When my world came crumbling down
By: B Bolissian
Tags: Journey, Journaling, Infertility, Ivf, Fertility

by Celia Zannon

Journal Log #1 — December 2015

I’m sitting in the doctor’s office by myself and in what seems like slow motion she says “So…with your numbers… it is medically impossible for you to get pregnant naturally, but…you know…Miracles happen…”

I felt a knot on my throat, WHAT?!? You’re giving me a miracle chance?

A 0% possibility plus a “miracle” chance of getting pregnant.

Nooooo, of course not, she’s giving me HOPE.

Because if I decide to do the IVF procedure than my chances are “good” (they are not) and I’ll have my baby (or, you know, NOT).

If when you read “but…miracles happen” you thought “Awe, what a nice, kind doctor”, no, it was delivered with the utmost untrust that a miracle could ever happen and in a very matter of fact way, not the motherly caring way you instinctively heard.

“I know…I’ve been through it”_she says. In a way that was not at all empathetic or acknowledging the shock and disbelief I was battling with.

It was the most painful thing I’ve ever had to hear. How do you go from

“Girls need to be careful AT ALL TIMES!

If a guy so much as looks at you, you WILL get pregnant”

to

“I’m sorry, but…NOPE, NOT HAPPENING, EVER”

It was a slap in the face but it was also a raw realization that I was not as healthy as I looked or felt.

I’ve always been small, skinny and no big health issues. I was raised with homeopathic medicine, I didn’t take rounds and rounds of antibiotics , I grew up on lots of veggies and salads. That all means I have a good immune system, but somewhere along the road something must have gone wrong and my reproductive system is not functioning as it should.

As a woman, you can only imagine how that feels. Being scared your whole life that you might accidentally get pregnant and then when you’re finally ready it doesn’t happen.

The one thing we know (or are taught to believe), as animals, we are born to breed. As humans, we go through life looking for success and society’s approval, the woman raises the family, the man provides. Well, not for us. I can’t raise a family my body refuses to breed, my husband is denied his ‘instinct’ to provide for it.

The pain was unbelievable, almost unbearable at times. Like I was broken, my heart shattered in a million pieces…

My body failed me…

Since that dreadful day at the doctor’s office I’ve come a long way. It was like light was shedded in a part of my life that I couldn’t previously see…

…the feeling of failure, disempowerment, vulnerability, distrust in my own body…

I now have access to those feelings and I feel grateful for the chance to work on all of that.

I now know that suffering can bring about wisdom and purpose. The pain that imobilizes you is the same pain that creates the need to overcome (the famous kick in the butt). And if you allow it space it will help show you a path…

My actions today are little daily efforts to be happy. I believe finding joy amongst the chaos and grief will open doors for that miracle…

The Miracle that sounded cold and unreachable at my doctor’s lips now feels like a world of possibilities in my heart…