Recognition

This morning it hit me how much infertility has changed me as a person. I sometimes think back to the pre-fertility battle me and I barely recognize that person. In my fervent reading on the subject I am consistently reminded that this is quite a normal phenomenon and that I will, ultimately return to some kind of "normal" state. But now, mired in the cave-like mess of it all, its hard to see a way back to to the entrance or even a tiny path leading to a new patch of sunlight.

Part of this changed life-course, my path through the cave, is visible to those around me. It involves the surface changes - the added activities in my date-book, the e-mails to my employer asking to find coverage for me during yet another doctor's appointment, the time and date of which are determined jointly by nature and the office staff, my needs not considered. I had a moment of pause when I found myself bent over my dining room table last night wating nervously for Randy to give me an injection of medicine which will prompt my ovaries to release their egg(s). How did I get here? I consider myself unlucky for having to endure these hassles but hassles can be dealt with as a part of everyone's life - everyone has their own unique circumstances which present them, from time to time, with a disproportionate to-do list full of inconveniences and these are not much different.

Its the changed parts of me that are not as obvious to outsiders that really make me feel like I have lost my way - lost my old identity. The next few posts will each highlight a deeper aspect of myself that has been transformed by infertility. Maybe it is my way of grieving for the me that used to be, maybe it is my attempt to piece together a sort of blueprint of my old self to serve as a guide in case I ever get to rebuild. Maybe it is my desperate quest to get others to understand that this is a big deal and that I have a good reason for becoming so messed up.