As a result of infertility, I have learned many things about myself, and about the human condition. Before infertility, I never knew that I was capable of jealousy so intense that someone else's good news could make the sun stop shining. I also never would have imagined that I could learn to be so patient. (To be clear, you still have to measure my patience in dog years to get a number that fits onto the chart, but compared to the extreme instant gratification girl I used to be, I'm doing pretty well.) I also never could have known that something that I didn't have could make me so sad, that my husband could make me smile on my darkest days, or that I could become so close to people that I've never met. I can't say that I've enjoyed a second of it, but infertility has been nothing but a learning experience. I'm a different person as a result, and I do like to think a better person.
Pregnancy after infertility is a horse of another color. While infertility made me miserable, pregnancy has made me absurdly happy. So happy that it's hard to believe that I could stay this happy. This makes it hard to believe that I could stay pregnant. Ridiculous, I know, but I am finding the wait for my ultrasound on Tuesday very difficult. Every time I have a little cramp, or don't have a little cramp, or don't feel nauseous for a second, or realize that my boobs don't hurt QUITE in the same way that they did yesterday, the fear takes over. 90% of my attention is below my neck at all times. I have recently seen several thoughtful posts about the epic battle between joy and fear that goes on in the heart of the newly pregnant infertile, but somehow I always thought I'd be able to keep it together. Such hubris! I now laugh at my naїve former self. When I first got that elusive, miraculous positive hpt, I promised myself that once I saw a doubling beta, I'd relax and enjoy the pregnancy. After the doubling beta, I promised myself that I'd calm down after I saw a heartbeat. Now, three days away from possibly seeing that heartbeat (please please please!), I'm starting to realize that this paranoia may be with me for the long haul. Well, no worries. There's plenty of room. Paranoia, I suggest that you make yourself comfortable in the seat in between the neuroses generated by body betrayal and the emotional scars from years of disappointment and bitterness. Just stay away from the bluebird of happiness that sits on my heart if you know what's good for you!