Food for thought...

Part of why I love lurking on other blogs is that I never know when someone else is going to have a thought that just resinates with me. When it does, I feel a small little victory in my heart because usually the thought is something that makes absolute and perfect sense to me, and I KNOW that very few of my IRL friends/family could have had this thought. You have to be one of us, usually, to know. To just get it. And today, bugaboo hit one out of the park for me.

So we run around living our infertile lives, chatting it up with other infertiles online, living in a world of us (infertiles) versus them (those who have successfully reproduced the old-fashioned way). And it is true for most of us, as bunny says--we are fertility patients. We are being medically treated for complications with our reproductive selves. There are many causes, nearly as many drugs to try, and very expensive (both $ and emotionally) procedures to endure. We cycle, and cycle, and cycle. We live by calendars of 25 to 35 days, 6AM blood draws, and multiple meetings per day with our good friends 22G and 25G needles. We support one another, we cheer for each other, we grieve for each and every failed cycle and lossed opportunity. We are infertile, fertility patients.

But what I LOVED about bunny's post was the acknowledgment that from day one, from the first official chat with whatever Dr made you realize having a baby was going to be work and not play, we see ourselves not as having fertility POTENTIAL that will benefit from all the extra intervention but as patients who are broken and not normal. Not like "everyone else." Because until you discover the world of Blogroll, you really do think that you are the odd woman out. And this lens, this distorted vision shapes the entire journey. It weighs on your mind, on your relationships, on your work, and especially on your heart. Infertile is a very heavy word.

So I am going to change my lens. I do not want to live in the world of the infertile any longer. I am not just a fertility patient with broken parts and I am certainly not the odd woman out. I admit that my broken parts need help, and I am willing to do much to get the result I am seeking. But I have potential. And potential is all you really need.