“Never give up!”
“Don’t stop the fight!”
“If you’re done trying, are you going to adopt?”
“When are you starting treatment again?”
How about never…
What happens when you’re just tired? Tired of fighting. Tired of waiting. Tired of hoping. Tired of disappointment. What happens when you’ve reached the max number of years you’re willing to hold on to the wait for babies?
You rest. You stop and you rest.
There is this assumption that if you stop TTC, stop collecting baby stuff, sell your baby stuff, and stop medical intervention, you’re a quitter. The thing about infertility is no two journeys are the same. Fill a room with infertile women and every story will be different, every protocol will be different, and every treatment combo that works will be different. We all have this connection and yet we’re all so different.
Some women have waited longer than me, yet their hope and belief in babies to come is on fire and stronger than ever before. I think that’s wonderful! I wish I had that same fire, but the truth is, I just don’t. And I do realize that had some women stopped sooner, they wouldn’t have ever had their miracle babies. Trust me, I get that, and I am so glad they pushed through and got to experience their miracles!
But it doesn’t mean their story is going to be my story, and it doesn’t mean I have to continue exhausting myself with wondering, waiting, and begging God for more babies that may not ever come.
My decision to stop and rest is not a reflection of what I think of others who persevere. It’s also NOT a reflection of my faith in God.
My mind is simply shifting.
Shifting from “I want to get pregnant and grow my family” to “let’s just manage my PCOS so I can live like a healthy woman should.”
I’m not a quitter.
But I am tired.
And I’m allowed to be tired without having to justify it.
I’m done with TTC. I’m done taking tests. I’m done holding onto Zoey’s baby furniture that is taking up space in my home. Unless it’s something that Zoey could actually use herself in the future, it’s going away. And if I’m ever pregnant again, that’s what consignment sales are for.
I’m not saying this is forever. I’m only 33, so I could have a decade (or more!) of childbearing years ahead of me. Plus, there is research suggesting that women with PCOS become more fertile in their 30s. Am I banking on that? No. But it allows me the freedom to do what I need to do right now, which is reclaim my home and restore my heart.