It wasn’t long ago that I devoured those stories. I feasted on the potential that the next study would provide the miraculous formula necessary to get me knocked up. I even subscribed to ob/gyn journals to see if I could match my RE scientific jargon for scientific jargon. I was practically a walking encyclopedia of reproductive knowledge.
That’s not true today. I canceled my subscriptions after the last BFN. Getting those headlines in my inbox was far too painful a reminder of those heady days when I thought I could get the upper hand biologically if I just knew more. Today when random fertility-related headlines show up in the news, I approach those same types of stories with a certain amount of trepidation. Sometimes, depending on my mood, I’ll avoid them altogether.
I know there will likely come a day when promise becomes a breakthrough occurs on the fertility front. The promises associated with freezing eggs, for instance, gets more real all the time. And I also know that it will be too late for me. (Cue the violins…)
I bring this up because I’ve often wondered how women who experienced infertility issues in their prime-time mommy years in, say, the 1950s, 1960s or even 1970s perceived IUIs and IVFs when they came screaming on the scene to jump start conception and pregnancy. How did it feel for them to see their sisters succeed where they didn’t, after their window of opportunity had closed? Envy certainly, but to know that if the development had just come earlier they might have succeeded themselves. That’s got to be hard. Reaching for an analogy, it might be like the last person to be diagnosed with polio just weeks before the vaccine became available…
Yeah, you could argue I’ve let my mind wander too far astray. Why worry about something that hasn’t happened yet? ‘Cause that’s what I do!
P.S. Apropos of nothing. I’m making peace with Cheerios. Yes. There was a period there when the little beige Os conjured up only images of chubby-cheeked toddlers happily munching away. They, along with a few other things, were banned or expunged from the house in the early post-BFN days. No longer. Now I enjoy them again for breakfast (and you can be certain I don’t leave a trail of Os behind me).