Everyone Else is Pregnant

I debated whether or not to post this.  Often I'll write something just to get it out of my head.  A way to express myself without actually having to engage if you will (I'm a bit of an introvert) and I don't always publish what I write.  I certainly don't want to offend anyone and I don't want to give the impression that I'm unhappy or ungrateful - I'm not.  But I do have moments of sadness and this blog is MY space.  Ultimately, I decided to share my thoughts because I know there are others who can relate...


It feels like nearly every friend/relative is pregnant right now (at least 5 ladies that I can think of!).  Even quite a few bloggers I follow have recently announced pregnancies.  I’m having a tough time with all of the announcements lately.  (Not to the point where I'd stop talking to people or unfriend them... ahem.  I've experienced that firsthand.)  I’m not exactly sure why I'm feeling down.  It’s not like I haven’t heard my fair share of pregnancy announcements over the years.  I’m happy for friends and family.  I really, truly am.  And I know I’ve come out on the winning end of infertility because I have two perfectly amazing boys who bring me more joy than I ever imagined.

So why am I sad?

People have asked me if I feel like I missed out because I’ve had two c-sections instead of a natural birth.  My answer: No.  Absolutely not.  Not at all.  The births of the boys were perfect and my recovery went relatively smoothly post c-sections.  I’m a little curious what a natural birth would be like, but I certainly don’t feel like I missed out on anything. 

I’ve also been asked if I feel like there’s a void because I don’t have a girl.  Again my answer is no way.  Not at all.  When I found out W was a boy, I was a little nervous because I’m so girly.  I don’t like getting dirty.  I hate bugs.  I don’t do camp outs, video games, or super heroes.  I haven’t even seen Star Wars… GASP.  But I quickly learned that none of that matters.  Because I can make a toy car zoom, build towers, draw doggies, make play dough stars, build garages out of Magna Tiles, and read all the best books.  And I can do all those things in a single day!! :)  W doesn’t care about the things I’m not interested in or don’t do – he’s only concerned with the activities I excel at - and I can build some pretty amazing garages if I do say so myself.  And S.  My smiley, content baby boy.  Always willing to go with the flow and up for trying any new food I place on his tray.  I wouldn’t trade him for the world.

I do wonder what the future will hold as the boys age.  I talk to my mom nearly every day and I don’t envision the boys wanting to discuss the Oscar dresses or the cute shoes I found, but hopefully they’ll still want to spend a little time with mom when they’re grown.  And I’m ridiculously excited for little league sports.

But there is something I feel like I missed out on.  And that is conceiving naturally.  IVF was always our only option.  An option I’m so thankful for.  But I do wish we could have a baby without all the monitoring, medications, and shots.  And every time someone announces a surprise pregnancy, it stings.  They weren’t even trying for a baby and they got one??  I have no idea what that would be like.  Yet some people endure SO many IVF cycles.  And many times they aren’t even successful.  It just makes no sense to me.  I’ve also had quite a few ladies tell me that they wouldn’t have pursued IVF if they couldn’t get pregnant on their own.  Although they don’t mean it to be offensive, it does hurt my feelings.  It’s a personal choice I know.  But in a weird way, I feel like it implies my efforts weren’t worth it or that they weren't willing to try that hard.  And unless you're in a situation where IVF is your ONLY option for expanding your family, you really can't say how you'll feel about it.

Anyway.  I think the hardest part of all the pregnancy announcements is knowing that we likely won’t have more children.  Not because we don’t want more, but because we don’t want to endure another IVF cycle.  Insurance won’t cover it and I think my body has had enough.  Not to mention the heartache that comes with a failed cycle.  And the thought of no more sweet babies in our future hurts.  And I feel guilty/ridiculous/greedy/selfish just typing that because I know so many are still in the trenches of infertility.  I’m actually one of the lucky ones.  Ugggh.

Apologies for such an emotional post on a Friday.  I wrote a related post on this and I’ll share it soon…