf of injections in my fridge, a sharps container on my bathroom counter, & a constant stash of ice packs; welts & never-ending bruises; prescriptions & vitamins & supplements.  Pineapple cores & pomegranate juice; rapid weight gain & nausea; hot flashes & lots (& lots) of tears.

This journey has seen baby showers that aren’t mine & the constant urge to “just look” at the baby aisles in Target.  Days when I want nothing more than to snuggle someone else’s baby, & days when I can't hold one without welling up.

Eight failed IUI’s, an HSG, & enough ultrasounds that we lost count of them months if not years ago; five hours round trip for a single appointment with our RE; arranging and rearranging my entire life around appointments, month after month.

Each month, we go in to this disaster with more hope than the one before.  I hear my husband, somehow always stronger than the month before, whisper, “This month will be our month…” & more importantly, each month we cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, that is true.  With more disappointment than we swore our hearts could handle, we continue to make progress in this journey because while our hearts and our current feelings matter, growing our family matters more.

Infertility has taught me a lot—to be more sensitive, to be open & honest, & to hope when there doesn’t seem to be any reason to hope left.  I have learned to brush off insensitive comments & try to believe that people mean well.  

Through this all, we have managed to hold to a single mantra, though sometimes barely whispering it: 

“& if not, He is still good.”

Infertility has proven to me how great of a man I married.  If you had told me on our wedding day that we would fight this battle, I wouldn’t have believed you.  We were *going* to have a big family, & we were going to have it fast.  I wanted a minimum of five kids, all close in age, & now we pray for even just one.  

Infertility is ugly—we have built and rebuilt our marriage over and over in the past four plus years.  Sky has carried me from bed when I can’t drag myself from it & ran bath after bath for me, when things get too tough. He has held my hand through countless procedures, & reminded me to think positively when it feels impossible.  He has begged me to let him give me “just one more shot,” when we both know there are more coming, gingerly managing to find the least bruised spot of my stomach to poke the next injection.  He has sliced pineapple after pineapple, and taken care of me in both simple & very difficult ways.  He has consistently done his best to be my rock through this journey, learning with me as we go.

We are the one in eight.  & while I wouldn’t wish this path on my worst enemy, I am grateful to have this man by my side for the journey.

#nationalinfertilityawarenessweek #oneineight #listenup #ourstory #andifnotHeisstillgood