Face planting on concrete: Road rash, struggle, and infertility

I know you’ve been there, I know you know just exactly what I’m talking about.

That red, sore, black and blue road rash, which covers the heart of every single woman who has faced down infertility.

It’s a road rash that we will carry with us for the rest of our lives–a scar that will heal, yet leave in it’s place a lasting reminder of just how many times we face planted on concrete.

Of course not literally face planted (though some of us may have done that as well). Perhaps however it would have been easier if a collision between ourselves and an immovable hard surface were all that I was referring to. That pain would eventually be forgotten. Ours, never will.

Every time we try another treatment, change to another diet, exercise more, exercise less, stop drinking alcohol, throw away the BBT chart out of frustration, and then dig it back out of the garbage five minutes later, we face plant onto concrete.

Those in our lives who love us try to understand. They arrive with Neosporin and gauze (a.k.a., wine & chocolate), hoping to soothe the burn. Thank God for them, they hold us together when our seams are breaking apart. Yet every time we look in the mirror, we still find the road rash staring back at us.

When my husband returns from an international trip in a month or so, we will begin our adoption journey. Yet even with that knowledge, when I went in to have my blood drawn yesterday–to test numerous things, one being my FSH–I face planted on concrete. Our lives are moving forward. We will have our chid. I am happy.

And then, WA BAM, ouch, darn it! The crazy monkey’s in my mind start running wild inciting fear. What will my FSH be? Will it still be in the “normal” range? What if it’s not? What if something else looks really off?

WA BAM, ouch!

And so, I pick myself up off of the ground. I look at the red road rash, and as I shake the pieces of gravel from my heart, I realize that infertility, and all of the accompanying fears, sorrows, anxiety, and hurt, will always be a part of me.

One day we will all move forward from this place. Either we will conceive, we will adopt, or we will make peace with a beautiful life that does not include children.

We will all move on from here. And when we do, we may need to remember that though we have moved on from infertility, infertility has not moved on from us.

Infertility is the scar from the road rash that will never disappear. And so, we make peace with the face that looks back at us from the mirror of time, and we learn to catch ourselves quicker as we begin to stumble, falling into a face plant on the concrete of life.

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