One of the hardest things to adjust to as a pregnant infertile is how no matter the road it took you to get pregnant there comes a point like the flip of a coin. There is a very distinct moment when you are infertile and hopeless and worried. And then the very next moment after that you are pregnant. This moment is often experienced while waiting for a stick you just peed on to tell you if you are pregnant or not. Or a call from a doctor’s office with the results of your blood test.
These two moments are so diametrically opposite of each other that your reality can’t accept either one fully and it’s like you tossed that coin in the air and the son of a gun landed on its edge, perfectly balanced between heads and tails, pregnant and not-pregnant.
Eventually after a ton of fear and worry your mind starts to accept the pregnant side of the coin. But it’s still with you. You can pull that coin out of your pocket and easily flip it back to the non-pregnant side and see and remember that all too recent path. That was your life, that was your reality for so long, and it pulls you back very easily remembering the sadness and worry. I don’t know if that side of the coin ever fades. For me it has not. For me it is still very real the past two-and-a-half years. I hope with time it does, but I also hope it doesn’t fade so much that I ever take this gift of pregnancy for granted.
And for the first time ever, in my community of infertile friends, I am the chick on the other side of the coin. I am the girl who got pregnant. And while I know how it feels to hear the news of a fellow infertile getting pregnant, I also know I’m viewing it from the other side now.
This all is the reason I wrote the post announcing my pregnancy the way I did. And this is why, despite my rambling, that this post is not about me. My friend Jen, (who I call Jen-Jen in my head) wrote a wonderful post about hearing the news that a friend is pregnant. And this time the friend was me.
Jen-Jen and I met in Boston, we both married our dream guys and thought we would all sail off into the sunset. But of all things, we both found out that we would face serious infertility. We are also both foster parents. I wrote about them here. Jen currently has three foster children under the age of three. PRAY for her.
I’d invite you to take a visit to read her post. If anything, if you are not infertile, it might help you understand a little of what we go through. And how when your life can sometimes seem like it rest on the flip of some cosmic coin toss, that you try to be extra sensitive to those still waiting for their coin to land.