Infertility Collateral Damage

A few weekends ago my mom, Chica Marie and I went on a chocolate walk in a neighboring county. It’s a pretty popular event, so I had bought tickets in July and surprised my mom for her birthday. I had been to the chocolate walk a few years ago and my mom has wanted to go ever since, but, as life sometimes does, things happened and she was too sick or injured to go. Until this year, that is. On our 40 minute drive to the town Chica Marie informed my mom that I have a boyfriend. She had just discovered this herself the weekend prior when Primero was picking me up at a local winery after we imbibed a wine tasting and whole bottle of our favorite to celebrate my birthday. It was really big news for her, having seen us kiss good-bye, so I’m not surprised she told my mom. I wished I had been able to do it, but once the cat was out of the bag, it really wasn’t a big deal. I gave my mom some information and she said she was glad I had someone to do adult things with – she meant going out and having a wine tasting, but I chuckled at the double entendre.

 

It was an unseasonably warm day for our chocolate walk and we did a lot of walking, traversing the entire town and covering well over 2 miles from 10 am until about 3:30 pm. We stopped for lunch, after munching on chocolate goodies all morning, and somehow my mom and I got onto the topic of the natural herbs the practitioner recommended I take to help with my hormonal issues. As she has expressed in the past, my mom said she didn’t think I tried long enough with my ex. Inwardly I sighed. Outwardly I pushed back, declaring that we did try for almost 4 years and that generally it doesn’t take more than a year for a healthy young couple to conceive. She pshawed my remarks and insisted had we stayed together and tried longer things might have gone differently. I said it was a moot point and that my age was going to start being a factor now that I’m older than 35 and that seemed to quiet her complaints. I know she thinks I would be like her and since it took her 5 years to get pregnant with me, then it would take me just as long. I also know she wishes I could have babies as much as I wish I could, but it hurts nonetheless. And, it doubly hurts to think my mom doesn’t think I tried hard enough when it felt to me like I did what I could with the resources we had available. I have come to realize, in the collateral damage of infertility, I can’t get everyone to understand and be ok with the way things played out. I also know, I cannot live in the could of, should of world. The if only’s would drown me, the might have’s slay my heart. The possibilities look endless to those not in the trenches. I tried 6 rounds of Clomid, with the hot flashes, the headaches, the hormonal upheaval, the life-altering dizzy spells. I endured a painful hysterosalpingogram my doctor didn’t think I needed but my mom thought would be a good idea. I was given a diagnosis after multiple vials of blood, lab tests, and my first ultrasound. If my insurance had covered even a fraction of the treatment, I would have gone further. But, having to pay such a handsome sum out-of-pocket was simply not possible. And so, we stopped. I prayed fervently for a miracle, but one just never came. I have mostly made peace with my lot as is. I just wish my mother could do the same.