A first post seems so self-conscious, but I suppose that’s the nature of blogs. I’m writing because I need an outlet, a place to consider the journey I’ve found myself on by trying (and failing thus far) to have a baby.
In some ways I’ve been hesitant to take this step. I’m not sure whether I belong here, whether I can label myself as infertile. I’m wary of the strange pseudo-competitive nature of infertility I’ve see references to on other blogs. I don’t want to compare and rank suffering, to measure and serve out pain in precisely-ordered allotments tied to treatment protocols. I don’t know what anyone else is going through. I’m sure my fears will seem small to some.
But I do know this. I am angry and frustrated with my body’s failure to ovulate. I am disappointed by my inability to share the contented optimism of my husband, who believes that this will all be sorted out within a few months. I am saddened to an extent that has surprised me by the realization I will not get pregnant without medical help. I have been stunned by my desire for a child, now that the making has not come easily.
I hope this blog will become about much more than infertility. I hope I’ll be writing one day about pregnancy, birth and parenting. If it turns out that my wait for a child is a short one, I think I’ll want this reminder of how bleak the situation seemed at the beginning, and how badly my child was wanted. If I’m settling in for the long haul, I want a record of how I felt along the way. And if my words can be of use to someone other than myself, so much the better.
I hope you enjoy the ride.
