I’m a bad infertile. I depress with my success. I unload my anxieties. I stop writing because I am both too happy and too scared and feel too guilty for going straight to IVF and getting pregnant on my first try. So many other infertiles fight for years and here I was, this naïve, but pained woman. I got lucky. I was blessed. I want it again.
The rest of my pregnancy was plagued by fear, pains and emotions. But, it was all worth it. My baby boy was born healthy and beautiful. I had the perfect labor, thirteen hours, my mom made it in time, it was all so smooth. I will do it again.
My maternity leave was a blur. For twelve weeks, my perfect baby was fussy. Unless he was held and patted on the butt, he cried. No, he didn’t have reflux. He was just high needs. It was stressful, draining and frustrating. I would do it again.
As soon as I went back to work, he calmed down, started smiling more, interacting more. It simply appeared the baby we wanted so badly needed a break from his mommy. I felt guilty for wanting a break myself. I wait to do it again.
There will be another. We don’t know if it will be a two years from now, having success with a FET. We don’t know if it will be six months from now with a miracle. We don’t know if it will be five years from now with our lucky millionth cycle. But we have our little boy and I have to have another of our own. I loved being pregnant. I loved giving birth. I want more.
If I sound greedy, bitchy or needy, I apologize. If I could take what I have and share it with all of those women that felt the despair I did just one year ago, I would. I thank the Lord for this blessing and I wish the same for you.