it’s the most worth it thing.

We’re (obviously) fairly open with our journey and struggle to becoming parents. I don’t feel like it’s anyone’s job to be the voice or the face of infertility– in particular celebrities. It’s great if they choose to share. It raises awareness, education, sensitivity. But infertility sucks. It’s heartbreaking and dream crushing. It’s a personal sadness people shouldn’t have to share if they don’t want to share. 

But this week Jimmy Fallon did. And his wife must be over the moon with her new family– in particular in getting to see, for the first time, her husband become a father. I can’t wait. 

(click the picture for a link to his interview with the Today show).


we’re not broken, just bent

Every single time this song comes on, I can feel it reaching into my bones.

Every single day I am reminded that my husband and I are struggling with something that is so profoundly life changing and out of our grasp that the only thing we can do is hang on until things fall in place.

Hanging on to one another during this process is so … abstract. We don’t know how. We have been married for 5 years. We have struggled with infertility for 4 years. Infertility is our normal. Disappointment is our normal. Roller coasters of hope are our normal. Grief, dreamless and indecision are our normal.

But we know that we can find a new normal.

We’re not destroyed, we’re just a little damaged. Just a little bent. And we can be fixed.

We have come to the fork in the road of decision and we have chosen a path. We are going to carry every. single. thing that brought us to this path with us. Our friends, my community of infertility support, our family and our son. It sounds like a lot of luggage, right? But we need it all. Because when we get to the end of our road and we are finally a family of four, we need all of those things to make our family feel at home. Each one of these people helped carry us a step along this path and our family belongs to them.

National Infertility Week Awareness is an opportunity to share our story with others so that they might get a glimpse into our journey. So that perhaps one more person realizes that being vocal about this isn’t as scary as it seems. Or even that the person who remains silent on their journey feels comforted by the words here because they echo the thoughts they live with each day.

But even more than that, National Infertility Awareness week is an opportunity for me to be thankful for the friends we have surrounded ourselves with. People we’ve never met,  people I went to high school with and haven’t seen in 10 years, people we see once a year, people we see a handful of times a year and people we see everyday– we love you. You belong to our family. You have helped us grieve. You have helped us live. You have helped us find love. We are forever grateful to you and your support.  Because of you, we can learn to love again. You’ve made it possible and you’ve given us a reason.

Thank You.

a dedication to the infertile

Things that are really hard with a baby:
-middle of the night feedings
diaper blowouts
-getting the minimum required hours of sleep for a functioning human
-eating with one hand
-running out of crib sheets in the middle of the night
-leaving the house
-going to the bathroom alone

Things that are really hard when you can’t have a baby:
-every season’s family-focused holiday celebrations and traditions
-every failed cycle
-every public encounter of a pregnant woman & families

Each infertile woman reasonably understands that raising children is difficult, for a variety of reasons. But those that have not experienced infertility are simply unable to understand how hard it is to not to have the opportunity to do those things. It is sincerely difficult to not parent if it’s all you have wished to do.

I’ve wished for a happy moment in a hospital bed. A loving peck on the forehead as an acknowledgment for a job well done as a strong, healthy cry leaves the lungs of something we made together first sees the world. I’ve wanted to explore all of the features of my child in order to find the pieces of my husband in a laugh or a facial expression.

We find ourselves here, though. In a perpetual land of ‘wants but can’t haves’. At a fork in the road of happiness and heartache, where the directions are determined largely by finances and how much fight you have left.

Of those two conditions, finances and fight, here I want to focus on the fight. I want to dedicate this post to the resilency of infertile women (and couples) everywhere.

Some of the best people I have had the pleasure of calling a friend are infertile. I have watched them fight for weight loss in order to have an opportunity to do IVF. To wipe the savings accounts set aside for responsibility in order to try. To walk away when heartache becomes too tough to handle. These, my friends, take fight.

As National Infertilty Awareness begins, I want to recognize the Aimees, the Stephanies, the Emilys, Abbys, Anitas and Amandas of this world and say “I see you. I recognize you and your daily struggle and I am here to help you fight when you can’t do it alone.” I want to say there is beauty and grace in this strength that is impossible to see from the inside, but it is there. Happy endings are too far and few between in this community. You all deserve happiness and I wish it for you, but I want to honor the pieces of you that feel both realistic and unrealistic, hopeful yet careful, and wishful but grounded.

Lastly, I wish for peace at the end of your journey. Peace in not just the outcome, but in the decisions that bring you to the end and in moving forward once decisions are made.

This is dedicated to all those rightly bittered by infertility.