I imagine myself walking into a dingy community center with a piece of paper on the door saying “Infertile’s Anonymous.” When it’s my turn to talk to the room full of other infertiles this is what comes out…
My name is Lindsey and I’m an Infertoholic
I used to smile, now I pretend to smile.
I used to go to the doctor once a year, now I go once a week.
I used to feel healthy, now I feel sick.
I used to take 1 pill a day, now I inject myself regularly.
I used to eat gluten, now I dream about it.
I used to hope my daughters wouldn’t have Blue’s nose, now I pray they do.
My life revolves around my next infertility fix, whatever it is that day/week. Maybe it’s a doctor appointment, or lab results, or another wanding? Maybe it’s Dr. Goo.gle.ing, or acupuncture, or that piece of pizza I have to watch everyone else eat? Maybe it’s the vitamins, or the injection video I need to watch, or questioning the protocol my doc put me on?
Whatever IT is that day, IT consumes me. I can’t think about anything else. If it appears that I’m paying attention it’s because I’m a great pretender.
Infertility has taken over my life.
I can’t believe my family and friends haven’t forced me into an intervention yet.