Losing my fertility, or finding that I didn't really have much fertility to begin with, has been my toughest loss and my toughest challenge. Always wanting one and not being able to have a child of my own has been devastating to my psyche and to my sense of womanhood. There isn't too much worse than having everyone around you, young and not so young, be able to do something that you cannot. My husband and I tried all kinds of treatments, all kinds of testing, clomid, IVF (including many drugs, many many ultrasounds, many, many blood tests), a couple of surgeries (actually I did those), relaxation therapy, yoga, donor egg teatments, and the good, old fashioned method. The only thing we decided not to do was adoption. We have nothing against adoption but we wanted a child biologically our own and adoption can not do this for us. While going through this emotional and physical journey, my former roommate died of ovarian cancer and my sister-in-law was discovered by her birth mother and found out that her birth mother had given her up for adoption but kept a younger sister by the same father. OUCH cn only just begin to talk about this pain and confusion. These both happened in the same month and helped with making the decision to discontinue both treatment and pursing a donor for eggs.
I dealt with infertility, initially, by hoping that I would get pregnant each month, which isn't exactly dealing with anything and hoping that my body would just do what I want it to do. While pregnancy never happened, I found that my desire to get pregnant lessened each month. As time has passed, my sense of humor and my sense of perspective have returned. Now if I could just go through menopause, the sense of possibility would also disappear. My younger sister has gone through menopause and I still have not, so I've decided that life is not fair and it's certainly not consistent. Now I'm dealing with this by writing about my experience in this blog and hoping that menopause arrives soon.