Issue 008
Facing the Fragility of Fertility
I guess they call it social conditioning or whatever, but for as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a mom, and/or at the very least, seen myself, at some point in my life, as a mom. I mean since we’re here, let’s also blame it on the Disney fairy tales we’ve been fed since childhood, or the nostalgic 90’s Rom Com where the leading lady gets the dream guy, loses him, gets him back- you know the rest- then comes marriage, and the baby carriage. I’m a sucker for a good love story and all… but what happens when real life follows the opening credits??
You know, the real life that still finds you desiring love, marriage, and a baby carriage, regardless of whether nature or nurture is to blame. Oh yea and the real life, biological part where at 35, you wonder, while love has yet to find its way back to you, will the baby carriage scenes get lost in life’s edits?
I’ve accepted that I am absolutely a hopeless romantic and love all things love. Up, down, inside, out, and around. The angst, the bliss, the joy, the passion. The rough, the uncomfortable, the uncertainty, the unknown. I want it all. I’ve imagined it all (in my Adele voice- true fans know what I’m talking about). But what happens when it seems love is taking a little bit longer than your biological clock has the time for?
Well… here comes the intermission, because I’m still trying to figure that out! In my process of taking the space and time to ask myself the hard questions, I realized I was facing the fragility of my fertility; and challenging old and entertaining new ideas about what I need, what I want, and what I'm potentially willing to go without. It’s funny how it’s not until you get a bit seasoned in life that you realize, and most importantly accept, that even the best, and most thorough life plan is at the mercy of the universe. I fondly remember having late night conversations with my college roommates where we fantasized and dreamt out loud our visions, and dare I say confident expectations for our futures. Spoiler Alert: Ain’t none of that shit happen! Well some of it did, actually lots of it, but those parts where we all thought we’d be married by 25, and toting our one and a possible roundabout 30…welll life didn’t quite deal the cards that way. So with my deck in hand, deciding whether to hold out for love or fold to fertility is the high stakes bet on my table.
Earlier this year, I decided to take the first step in understanding the odds of my fertility. Since I was still popping baby prevention tablets, my attempt fell a bit short. I was told since I was on birth control and wasn’t currently experiencing “known infertility” (6 months of actively trying with no luck), there wasn’t much information I could be provided. Now a few months sans birth control, I find myself, yet again, at the decision crossroads: Do I just let life light the path? Or take matters into my own hands?
At a few months into 35, at least for now, I’m trying to find the balance between the two. That balance looks like seeking baseline fertility testing to help inform whether further preservation of my fertility is encouraged, needed… or even required. The fear of the unknown can be quite paralyzing though, because ignorance is bliss, right!?. But, the reality is: Ignorance is in fact not bliss, but fear. And remember that one time I said I was no longer allowing fear to lead the way? Right?... Right! So instead, walking with that fear means naming it!
So here it goes… starting with the biggest one first: What if fertility has never been an option, and because I’ve never accidentally or actively tried to get pregnant, there’s no way I could have known?
What if I move forward with freezing my eggs, and I’m still unable to conceive? Down goes Frazier and damn near $20K.
What if freezing my eggs or subsequent fertility treatments isn’t a realistic option because finances won’t allow? Uhhh Baby got bills, and retirement is for just that… retirement.
What if I choose not to take the preservation route, love comes along, and find out I’ve completely missed my window of opportunity? Will I, will he, will we, be content with the version of life that results?
What if partner nor parent are titles I’ll hold?
What if the life I imagined isn’t quite my reality?
BUT, then…
What if it ALL works out? Just the way it’s “supposed” to… parent, partner, neither, or both.
I’m finding that life is a waltz with faith and fate. While we must remain faithful the life we see and want for ourselves is within reach, our choices and their consequences, positive or negative, determine our fate. Whether my future fertility is more of a wager or a crapshoot is to be seen, but what I am learning to accept (and appreciate) more and more is that my path is mine and mine alone. It doesn’t have to mirror the scenarios of others or the scenes on a screen. It just has to be one I faithfully see. It just has to be one I fearlessly seek. It just has to be one I unapologetically lead. It just has to be one that fulfills me!
Stay tuned…