Note: This article originally appeared on mom.me on January 27, 2015. Read the original article here.
If I had to pick what the two most difficult aspects of infertility are, I would tell you that: A) it’s one of the most emotionally challenging things to ever go through, and B) it’s fucking expensive. Like, really expensive. And when you take emotions and add money into it, you can start to see how someone could quickly spiral into an enormous amount of debt. Because there’s always that chance. Maybe next time it will work. We have a whole new treatment plan, so let’s try it one more time.
When we first started trying way early on, a lot of people told us we were young, that we still had time. We were told to relax, that it will happen in God’s time. I’d grit my teeth and put on a smile—trying, trying to remember that they were just trying to be supportive. Now, in the last few years of treatments, those comments don’t come anymore. I don’t know whether to be happy that they’ve stopped, or depressed that now I am no longer considered “young,” and that all the relaxing in the world has not yet gotten me pregnant. Now, the comments of, “Have you ever thought about adoption?” are coming up more and more. I get it, so far, it hasn’t been very successful. But hearing that makes me wonder, are people trying to tell me to give it up? To move on?
A few weeks ago I received a comment on a post I wrote explaining the numbing fear I have about not being able to have a child. I was told that I was selfish for continuing treatments when there are so many children out there, and my money could have been better spent on adoption. My thoughts on those comments were: My dear, you are entirely missing the point of that whole article.
Which brings me back to the beginning of this post. Infertility is emotionally draining. And it’s expensive. Am I selfish for spending thousands of dollars on treatments for a child I am not sure I will ever bring into this world? I don’t know. What I do know is, like everything else in infertility, no one really knows what they would do in a situation until they are in it. There are those who get a diagnosis of infertility and go on to adopt lots of children. And that’s wonderful. Sometimes I wish I could do that. But right now, I can’t. Because I am fighting for these last one or two cycles for a child I can carry inside me. Christ, I already know I won’t have my own biological children. But my husband can. I want to see my husband’s features in our child. I want to experience pregnancy, morning sickness, feeling the kicks, the screeching pain of childbirth. And I am not going to apologize for that.
Is adoption completely out of the cards for us? Never say never, right? I’m almost 30. Who knows if down the road, when we replenish our bank account, if we won’t attempt the adoption process in a few years? But right now, we are not going down that road. We are continuing to pursue donor eggs, and have the faith that it could work with our new treatment plan. Because that’s all I have. I just wish that some people would understand that this is an incredibly hard enough process to go through without reading the shocking comments belittling the last two and a half years of fear, sadness, anger and disappointment.
The choices I have made with my husband have been far from easy. But they have been my choices and when I am finished with all this, I hope I can live the rest of my life without wondering what could have been. Just as in the transition to donor eggs, there is a transition process to adoption. It involves grieving, and a whole new “stage” if you will, of infertility. Because the wonderful women I know who have decided to pursue adoption all say one thing: It didn’t cure their infertility. It doesn’t diminish the pain of not experiencing a pregnancy. It’s not as simple as “just adopting” and more importantly, it doesn’t make the emotional or financial aspects any easier to bear. It’s an incredibly personal decision to make, and it’s not the road for everyone.
I wish more people would understand that.