Hello curious readers who have stumbled upon this blog,
Today I’m finally starting this blog. It is something I have done in my mind several times over the past year but now seems like the time to actually get it going. I’ve always used writing as an outlet so it only makes sense to do so on our journey of (in)fertility. Somehow calling it straight-up infertility seems a little grave and pessimistic and, although I suppose that’s what it is, I still semi-refuse to call it that.
This struggle to admit to being infertile is reflected in the name of this blog: Today I Bought Waterproof Mascara. That day actually was several months ago in January and it seemed like a defining day for me, finally admitting we were having real difficulty conceiving and that I was, in fact, crying every Sunday in church. (I feel bad for our worship team having to sing back at my ugly cry face each week!)
But it is so hard, isn’t it? To acknowledge the reality that we’re not really in control of something? That the way we’d always assumed things would go is now out of reach? For me this realization has come and still comes in waves, but that January day was 14 months after we’d starting trying to conceive and the second cycle on fertility medication. Nothing like taking meds days three through seven to make you realize there’s a problem.
Each post in this blog will begin with the “Today I…” stem, sharing the real-life, ugly, quirky, and even amusing experiences of infertility. My hope with the blog is that it will not only be an outlet for me, but also that others dealing with infertility may feel less alone in their journeying. I also hope that friends and family of people with infertility might use it as a resource to better understand this road on which their loved ones find themselves. Believe me, we hardly understand it ourselves and we know you’re trying your best to be loving toward us in our messiness.
So, today I begin blogging. It’s been easy to avoid so far, as it seems so common to take a while to get pregnant, to have to take medication, and I have to admit that I thought that would be our easy solution. But now with eight months on meds and two IUIs under our belts, I’m emerging in yet another form from denial land. We’re not able to make a baby on our own. We need a doctor (and a resident and a lab tech team and a nurse and a PA) to have his/their hand/s in the process. It’s a harrowing thought but one to reflect upon, to take in, to laugh at, to fight with, and, ultimately, to integrate into our story and hopefully to glorify the Lord (somehow).
Enjoy reading and please leave any comments, your own experiences, questions for infertile people, or otherwise uber-helpful content. I don’t know about you, but traversing through life, I’m thankful for waterproof mascara and for the acceptance that comes with it.