It’s National Infertility Awareness Week. It took us three years, about $30,000, some serious battles with hormone-related anxiety and depression, and a lot of heartache to bring a baby into our family. Our society doesn’t talk openly about infertility, but I think we should. Also, I miss my tiny one-day-old C.
I’m lucky to have a memory that doesn’t hold on very tightly to hardship. The heartburstingly glorious wonderful joy of living with C has obliterated any remnants of the pain and suffering it took to get her here.
I’m glad glad Shannon is willing to share our story. We were lucky to have good jobs, generous parents, and understanding employers throughout our fight with infertility. I had to leave work at unexpected moments, but I never had to worry about losing my job. We had to go into debt, but it wasn’t crushing. We are very privileged. Infertility could have been so much worse for us. I know it is for so many.
(We also had a great doctor.)
I’m bothered that the only reproductive health policies we ever talk about are those that force people who don’t want – and, therefore, probably shouldn’t have – children to have them. Meanwhile, thousands of people who desperately want children are left to suffer, usually alone, wondering what’s wrong with them.
This is not to say that I think we should look to government programs for a solution to infertility, but I do think we’d do well with public health policies that recognize the importance of helping children be born into families that want them.
Writing this down because I don’t want to forget. C did two things this morning that she’s never done before:
Slid the slider to unlock my iPhone and went crazy sliding screens everywhere and typing stuff. I worry all the time about how she must perceive our phones. I’m sure she’s not the youngest person to figure out how to “slide to unlock,” but it feels like she’s growing up too fast.
Asked me to draw her an armadillo with a hat on it. I was taking her magnadoodle requests and she requested “armadillo” by making the little grunting sound that Shannon and I told her was what an armadillo says. She then signed “hat.” She was pretty emphatic about it. I tried my best, but it was my first time.
I'm Jed Sundwall. This is my blog, which you can follow on Tumblr or via RSS. You can talk to me on Twitter.
