The beginning of ourfertility journeywas unremarkable in the best way.
The months leading up to our start date were full of excitement.
We collected nursery room images for our Pinterest board and talked about baby names.
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Ever the Enneagram punch in 3, I meticulously followed the advice Id heard.
On the recommendation of a friend, I downloaded an app to track myperiodand ovulation.
I began taking aprenatal vitaminin October and went off birth control in December.
By the time January rolled around, I felt ready.
Trying was fun at first, but it quickly became stressful.
While my husband, known as my polar opposite, was laid-back, I struggled to stay level-headed.
In June, I started to suspect something was seriously wrong.
The good news, however, was that none of them was in a position to make conceiving difficult.
His results came back fine.
Mine, however, were more complicated.
After the dye was released, the provider asked me to rock side-to-side.
I did as was told, though I winced in pain and held back tears.
The provider informed me there hadnt been any spillage, and I asked if that was good or bad.
Its not good, he replied.
Your doctor will take a closer look and call you with your results tomorrow.
(I later learned that this was most likely due to scar tissue from the fibroid surgery.)
I was officially part of the11% of women in the United Stateswho have experienced infertility.
Suffice to say, this is not how my husband and I expected to become parents.
I felt like I was being penalized.
For what, Im not exactly sure, but that didnt ease the sting of my bodys betrayal.
Eventually, I came to terms with our new reality.
Before delving into the logistics of how we would navigate IVF, I fortified my faith.
I devoured daily devotionals and listened to meditations dedicated to fertility.
Even as I began to feel more positive about the road ahead, I craved something more.
Then I rememberedFertility for Colored Girls.
That was back when I never thought Id join the ranks of black women facing infertility.
Once I did, the group became a soft place for me to land.
Racial identity can create a lot of nuances in how someone handles fertility struggles.
We provide education, support, awareness, and encouragement, Edwards-Dunn says.
Our organization is very holistic.
In short, finding the right support is a necessity.
At first I was intimidated by the small, intimate size of the group.
There were only about 12 women in total, and I appeared to be the youngest one.
But my nerves quickly dissipated when a nurse from a local fertility clinic led the first session.
She openly shared her own journey with infertility, along with useful information about navigating treatment.
This wasnt my first experience doing this kind of communal sharing.
Two years earlier Id experienced my first sister circle during a girls trip to Arizona.
The vulnerability in the circle made us more than friends; it solidified a sisterhood.
We cried…a lot.
I left feeling more educated about treatment options and rejuvenated for the long road ahead.
That rejuvenation has stuck with me as I continue to deal with the everyday realities of infertility.
We sat in the waiting room, letting our eyes move around the space.
I realized that we were the only black couple in the room.
The familiar sense of loneliness washed over me until I thought of my fertility support system.
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