I just started writing one day….. about my infertility. I’d been to a Hospital appointment, not about my infertility, but for a scan related to an gynea operation. I was asked how I felt about my infertility?
I cannot count how many times I have relayed my information to Doctors over the years…..It has turned into the longest and most (medically) documented part of my life it seems, perhaps now, with an ending in sight.
At 45, I am now past my time to have a child with my own eggs. I think this fact is having a major impact on me. The relief that, part of the unknown is gone, has altered the pain that went with it. I feel I have run the course and there is some relief in some final finality.
I am writing this for myself and other women with infertility issues.I am not a doctor or nurse, I haven’t spent years on statistics (tho now I may start).It’s not a medical report or a treatment diary or a tv style ‘happy ever after’ story about me having a baby against all odds. I still don’t have children.
Its a view of life over the last 27 years and the effect that my infertility I now know, has had on me. Also the way I have really embraced it at times, and been shaped by it.
It’s for anyone who would like insight, but this is only my experience. I know there are many others out there, with enlightening stories to tell. I feel I have worked hard with this issue all my life,with nothing to show for it,not in terms of having had a baby..maybe this will be something to ‘show’ for it.
This is for the other women like me, to acknowledge all of our journeys with infertility, journeys that aren’t heard.