My friend Jealaine is a momma and a pastor.
When Jealaine gave me permission to share some of her family's struggle with infertility, I was honored to share it with you all.
Here's part of Jealaine's story:
With every pregnancy announcement, I died a little inside.
I smiled and celebrated on the outside, but on the inside I was crying and screaming, and at times, just plain pissed.
See, in several cases of infertility, the cause is unknown.
But even after having my husband tested, we knew what the problem was.
The problem was me.
I felt like I was Hester Prynne wearing her big fat “A”.
Except I wore a big, fat “I”.
I was tested to make sure my hormone levels were what they needed to be.
I had to have a procedure to make sure my Fallopian tubes were “open and ready for business” (as my doctor said).
And then I got the medication we would need to (hopefully) create a baby.
Clomid was our drug of choice.
I didn’t have too many side effects, which was nice. But, it was also weird.
I remember drinking a beer on a Saturday night and thinking, “This is the last time I will drink for a while,” because as soon as I started the Clomid, there would be no drinking.
Now, here’s where things get a little personal.
If you’re in any kind of loving relationship, I hope that there is a physical aspect of that relationship.
When you’re trying to create a baby (versus have a relationship for pleasure) it pretty much sucks.
We were encouraged by our doctor to be physical “every other day…if not every day.”
Think about the chore you loathe the most.
Yep…it started to feel like that...
Read the rest of Jealaine's post here as well as 10 things she's learned after struggling with infertility [My favorite is #7 about people blowing hot air up your ass with their ridiculous "solutions."].
National Infertility Awareness Week is April 19-25. This post was submitted as part NIAW's theme: "You Are Not Alone." If you are an infertility warrior and willing to keep this conversation going, please contact me.