A year ago, I wrote about National Infertility Awareness Week and how it falls the same week as my birthday. And, of course, that’s the case this year as well. I thought about calling up the good folks at RESOLVE and asking them to move the dates. But you know, then it would just be some other poor woman’s birthday who might also be struggling with infertility. And besides, this year is looking up for me.
At this time last year, I was just starting to give up my own designs to a higher power (the universe, whatever.) And I was trying to commit to accept my life however it unfolded. Instead of bemoaning my state, I tried to be positive. And when I learned about National Infertility Awareness Week, I jumped on board and began fundraising for The Walk of Hope to be held in June of last year.
Little did I know that by the time I actually participated in the walk, I’d be pregnant. Exactly one freaking day pregnant. The Walk of Hope was held on June 22 last year. And on the evening of June 21, I performed this little bit of mischief with the help of my friends. I didn’t know it, but I was already carrying the tiniest speck that would become my son.
There was a lot of hard work, long nights of crying and painful poking and prodding that went into making this kid. So I know it wasn’t just getting involved in fundraising and the walk that somehow tipped the switch over. But I do feel that taking my mind off just myself and my situation. Infertility is bigger than just me and my little sphere. It affects 1 our of 8 couples. That’s a huge percentage of this country that deals with the struggle daily.
So that’s why I am participating in the Walk of Hope again this year. If you’re a fan of this blog, going through your own struggle with infertility or know someone who is or was, please consider supporting Team Hungry For Motherhood with a donation. RESOLVE is good people and a good cause. And don’t forget the good-feeling endorphins your body will release when you click the donate button.
I want every family to have the opportunity that I am currently living. When Gibson is fussy and I’m really tired, I try to remind myself of all the mornings I cried over negative pregnancy tests. I try to remember the other women who are doing the same thing right now. Or charting their temperatures and injecting their bellies with ovulation stimulating hormones. Or waking up from a great dream about playing with their baby only to be hit in the face with the cold reality of morning again. Having to face the day, the week, the month again with no success in sight. Feeling like their efforts are wasted and rushed away in the wind of an uncaring society. I was once one of those women. And I want to help them. Please help me to help them.
This little face is a treasure. He wouldn’t be here without the intervention of fertility treatments and lots of hope. Help give other families hope. Thank you.