Finding Peace With Infertility

Diary of a Fat Girl – Day 99

Weight:  229 lbs.

In my quest to bare a child, my days were consumed with thoughts of what I can do next to assure pregnancy.  I would push aside those pesky thoughts that this may never work, because, after all, in my mind it should work and there is no reason otherwise.  My latest revelation had led me to this journey of weight loss.  I had been actively pursuing this dieting train for the last six months with a total weight loss of 22 pounds.  Could I have done more?  Yes, and I should have, but was my heart really into it?

I have been thinking about this question a lot, lately.  I married at the age of 20 and immediately jumped on the parenthood bandwagon for six years with no success.  Divorce came but the desire to have a child never went away.  In fact, it was so strong that I failed to leave that little detail out of the “sex” conversation with each of my boyfriends after the divorce.  I would tell them of my unfortunate circumstance and secretly hope that maybe this time it would take.  After all, if I liked the guy enough to sleep with him, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have his baby.

I was desperate for a child.

After a few years of this insane crusade, the desire started to fade.  My eight year anniversary of my single life was closing in, and I came to the realization that pregnancy may never happen for me.  Years of tears and sorrow, heartache and gut wrenching pain were finally withering away.  I was finding joy in spending time with my nephews and in essence finding peace for my own barren womb.  I had settled into that peace, and what a glorious peace it was.  To be content with my own imperfection is an amazing gift I had to find for myself, and I lived in the that peace for a while.

Then I met Richard.

He was the man who swept me off of my feet when I didn’t want to be.  I had just left a sticky relationship and was in no shape for entering into a new one.  However, he fell for me quick and was persistent enough for me to take notice.  This gentle, wonderful, and caring man had already suffered through the pains of divorce and the separation from his two beautiful little girls.  He understood my resistance and waited patiently for me.  Already a pre-made father, he was okay with the fact that I might not be able to bare him any more children. 

Then he proposed.  He was such a sweet and loving man and it felt natural to say yes.  Riding high on the waves of love and beginning the phases of our wedding plans, I barely noticed that my monthly cycle was a bit off.  I had never bled for more than 7 days and at this time I was spotting for two weeks.  I decided to take a pregnancy test.  I don’t know why I did it, but I thought I should try.  After all, I did read that some bleeding could occur during early pregnancy. 

And then I was pregnant.

Four days after my engagement, I shed tears as the nurse gave me the same confirmation that I had tested for.  I was dumbstruck, how could this have happened, and to me?  More tests ensued and a short while later I miscarried.  We had estimated that I was only 3-4 weeks along when the miscarriage happened.  More tears, depression and heartache followed. 

Then, I had found a new hope!

That was four years ago; four long years of, yet another, roller coaster ride of emotions and fertility treatments with no success.  I turned 35 this year.  This was my goal.  I was to have a baby by 35.  If I didn’t, I might as well just give up the notion, and attempt to find that peace, again.

Four months after my 35^th birthday, I have found that peace, again.

I get to live each day knowing that I tried what I could within my means.  I began living a healthy life in which I am determined not to give up.  Especially after discovering how wonderful I feel everyday with just eating healthy foods.  The amount of money I save by eating foods that are filling are also an extra incentive for me to continue my healthy lifestyle.

Recently, my sister gave birth to another beautiful baby boy.  How precious that little life is, and how much I adore him.  I get to love another baby.  I get to take care of another child.  I get to play with him, spoil him, and pamper him.  I get to kiss his tears away when he cries and rock him gently to sleep.  I get to feel his tiny little warm body lay against my chest as I quietly hum a favorite nursery tune.   I get to look forward to him opening his eyes and seeing me for the first time.  I get to look forward to tickling him and cooing with him.  And, yes, I get to change his smelly little diapers and wipe the spit-up from my shirt.

He may not be of my own body, but he is a baby that I can love and adore.  I keep telling myself that I get to send him home when the going gets tough and let his parents deal with him.  But, I lie to myself.  We all know this.  I want to keep him no matter what, but I know his parents love him and want to keep him, too.  So, at the end of the day, my heart breaks as I send him home, only to build hope and excite for the next time I get to see him, again.

All of these feelings, I have felt three times before.  First it was Joey, then Devon, and then Nathan; all three of my nephews.  I lie to myself, again, by telling myself that Scotty is the last one.  But, it’s not true!  I have two more sisters and three more brothers; more nieces and nephews waiting to make their presence known in this world.  And I can’t wait for their time as well, because I will be there to love them, pamper them, and spoil them.

Then there are Richie’s daughters.  I may have missed out on their infant, toddler, and early childhood years, but I have their grown-up years to look forward to.  One day, each girl will make us grandparents and the joys will start all over, again.

I look at all of these future blessings waiting for us and I wonder to myself.  Why should I continue to create a battle with my own infertility when there are so many loved ones in my life who are able to create such beautiful gifts?

It’s been 15 years since I first heard that dreaded word.  I’m tired of the battles, the scars to my emotional heart, and I no longer desire to count the days or struggle to get my ovulation started.  Where my motivation to lose weight was once the focus of conception has now been shifted to a fulfilling life for future children to love.  I want to continue to live a healthy lifestyle so I can love these beautiful darlings of my family and friends.

I may not have a child of my own, but that will not stop me from loving the babies coming into this world.  And, maybe, one day, when I am settled into my own home I would be able to adopt an “unwanted” child.  Until then, I’m at peace!