Speaking of Eggs…

*Resolve to Know More Blog 1 of 7
for National Infertility Awareness Week 2014

Speaking of Eggs...

It is Easter Morning but the only eggs I can think about are rotten eggs. My eggs. I just peed on another stick and the pregnant line that had me elated 3 days ago has faded to the point where it shows I am “not pregnant.” Again. I will find out in 2 days with my final blood test the results of my 5^th infertility treatment, but I’d bet my money this is a chemical pregnancy.

A chemical pregnancy is the best kind of miscarriage you can have (I don’t know why I typed the word “best”, as if a miscarriage could be anything but devastating), because it ends before things really get started. This chemical is not like my last pregnancy—that one ended last October 2013 in my second trimester. I was wearing maternity clothes, people in the playground were asking me when I was due, we found out I was carrying a son, we had his name picked out (my angel, you will forever be in my heart, my dearest, beautiful, angel, baby boy). And then one day, I had to go to the hospital and he was gone forever. Just like that.

A great poet I once knew wrote “the sun shines on things I’ll never have.” For the first time I can finally say this no longer applies to me.  The sun shines on my precious, year-old baby girl! Every day I look at my Nicolette Star and still cannot believe she is here. I wanted so badly to give her a sibling, as my husband and I adore our own siblings more than words. But my girl will never have that relationship. Not that being an only child is a bad thing—I know lots of happy only children. I just wanted to have one more baby. Just one more to give to my Nicki. I will turn 45 in one week and our insurance coverage for fertility treatments ends with that birthday. We are unable to afford the astronomic costs of treatment, and have also decided not to put my body through any more risk and danger, now that Nicki is here and needs me.

I have been pregnant five times. I have four babies in heaven and one precious star of an angel asleep in her crib as I type. I have had such a long, sometimes horrific journey toward parenthood (google cervical ectopic pregnancy, methotrexate, and Edwards syndrome, for starters) that I thought would never end in a silver lining. That’s why my cup runneth over with gratitude that my baby girl is here and the three of us are a family. She is advanced, hilarious, and beautiful. But I cannot pretend my heart and womb do not ache with the losses, the names, the faces I’ll never see, the hair I’ll never smell, the voices I’ll never hear.

But for all my losses and heartbreak, I can name many women and couples I have met that have gone through or are going through much worse than what my husband and I have gone through. I know and acknowledge every day that I am very, very lucky.

I am somebody’s mommy now.

It wasn’t long ago I was crying to my husband on Mother’s Day, “I just want to be somebody’s mommy.” I am! So on this Easter Morning, I think I will shift my focus from my “rotten eggs,” to that one, golden, glorious egg that became half of my angel asleep in her crib in the other room. Her little white crib is my Easter Basket jackpot. Genuine gratitude is a great healer. I can’t wait till she wakes up so I can see her pretty eyes again.

*In support of National Infertility Awareness Week  (and my own healing process), I have hijacked my own cooking blog to come out of the closet and discuss infertility. I hope that these blog entries will help—even if just a little bit— lift the terrible stigma that surrounds this disease. The amazing people involved with the non-profit organization Resolve have supported me every step of the way on this 5-year-long, insane journey. I will always be grateful.

I would be honored if you would help spread awareness by sharing this blog on your Facebook, Twitter or other social media pages!