This year's National Infertility Awareness Week is making me feel introspective and reflective. It's probably due to my change in circumstances. Baby Boy is napping next to me. He is almost a year old and brings us such joy. He has changed our lives in small and profound ways, and thinking of not having him makes me catch my breath and feel sick. I've always felt like getting to this point was like climbing a huge mountain-uphill journey all the way. Now that I'm at the top, I feel like there is a sheer drop off just on the other side. And that has inspired my What If.
What if I lived in a time when we didn't have this knowledge about fertility and treatment options? What if I lived 100, 50, heck even 10-20 years earlier? I would have had few or no options. If I had lived 100 years ago, Husband and I would be one of those childless couples who know only that they apparently cannot have children. More recently, I might know what our specific problems were but have no treatment options. I feel so fortunate to live in a state and country and age in which there are options. That allowed us to pursue gestational surrogacy and will hopefully allow us to pursue it again in a few years. The thought of being prevented from having my sweet boy due to being born in an earlier age when medical knowledge was lacking and treatment options non-existant sends chills down my spine.
And what if women in the future never had to worry about treatment options because success rates were higher and legislation didn't get in the way of family building? We've come a long way in short period of time, and my hope is that future generations of women can look back at our time and shake their heads, grateful not to be living in such a "primitive" time medically.
That's my What If.
Yesterday I donated my leftover meds to my old clinic. I had hoped to be able to give them to someone who was cycling because blogger Samantha had done the same for me when we were cycling, and I hoped to be able to pay it forward, but I don't know anyone cycling right now. It made me feel good to donate them, though. Hopefully someone will be able to use them.