Several years ago, during a zoo course I took in a beautiful Boulder Open Space park, my classmates and I came across a tall conifer with an enormous lightning scar along the side. We spent some time talking about finding symbolism in nature. I think of that tree often - how violent that lightning must have been. How difficult it must have been to heal from the damage. How it still shows that scar today, but rather than being a symbol of weakness, it is a symbol of perseverance and strength.
There are many emotions we must wrestle with during infertility. Doubt is often pervasive. We doubt so many things - our bodies, our actions, even our clinics sometimes. Sometimes, we let that lightning take us down. Other times, we grow around it, stronger and more confident, but still scarred.
I found myself faced recently with a new type of doubt - the Doubt of Capability. There have been many moments along this road where I have doubted whether or not I am "capable." This is a common doubt for our community. We often feel that there is some larger power that has decided we are unfit to be parents. Those of us who are lucky, or confident realize fairly quickly the error of this doubt. There is no reason for infertility. This is not our burden because of anything we have done or not done. This burden has been given to us because everyone experiences misfortune, and this just happens to be one of ours. I long ago made peace with this fact.
So it wasn't this common doubt that I felt the other day. After four years of infertility, Marc and I are finally beginning to make some progress. We have four beautiful embryos (what I like to call "Future Gorensteins") waiting for us at our clinic. For me, this means a whole lot of medications, period tracking, and medical procedures prior to our First Ever IVF Transfer. So, this week, I had my first hysteroscopy, Doppler ultrasound, and Trial Embryo Transfer (TET). These are all procedures that every IVF patient goes through, and I was assured are relatively painless. Only a little bit of cramping, they told me. Prior to my visit, I was focused primarily on the fact that I couldn't eat chocolate for 72 hours (pure torture, by the way), and that I had to have an extremely full bladder for the TET. The hysteroscopy wasn't even on my radar. It was the very least of my concerns.
So I was surprised, to say the least, when I found it to be the most physically painful procedure I have had. It was at this moment that I was shocked to find myself thinking for the first time, "NEVERMIND, NEVERMIND, NEVERMIND. I CAN'T DO THIS." I was, quite literally, writhing in pain on the table, hyperventilating, losing feeling in my fingers and toes. For the first time ever, I thought I might not be strong enough to handle labor.
Even after the procedure was over (it lasted all of 30 seconds - who can even imagine what torture a multiple-hour labor would feel like???), I was rattled. The whole evening, I was questioning whether or not Marc and I were truly capable of being parents. I no longer wondered if some "greater being or power" had deemed us capable. For the first time, I wondered if we, ourselves, were truly capable. My day dreams have never gone past the first trimester.
Several times throughout this journey, I've found myself thinking, "If I ever actually get pregnant, I am going to savor every moment of it. I'm going to love every Lovenox bruise on my stomach. I'm going to savor every hot summer, every uncomfortable sleeping position. I'm going to give birth without medication, because I will know how glorious a gift this is." In the back of my head, I know these thoughts are naive. Everyone experiences discomfort during pregnancy - I will be no different, despite the struggle it took me to get here.
I have wrestled with and beaten doubt in many different ways over the past years, but it still sneaks up and surprises me sometimes. So I will keep that tree in my head, and think about how to overcome. How to use that doubt to strengthen myself, rather than letting it take me down.