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Writer's pictureNicole Alviti

Tug Of War

Them: "Trying to get pregnant is the fun part!"

Me: "Obviously you have never tried to get pregnant."


So in an earlier post I mentioned that we are on our second timed cycle of hormone injections. We still haven't told too many people that we are going through this process, just our parents and a couple of close friends. For what reason though? We don't feel like we need to hide it, we are not ashamed of it, and we don't care what people think. It is however a tough subject that not everyone may be comfortable talking about. Not many people understand it, so disclosing what we are going through often leads to a lot of questions... and other's opinions. Opinions that we don't need - the "why are you doing this, why aren't you doing that", etc. Generic and cliche comments that we are tired of hearing - "just relax", "it will happen when you stop trying", "it wasn't meant to be", "something must have been wrong from the beginning", "it happens to a lot of people", "it's normal", "so you try again", etc. It just seems easier to keep it to ourselves, even though there are people who think we are acting distant or "weird" because we are tired, stressed, drained, on time limits, under strict medical guidelines, and trying to dodge this damn pandemic as much as possible.


There are some people who think we are being unreasonable, or "acting scared" or being "too careful". While it is frustrating that some just can't respect our decisions, or it seems accept our life, it is hard to be mad at someone who doesn't understand simply because they don't know why. Do they think we enjoy not being able to make plans, or having to plan certain tasks around certain days of a cycle or around doctors appointments? Needing to be home by a certain time everyday because I need to stab myself with needles and inject an obscene amount of hormones that make me feel terrible everyday? Or the fact that we can never plan a vacation or buy tickets to certain events, simply because "I may or may not be pregnant by then". NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS FUN. On one hand, I do want to explain so they understand, but on the other hand, I shouldn't have to explain my every decision, and shouldn't be made to feel like I need to justify myself to anyone, because really, it's none of their business. Honestly, just the thought of explaining myself to everyone is exhausting.


What these people don't know, is just how many years we have been trying to have a baby. They don't know how many babies we have already lost. They don't know we only got to hold our son for a day, breathless. That we only get to visit our son at his grave. They don't know all of the reasons why when/if I do get pregnant, that my pregnancy will be extremely high risk. They don't know all of the anxiety, stress, potential complications, about my heart condition, or the mental and physical torture I suffer from every single day during these fertility treatments or not. They don't know that if I do get exposed to Covid that my doctor has to cancel my cycle and stop treatment for an extended period of time (haven't I waited long enough?). The potential severe complications that contracting Covid could incur on my ability to be able to carry a baby. They don't know any of this. They don't know that every single day I am literally hanging on by a thread. So how can I blame them for being inconsiderate and judging? That's just the thing though. You never do really know what someone is going through on a daily basis, the demons they are fighting constantly. So, why can't people just have a little more respect, patience and compassion?


We have been punished long enough. I make no apologies for the decisions we make, or the ways we feel. We do what we have to do to get through the day, to get to our end game, to get to our rainbow. We know who our true people are. We know our support system. We are grateful for all of the love and support they give us every day. If someone can't accept our reality, then they are not our people. And that is their problem, not ours.

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