No, this isn't a post about being uber-rich in today's society...
Some of you know, and some of you may not know, the last two months have been really challenging for me. We’ve been trying to have a baby since Chad and I got married, and we obviously have not been blessed with a child or else you would have received an announcement. Just two weeks ago, I found out that I – age 38 – apparently have the ovaries of a 50 year old woman, which puts the likelihood that I will get pregnant at about a whopping 1% (or 2% if you want to be optimistic). No, I’m not suffering from early menopause (although people at work who have been the victims of my moodiness lately may disagree), but rather something called diminished ovarian reserve (DOR). In layman’s terms, I have a very low supply of eggs in my ovaries that are available to be fertilized.
It seems unfair that women are born with all of the eggs that they are ever going to have, but men continue to make sperm until they die. But, as we all know, this is only one example of the many ways in which women carry a greater burden than men when it comes to pregnancy. I can’t make any more eggs—no amount of hormones will do that. All I can hope for is that I can inject enough hormones to stimulate my ovaries to release the few remaining eggs that I have left, and maybe—just maybe—get those eggs fertilized and become pregnant. But again, the odds that I’ll get pregnant are about the same as riding in plane that is being flown by a drunk pilot (don’t you just love the internet all the information you can learn from it??)
Even after having cried about this for many days and nights, I still have not come to terms with the fact that I may not be able to give my wonderful husband a child of his own, or a sibling to my loving daughter. I so desperately want to have another child. Am I crazy for holding onto a little bit of hope? Praying for a miracle to happen? Making promises to God that if I could just get pregnant, I will do x, y, or z? Nothing seems to take away the hurt. I just want to add one more leaf to my family tree. Is that too much to ask?
My emotions sway easily between sadness, anger, appreciation, and determination. Sadness that I have been given this diagnosis. Anger that Snooki can get pregnant and not me. Appreciation for the loving husband and amazing child that I have in my life, and for the love and support of my family and friends. And determination that I will not become hopeless.
So, I will continue on this path, and pray that the odds will work in my favor—that is, the odds of getting of pregnant, and not the drunken pilot scenario.
