I’m so lucky…
I’ve read through so many mom blogs and read story after story of multiple miscarriages, failed IVF, and every other horror imaginable on this quest to be a mother. I think about my two best friends, A and K. A and her husband found out that he has no motility, and that she will never have his child. They’ve gone through three cycles of IUI with donor sperm, and none have taken. K has Turner’s Syndrome, which in part means that her body shed all of its eggs before she hit puberty. She can’t have a child made from her own eggs.
What right do I have to have this blog and sit around whining about myself? After all, I’m so lucky, right?
-I got knocked up the very first month we tossed the birth control. I didn’t even so much as think about my ovulation cycle, my cervical mucus, or anything beyond “no condoms, whee!!!”
-This is a first miscarriage. I know (probably more than) three women whose first pregnancy ended in miscarriage and who now have beautiful healthy children. The odds were absurdly high that I would have a miscarriage at some point. I’m 28 (for another month, anyways) and the odds are in my favor that I’ll have a healthy baby eventually.
-For that matter Hope’s development points to a bad sperm/egg combo, not necessarily an issue with either of us. Which hopefully means a healthier combo next time.
So in the eyes of the more fertility challenged than I, I’m pretty fucking lucky.
Which makes me want to laugh, because really, what’s so lucky about losing a child, who although they’re not even the size of your thumb, is already your entire world?
I’m just as guilty of accusing others as lucky, though.
Every time I see a pregnant woman, or a woman with a small infant, my first emotion is a rush of jealousy, and my first thought is “she’s so lucky.” As if I know how hard won that huge stomach or newborn was for them.
Maybe it’s time to try and retire the word “lucky” from my vocabulary.