Fertility Warriors

They call us warriors. The broken, lost and constantly grieving ones. I never understood why because I never thought of myself as a warrior, I thought I was barely surviving. How could I be a warrior? Infertility is something you just try to survive. You try to make it through each day, each negative pregnancy test, each month. How could I possibly be considered a warrior?

There were days when I felt humiliated, violated, completely drained of any and all self respect. My body betrayed me, three times and continues to every month I don't get pregnant. Warrior? Psh. I'm weak, tired, depressed, pissed at myself, at my body. I'm broken. I'm also pretty sure warriors don't sit around and feel sorry for themselves. Warriors fight, amid the chaos. Warriors charge full speed ahead, running into danger and don't think twice about it. But that wasn't me.

Although I've chosen to take on fertility treatments, I definitely wasn't running towards them. I was anxious making appointments and second guessing whether or not I could do this. I was cowering in the waiting room, convincing myself to not run out before they called my name. I was a wreck thinking about another stranger that would be elbow deep in my parts by the end of the appointment. I would cry the entire hour drive home, only to sob myself to sleep at night reliving the probing, tests and blood draws that blew out my veins. Warrior, nah not me. I never felt like I was doing anything but barely surviving.

I've realized now, three years later mind you, that I did more than survive. I made it through the darkness and have found a way to cope (which is by talking about it, posting about it, raising money and sharing my story). Looking back on the beginning of my journey, I realize now that I was a warrior, the entire fucking time, I just didn't feel like one until now. When I look back, I think a lot of those feelings had to do with how I was grieving. Grieving the fact that my baby would never be in my arms. That we would only look at our due date on the calendar each year without actually being able to celebrate a birthday. Grieving my body, my empty baby box, my inability to create life.

Warrior is defined as a person engaged or experienced in warfare. A person who shows or has shown great vigor, courage or aggressiveness.

Infertility is warfare. It is a constant battle and the only way out is a baby (and sometimes one isn't enough). You are at war with your body, your mind, and everyone around you whether they support you, or don't; know your TTC or not. Infertility is war and if you're just getting started, surviving the depths, or barely making it through YOU ARE A WARRIOR.

Read it again. And again. And again. Until you don't know otherwise.

Being a warrior means a lot of things to me because infertility isn't just the fact that you can't have a baby, its:

• surviving baby showers (if you can even muster up the courage to go to them)

• not losing it on people asking when you're going to have kids

• breaking down in the middle of target

• buying bulk pregnancy tests

• hormonal acne

• watching everything you eat and timing when to eat things like seeds, pineapple core, brazil nuts and pomegranate juice, just in case it actually works!

• charting your temperature and cervical mucus every. single. day

• hearing comments like "just relax" or "can you just adopt?"

• pregnancy and gender announcements that seem to happen way more often than usual

• bloodwork, ultrasounds, recording follicle sizes and sperm counts.....shall I keep going!??

It's sooo many things that remind you every single damn day that you aren't pregnant. Having to survive the constant reminders on top of appointments, blood work, missing work, and don't even get me started on the cost of all of this, is way more than enough to classify every single person going through infertility (at any stage) a warrior.

It wasn't until I started sharing my story and joining support groups that I felt closer to being a warrior. I didn't see the other women in these groups as broken, I saw them as complete bad asses. I saw them as Warriors. So why wasn't I considering myself one? Why wasn't I able to sit with the warriors and be proud that I've survived long enough to share my story and to help others along in theirs? Why did it take me so long to realize the value of my story? I honestly don't know the answer to any of it, I just know that after all this time I've earned my battle scars and I want to show them off.

There are still days where I ask myself if I can actually do this?? But then I think of what would happen if I didn't. If I just gave up. I'm too stubborn to give up and I'm too scared to know what would happen if I did. So here we are, starting IVF. Starting a new chapter in our lives that will hopefully end our war.

All my love,

Skye