Personal post about my infertility experience… you have been warned.
There is a very slim chance that we could be pregnant. I never understood why people talked about being pregnant in plural, because only the woman is ever pregnant. Like really what does the man have to do with it? Now having worked at it consciously for the last two years, let’s face it ladies – we don’t get pregnant alone. A partner, friend, chum, husband, sperm donor , sometimes all bundled in one is what it takes to get us there.
In my case, the husband has been not just the voice of reason, an anchor, my support system through some very hormonal days , my friend when I managed to alienate others, my partner in crime, my chaperon at every doctor’s visit, but my man, my love, my life.
So when we were faced with signing consents f0r the potential IVF, I was a little thrown off by what each of thinks is an obvious choice. For e.g. in the event we separate from each other in the next year, my husband thought the fertilized embryos should automatically go to me. Why? Don’t you want them? Or in the event we both died, he thinks the embryos should go to my mom. I wanted to nominated my very single 38 year old friend who I have known for the last 15+ years. I felt like she knows me best and she would be the best person to raise my child, as who else could tell my child about me, like only she knows. I thought it was a mutually beneficial decision. I guess there is practicality and then there is practicality. Also if we were to both die, I don’t really think it matters what would happen to those embryos.
How much can we really plan for right? So here I am eagerly awaiting the next blood test, ready to plunge into the next phase of this journey and wondering how much do I really know anything any more?