Infertiles Anonymous

Next week I have the privilege to spend time with Angie* as she prepares for and gives birth to her baby boy who seems bound and determined to make his appearance any day now. Though it may seem odd to the majority of the population that Angie would want me to be anywhere near her when she gives birth to her son (because of the emotions it may stir up) she and I wouldn't have it any other way. We are thick as thieves. Bonded for life. We have shared many good laughs about how weird our relationship must seem to those outside of it. From the inside, though, it feels like it was meant to be. Like that comfortable pair of shoes you've had since High School with your exact footprints molded in. But that is a subject for an entirely different post. This post is about my thoughts as I prepare to drive 10 hours into the land of fertility.

The land of fertility is the mid-sized town in Montana, where Angie lives. Much of my husband's large family lives in the same town. I am ecstatic to see my in-laws as I was extremely blessed with the family I married into. They are hilarious, lots of fun, and health nuts just like me. I wouldn't be raw if it weren't for my mother and father-in-law! However, visiting Montana brings with it quite a bit of anxiety because I will be spending the majority of my time with new and expecting mothers (hence "the land of fertility" title I've given the town). To be completely honest, I usually avoid new and expecting mothers like the plague. I'm not mature enough to be in their presence without lamenting my own conception woes until I eventually burst into tears. But they are my family. I love them. And I can't keep avoiding them.

Luckily, somewhere mid panic attack I thought that perhaps I need to be working on my own 12 Step Recovery Plan and decided to modify the 12 Steps of the Alcoholics Anonymous Program to fit my program (oh, so creatively) called Infertiles Anonymous:

1. I admit that I am powerless over my fertility—that I've allowed it to let my life become unmanageable.

2. I believe that a Power greater than myself can restore me to sanity.

3. I have made a decision to turn my will and my life over to the care of God as I understand Him.

4. I have made a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself.

5. I have admitted to God, to myself, and to another human being the exact nature of my wrongs.

6. I am entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

7. I have humbly asked Him to remove my shortcomings.

8. I have made a list of all persons I have harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.

9. I have made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

10. I have continued to take personal inventory and when I am wrong promptly admitted it.

11. I have sought through prayer and meditation to improve my conscious contact with God, as I understand Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for me and the power to carry that out.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, I will carry this message to other hurting infertile women and men, and to practice these principles in all my affairs.

 

It made me laugh and cry when I realized how meaningful these steps were to me. I've read and heard in many places that the psychological effects of infertility are on par with those of being diagnosed with a terminal disease. Some people in life are so good at bearing their crosses and making the best of it. By nature, I am not one of those people, though I have always wanted to be. Hopefully this is a good place to start. And I really mean START! I'm not even sure I can say I've completed the first step. But I will continue to write about my process and let you know how it goes.

* For those who don't know, Angie is my son's first mom.