Monday, June 1, 2009
I am 41 years old and I am not pregnant. My husband thinks we should try again, "unofficially," or some would say, "the old fashioned way." I am game but hardly hopeful. I first stepped foot into a fertility clinic two years and some months ago after trying for a second child for two years. The journey since that initial visit to the venerated miracle worker of reproductive medicine has led me to hell and back and I want to share my story. Ironically, I feel I am in a better place emotionally and mentally right now, after this last attempt at insemination failed than I have been in the last two. There is a certain amount of relief I feel with the decision to stop trying. As I said I am 41, much older than I ever would have thought I would ever carry a child. But I was open to it, believe me, and we tried. This story contains other elements than my quest for a second child as nothing occurs in a vacuum. One's life continues and things come up to distract and alter course. This story is how all these experiences changed my priorities and my goals; my knowledge of inner strength and healing; my faith in friends, family and the body and mind's ultimate ability to fight and emerge with the iota of sanity you never thought you would regain. I will try not to be cliche with the "life goes on" nonsense. I just want to write about my experiences and maybe people will be interested in them. More later. I'll keep you posted.