I’m nervous. Really scared, actually. Starting this blog is going to expose something I’ve been hiding from almost everyone. Why? Stigma. Not only am I going to reveal my dirty little secret, but I’m also opening the door on my shame—or even worse—pity. I don’t want pity. I think that’s why women like me keep it a secret. We don’t want pity. We’re also ashamed. So, we hide, we isolate, we grieve, and we feel alone. Why? Because no one ever talks about it. No one talks about when IVF fails, and you give up your dream of having a child.
My story started 20 years ago. At least, that’s when I say it started. Actually, it began 23 years ago. The point is, I’ve tried almost everything to have a child. First, I begged my ex-husband to allow me the “opportunity” to have a child. We ended up divorcing because he wouldn’t allow it (more on that later). Then, six years later, I started IVF with my second husband. I did six procedures in total. I began with IUI. I did IVF with my own eggs twice, then with donor eggs from Greece three times. I was pregnant once on my first try with donor eggs, but I miscarried three weeks later. I also had a chemical pregnancy. And on the last try, there was nothing.
After that, we moved on to adoption. We tried to adopt from Lebanon. It was a daunting task because Lebanon wasn’t part of The Hague Convention. But we thought we found a way. Eventually, that didn’t work out (more on that later). Finally, we started fostering. We fostered two sets of children, but gave up after heartache, struggles with the foster care system, and general weariness. My husband would have continued, but I stopped. It’s been about six months. And now, here I am—starting a blog to heal.
That’s my dirty little secret—exposed.
