I wrote this in 2014 years ago and discovered it by accident. My heart was so broken, I could not share publicly. Now I’m ready, as we need greater
It is 7:15 on a Monday morning as I arrive to the Reproductive Endocrinologist’s office. “How did my follicles respond to the stimulation meds I started over the weekend,” I wonder. I walk in and count FIFTY people waiting already — about 10% of them men, seeming to be spouses supporting their wives. My husband does not come with me anymore. We’ve “been there, done that,” so he only joins me when he is “needed,” or rather the sperm is required. Sounds so impersonal and technical, doesn’t it?
Welcome to the world of infertility.
I decided to write this because I’ve noticed that when I mention the letters I-V-F, people give me a blank stare. I often wonder what they are thinking.
Oh, that sucks but I have no idea what you are talking about.
I’ve been there.
I know someone who has been there.