I feel like the product of a bad break up. It’s like I got to this point where me and the embies were about to “move in” and make a life together and something changed. Did my lining get to “cling-y?” Did my hormones demand too much growth? Did they try to change the cells before they were ready? Did I try too hard? Too many meditations? Too many fantasies, i.e. secret Pinterest boards? I know that ultimately, it’s more beneficial to think of them as cells – matter, not lives. But they were life. They were fertilized and they had potential.
In a way, it makes me feel so bad for not trying/making the best of my opportunities earlier in life. What if I were just a cell? Would I have the impetus to keep going? Keep dividing? Keep developing? I guess something had to be there, because here I am….
I often times think If I were in my last moments on earth, would any of my significant accomplishments be worthy of a mention on my headstone? My answer unequivocally would be ‘NO.’ I would not want to be remembered by the accomplishments I achieved, but rather the actions that I took that helped me to develop….while I was living in happiness and through struggle.
So as a macabre/healthy exercise, let’s just look at some of what I would love to be remembered by:
- one who loved with an open heart
- loved her family and was loved by her family
- a true and loyal friend
- lover of animals
- lover of nature
- teacher of teachers
- empathetic entrepreneur
- one who inspired
So back to the break up – I think that this cycle didn’t see my potential. Maybe we weren’t a good match. Maybe didn’t see my worth… Maybe I was hiding all of those things. Maybe I need to advocate for me in my life and not just in the fertility clinic. Maybe all I need is to live as the true Jenna and then my potential will be clear… maybe……
Or maybe it’s just the luck of the draw or maybe there is no reason at all and it just sucks all together. Or maybe after all is said and done, my mothering role will be to help others through this journey. If there is one thing I do know, it’s that support is both there personally and lacking in the larger world at the same time… I hope that some day I will be able to conceive a place that allows those of us struggling with infertility to be able to find help and comfort in a safe place of the arms and words of those who “get it.”
And maybe I’ll forget how much they meant to me,
And how they were almost my babies…