Invisibility Cloak

If you haven't figured out by now I'm a huge Harry Potter fan (shhh, don't tell my my mom, really if you know her don't tell her). One of the things I love about HP, besides the story, the characters, and the entire world JK Rowling has created, are the little bits of magical items associated with the world of Harry Potter.

I love Harry's Invisibility Cloak. It had once belonged to his father, James. In Book 1 Harry receives it as a Christmas gift from Dumbledore with a note that instructs Harry 'to use it well'. Throughout the series, Harry takes Dumbledore on that offer (sneaking out of bed after curfew (book 1 & 2), sneaking into Hogsmeade (book 3), eventually using it for protection (book 6) while on the run (book 7)). I think one of my favorite times that he uses the Cloak is in Book 4.  Its for something really simple, and understated. He uses it simply because he doesn't want to be noticed.

I know Invisibility Cloaks are not real. There are some days I wish they were real because I'd love to have one. Just to have one so I can go about my day unnoticed by people.

I don't know what that says about me. Maybe because there are some days that I just don't wish to be noticed or seen. Because if I'm not seen, I don't have to answer questions about how I'm feeling, or what I'm thinking. And if people don't know what I'm feeling or thinking, they won't judge me.

This all sounds really depressing. I know, but it was something that I was thinking about. I don't feel like this all the time. Generally I like being around people, but mostly as a silent observer and not really a vocal participant. I think it also depends on my mood and what kind of group setting I'm in. I realize that I deal really well one on one or a small group setting. Large groups still kind of freak me out.

I'm just having a hard time with the waiting. I think I'll always have a hard time with it. I think its affecting me more because of the pregnant women I see every week at church. Hence, the need for an Invisibility Cloak. I'm happy for them, don't get me wrong. I truly am happy for them. Its not their fault I can't get pregnant.

I just wonder when will it ever be my turn. When am I going to be a mom? Will I ever get the opportunity? Am I meant to be one? Or is this adoption just something that we are supposed to do as part of our journey like with the IF treatments? IF treatments didn't result in a child for us, and I don't know if this adoption will either. I hope it will, but I don't know if it will.

And the thing is, the ache will still be there once their babies come and I'll still be waiting...

So Harry Potter, Happy Birthday. And if you aren't using your Invisibility Cloak on an Auror mission, I'd really like to borrow it.

Why I Had Kept My Infertility a Secret

At first it wasn't intentional. We were excited that we had finally made the decision to try for a baby, but since nothing had happened yet, it wasn't worth sharing with people.

Time had passed, a year, maybe three and the exhilaration of trying to make a baby had become excruciatingly painful as each month passed and nothing. Nothing to show for our efforts but resentment as we had become aware that biology had failed us. Three years had passed and not one positive test. It was clear we had a problem, but who wants to admit to people, much less themselves, that they are having trouble getting pregnant? We sure didn't.

People began to think, as we reached the fifth year mark in our marriage, that we needed them to remind us that it was time for us to start making a family. Little did they know that we had been trying to start one for three years. It was these people that told us to "just relax", "don't think about it", "have some wine" It was then that we realized we didn't need the added grief, we didn't yet even have a diagnosis. No, best to keep this to ourselves. It was none of their business anyways.

A few people knew of our infertility struggles, our parents and our best friends. We had felt that was enough people to share our secret with. Because that's what it was...a secret. And keeping secrets takes a lot of work.

I know for me there was a shame factor involved in keeping our infertility to myself. I was ashamed that I was different from the rest of my friends. I was ashamed that my body couldn't or wouldn't do what it was supposed to do. So I kept that shame to myself.

There was also pain that accompanied the shame. A pain my friends couldn't understand because I wouldn't share it with them assuming they wouldn't be able to understand. Horrible logic, but it was mine. I didn't want to subject them to my pain either so if they asked, I told them. If they didn't, I once again kept the pain and the shame of my secret to myself.

I often found that when a person doesn't know what to say when they hear you are having trouble conceiving a child they usually say the wrong thing or worse give you a useless platitude that is about as useful as a chocolate teapot.

Then the ectopic happened, and it was a bit harder to keep our secret from people as I ended up in the ER and then rushed into emergency surgery. Our "just an ovulation problem" was made more complicated with the removal of my right tube. But still I didn't talk about it.

I realized in hindsight that it would have benefited me to be a bit more honest with people. But considering how emotionally fragile I was in regards to my IF and the trauma of the ectopic, it was less painful to keep quiet rather then open myself up to horrible comments and advice.

I didn't even tell people I would soon face my fears and learn how to give myself shots for our next phase of treatment: injections.

I didn't want to say anything to anyone until I saw a positive pregnancy test, or held my baby in my arms.

When our last IUI resulted in a chemical pregnancy it also marked the end of us seeking further IF treatment and activly trying to have a child of our own. It was then that we realized that we could no longer keep our IF a secret. It was a heartbreaking time for both of us and we needed the support of others.

I only just started sharing our story. Its been a scary and yet helpful process. It hasn't been easy opening myself up to people, but I no longer carry the burden of my secret on my shoulders.

I've also learned that not everyone deserves to hear our story in detail as I still run into people who think its a wonderful joke calling me a D.I.N.K or a 'Woman of Leisure' because we don't yet have children. Or assume that because I've been married 9 years and don't yet have children, means that I don't want children. That is probably the worst obstacle I've run into lately, assumptions, but best save that for a different post.

I'm no longer ashamed of my IF, because I've come to the conclusion that its a part of who I am, not what I am. IF still sucks, that hasn't changed, but its shaped me into the person that I am and I'm not going to hide who I am anymore.

I spent 6 1/2 years hiding and keeping secrets and I'm tired.