My husband and I
went to watch the Disney movie Brave. The story triggered a moment of grief.
When I saw the mom defend her daughter no matter the cost, even at the risk of
her own death, I had this sudden realization. I would never get the chance to
prove that kind of love for my own birth child. Why can’t I have that chance? I
would willingly sacrifice myself for my own children. I would fight, kill, and
use the last breath in my body to make sure they are safe. The sorrow is so
profound at those moments. One more thing about being childless that limits my
world experience. The question here is not about whether I can have children by
means other than through my own body. It is about mourning the possibilities,
the future that held my birth children in it, the future that says I will
sacrifice everything for them. I cannot conceive. In the car on the way home,
as I'm silently crying my heart out, I thought," Did I really do
everything in my power to conceive and carry my child?"
I chose to stop
after 2 years of fertility treatments. That is not a long time compared to
some. We chose to stop with IUI, artificial insemination, instead of continuing
on with IVF, in vitro insemination. It was extremely scary for us to make such
a decision. I had desperate moments where I even considered moving to a state
that requires health insurance to cover IVF. I thought about weight loss
options that I NEVER considered to be healthy options. The truth I took so
long to process is that I was compromising my own ethics and morals. In fact, I
was already uncomfortable with the amount of resources I spent trying to force
my body to do something it did not want or was not able to do. It’s not about God’s will or fate or destiny.
It is about the simple fact my body can’t do something.
I do have choices
and options, many more than the majority of people suffering with infertility. Am I cheating the
lives of my future children by not pursuing these options regardless the
consequences? The decision I made for myself, the choice my husband and I chose
for our family, is that not only am I not cheating them, I am choosing to
protect them. The drugs and procedures I used on my body have consequences on
my own body. Besides the risks involved in prolonged fertility treatments,
there is also the issue of my overall health affecting my pregnancy and the
health of my child. Granted, all the potential issues I
may have can be managed well most of time with advances in science. However,
NOTHING about my situation is "most of the time." I no longer assume the statistics are in my
favor.
So, while I started
out tearing up my soul with thoughts I didn't do enough, I eventually came to
the conclusion that I committed the ultimate sacrifice a future mother can
make… I chose to stop. The genetic makeup of my children is not significant
enough of an issue to torture my body, risk the future health of me, my
children, and our family. I realized that I did limitless amounts of research,
that I spoke with at least a dozen health professionals, addressed every
obstacle and health issue that blocked our road ( and what a relief to
finally KNOW and be able to treat what
chronic illnesses I have), I went to counselors, specialists, dieticians. I
realized that I did do everything in my
power to conceive and give all that I had to those future children. And when
faced with a choice of how far I would go, out of love, I chose to let go.
Bravery isn't just
about facing an obstacle and conquering it. Sometimes bravery is about choosing
another path. Sacrifice isn't just for something
or someone you already have in your life, but sometimes, it is for
something or someone you may never meet.
So, thank you, Disney, for helping me realize that I'm not a coward,
that I'm not weak, and that I chose a path that causes me more immediate pain,
but has great potential for a wonderful future.
My ruminations did
not end there, however. But, enough writing for now.
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