I was ready to fall into bed. Just 10 more minutes to read my 2 year old bedtime story, and it will light up.
He had other plans.
I told her I was going to run downstairs to find her favorite stuffed animal. As I quickly looked back, he made a weird face that looked like it was slowing down. The next thing I knew was he was vomiting.
Well, my night was over there.
My husband and I hovered over it for the next 10 hours as we constantly changed sheets and pajamas and gave him an electrolyte drink through a syringe to avoid dehydration.
Two days later, my 4-year-old child and I both contracted the virus in his stomach and we were down to count.
As strange as it may sound, and as tired as I am writing this (because as you already know, It’s hard to sleep in our house.
This is the scene I prayed for. Not to clean up the mess, but the beautiful chaos in which I now live. And I can’t imagine life without it.
I cried so much to fill a well when I found out. My husband had male infertility.
And I had less stock of ovaries. The waiting rooms at the Fertility Clinic with sad faces ate my morning for almost two years.
Filled with hormones, and on the brink of failed intrauterine insemination efforts and marriage, we finally became parents in 2017 thanks to in vitro fertilization, commonly referred to as IVF. Our own biological children.
A difficult road that many people share.
When my husband and I Went to the masses with our struggle for fertility.
With the announcement of our pregnancy on Christmas Day 2018, we have received countless messages from friends and strangers around the world who share their journey. Infertility felt like a dirty little secret to us and to others, and we realized we didn’t need it. My husband and I decided at that moment that we would keep talking and be clear about what we were going through, and that it was getting free. Over the last four years, we’ve done countless podcasts, written numerous articles, and appeared on panels.
To draw attention to male infertility, my husband started a fundraiser. Run for a chance
In 2021. She traveled 50 miles in Westchester County, New York, and raised more than $ 80,000 for fertility treatment for individuals at the Ronald O’Parelman and Claudia Cohen Center for Reproductive Medicine of Val Cornell Medicine, where we She had to go through IVF to give birth to her children. .
Fundraising has been important in the United States since the days of IVF. Can cost upwards of $ 12,000.
– Medications are not included, according to the University of Iowa State Family Children’s Hospital.
in the United States, Only 19 states
According to the National Infertility Association Resolution, infertility requires a certain level of insurance coverage. This means that in the other 31 states, insurance companies in the fully insured market (when a company buys a plan from a commercial insurance carrier) are not required to offer fertility benefits.
Find your determination for a difficult battle.
I fully understand – logistical barriers sometimes seem insurmountable. But in response to a question I get almost weekly from people struggling to make a family, I always give the same answer: don’t give up.
I wasn’t happy with my first fertility clinic, so I found my way. Dr. David Reachman
At Val Cornell Medical College. I always tell people to advocate for themselves – and if something doesn’t feel right, find something that does.
But it did not improve immediately. Until we had the first successful round of IVF, two years after the procedure, I felt sick at every baby shower invitation. I also found running work devastating because every pregnant woman makes me sick with jealousy. Even though I felt broken, I didn’t let it break. I would wake up every morning and make a conscious effort to come up with a new plan whenever things didn’t go our way.
I wish I knew the places that would give me a sense of community in this difficult time of my life. Now I belong to organizations like this. Solve: National Infertility Association
Which provide state-by-state guidance and support groups.
I know that all travel does not result in a child, and they do not result in a child you give birth to yourself. But I hope you find the answer that is right for you, whether it is adoption, surrogacy, or the donation of eggs or sperm. You never know what’s going to happen, but if you don’t try you won’t know. I know it’s painful, and sometimes you don’t even want to get out of bed. But please, get up, stay strong and try to find the right options for you.
I think back to those two years of struggling to get pregnant, and I remember sometimes cleaning up after my sweet and cheerful and occasional vomiting sons to see how much I wanted to be their mother. Be thankful