Written By: Hilariously Infertile
A little while ago I posted this GIF to my social media pages with the caption:
IVF is like climbing Everest . . . And then this happens.
Truer words were never spoken. When you are going through infertility treatment you feel like you are in a constant uphill climb. Getting out of bed in the morning and not crying — climb. Getting dressed in clothes that fit too tight because of the weight gain – climb. Choosing clothes that feel comfortable because of the sensitivity of your stomach – climb. Going to work, forcing a smile – climb. Everything is a test to measure your climbing ability.
Some days you’re not climbing at all, you’re just hanging on. You are not moving forward, onward, upward. You’re not moving backward, you are just hanging on for dear life, waiting to summon the energy to keep climbing again. Some days it feels like the whole world is against you, like everybody (and everything) is actually working to keep you down. Hitting every red light on your way to work after the morning clinic visit, breaking a heel, spilling something on your outfit — on a typical day, these things would be annoying but manageable. When you’re going through infertility, these little annoyances are exponentially worse — everything is magnified, overwhelming and unbearable. But you hang on, you might not keep climbing that day, but you hang on.
While hanging onto the mountain things happen, life happens. The gif is all too true. A huge force comes and knocks you off the mountain and stops your forward climb — most often, a negative pregnancy test result. This is heart wrenching and can shatter your will. Not only are you not pregnant, you now have to get up and start that dreadful climb all over again. Do you have the energy? Do you have the endurance? Can you handle it?
YES. You are strong. You can do more than you think and definitely more than you give yourself credit for. Infertility doesn’t define you. You are still a daughter, a sister, a wife, a friend. You can start that climb again, brace yourself for the cuts and bruises, but you will hang on. Eventually — when you least realize it — you will suddenly be through the clouds. The air will clear. The sun will shine brightly, and you will feel its warmth on your face. You will reach the summit, and all those months (or years) of climbing will feel like a thing of the past. You can then focus on the sun drenched smiles of life with the newest member of your family. Keep climbing ladies! We are here to support you.
A big thank you to Hilariously Infertile for this great article!