First and foremost, I’ve been diagnosed as a “Habitual Aborter” as well as “Infertile Due to Diminished Ovarian Reserve.” (My AMH is an astonishingly low 0.04, for all you who understand what that means). Second, I’m anonymous. Because being anonymous allows me to be more honest. It also means I don’t have to imagine my coworkers reading about the medical devices I’ve had shoved up my Hooha.
I should also tell you that I’m a writer. And I am a very private person. And these two things conflict with each other quite often. The writer in me wants to put everything into words. And the private me isn’t quite sure how to even say it.
In case you need to picture who I am exactly, I am the woman who stares enviously at you and your screaming child in the checkout line at Target. I am your sister, co-worker, or the friend who you can’t quite understand hasn’t had kids yet. And for so many people out there, I am you.
I’m documenting this challenging time in my life because between some sucky moments of this journey, there are some pretty funny moments too. And I really hope one day I can look back at all of this, laugh and say “it was all so worth it.”