When you are trying to bring a baby into the world, and things go awry in a rare and unusual fashion, doctors sometimes like to say you've been struck by lightening. My first OB used those words. I have spoken with other women online whose pitfalls in baby-making led to their hearing that poetic turn of phrase out of the mouths of their doctors. My turns of phrase are not quite as poetic.
But you see, it's not an apt comparison, because not everyone will actually survive a lightening strike. If I've learned anything in my reproductive "misadventures," it's that the women who suffer very real physical and emotional effects of miscarriage and infertility - particularly the rare and unusual kinds - are SURVIVORS in the truest sense of the word.
This blog is my attempt to capture my rare and unusual experiences in baby-making in prose, and perhaps find some meaning in them. Or at least put them into words so that I don't lose my mind. Maybe I will be a beacon out there for another lost soul dealing with similar experiences. Maybe I'll have some useful tidbits information for the woman yawning on Dr. Google at 2am. Maybe my thoughts will resonate with a woman who is searching the interwebs for another foul-mouthed voice in the wilderness she can relate to. Because I have been struck by lightening. More than once. Statistically speaking, even as a woman in her late thirties, I am a walking example of how when things go wrong in the world of fertility, they can go REALLY wrong.
But while I am not a religious woman, I also count my blessings. Unlike many of the women I have met dealing with the world of reproductive disasters, the forces of the universe were awesome enough to allow me to bring a child into the world. An amazing, stunning, bright and healthy daughter. My niblet.
This is the blog of a chick who has survived who wants just one more.