Infertility and endometriosis

I’m not bitter talking about infertility and endometriosis

A 28 year old woman explores the emotions of attending a baby shower while dealing with infertility, endometriosis and IVF treatment.

“Are you sure you actually want to have a baby? I haven’t slept in days! They never stop crying.”

Yeah, I would too if I was your child. Just one of the many inner thoughts I keep to myself as hold back an eye roll. I force a smile, “Ha, you’re right! Maybe I haven’t thought it all the way through.” What I really want to say is ‘fuck off’ but I turn around and scan through the pastel dressed party guests for the cocktail table.

Why did I even come to this god forsaken baby shower? I sip my ‘Blood Orange you glad it’s a boy!’ mimosa as I slide open the patio door and take a seat. I know I’m annoyed because part of me wishes it was me. I can’t believe I thought it would be easy to have a baby. Easy to get pregnant. Easy as essentially everyone around me makes it seem. I would be 4 months pregnant if my second frozen embryo transfer had stuck. But it didn’t. Now my husband and I are back to square one.

Talking about infertility and endometriosis amidst the nightmare that is a baby shower! Click to tweet

IVF round two is on the horizon. I can’t wait but I’m also terrified. My eyes well up with tears, as they usually do when my mind wanders down this road. I knew today would be hard but then again, every day is hard. My mind finds it’s way here at least four times a day.

I cringe, shake my head, and bring myself back to this current baby shower nightmare. I walk back inside and lose myself in a ‘Baby Bump’ slider.

I will truly never understand why people want to have a baby shower. Even if I was pregnant, I would avoid one at all costs. It sounds dreadful. Not only are the games the absolute worst, but all the ‘Boy’, ‘Girl’, ‘Prince’, ‘Princess’, ‘Blue’, ‘Pink’ nonsense is too much. If people want to help and get a gift, then great. Ship it to me. Or bring it with you if we’re already hanging out. Don’t wait for some lame party. The only thing I appreciate is the puns. I mean, ‘Blood orange you glad it’s a boy!’ mimosa? Damn, that’s good. I’m a sucker for a pun. And blood orange anything.

Read more: How to cope with infertility when everyone is pregnant?

This is my first baby shower since I found out that I’m infertile. At 28 years old. Well, I guess I’m not ‘infertile’. I have stage 4 endometriosis that went undiagnosed for 15 years. It spread through my reproductive system, severely impacting my ovaries and egg quality. I’ve had to have 2 extensive surgeries to help ‘fix’ the unfixable and remove unsalvageable organs. So, I’d like to take a moment to truly thank all the doctors and OBGYNs out there for not believing in me. You never gave up. No matter how much agony I was in, you just kept prescribing stronger ‘pain medicine’ instead of identifying the source. I truly wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for you and your complete lack of understanding the female body.

Dramatics aside, I really don’t want to be bitter. This is my journey to growing my family. Every person has their own, and this is mine. It’s just taking a lot fucking longer and costs a ton more money but whatever, at least I have options. I have privilege to be able to choose where to go from here.

And for some reason I’ve chosen to be at this fucking baby shower? Maybe I turned into a masochist these past 2 years, who knows. But I like who I’ve become. It’s interesting experiencing all these things through a new lens. It’s something I want to share because I’ve never read stories about infertility. I always thought it described the 45-year-old that wants to conceive. Not the person that’s had several unexplained miscarriages, the perfectly healthy family that’s been trying for 2 years, or the 28-year-old whose pain has been mis labeled as ‘normal’ her entire life. There are numerous stories out there that I don’t know. So, let’s start fucking talking about infertility and endometriosis.