I remember sitting at my favorite Starbucks exactly one year ago, watching for whales in the ocean while attempting to catch up on charts. I was recovering from an awful virus that left me with fever and bedridden for days, and feeling drained. Not just from the sickness, but from the constant empty feeling inside. At that time, I was still hopefully testing as early as 10 days after ovulation, even though it was slowly starting to dawn on me that perhaps we were in that not-so-small but secretive part of the population struggling with infertility. I had kept a blog many years ago, long before the days of Facebook, but residency then my real job took over, and I found after writing so much about other people’s ailments, my own complaints paled in comparison. Until that day, as I looked around me at the families enjoying the view. I remember blinking back tears as I typed “Plans were made to be broken”… and thus this blog was born.
One of my vices is chick lit. It is crazy that after all these years of education and hard work, I still turn to these books, when I really should be doing things like laundry, or even learning to cook, but they’re my means of escape. I’d borrowed What Alice Forgot from the library a few weeks ago, and realizing the due date was coming up fast, I started it yesterday while waiting for my IUI. I had no idea what I was in for, since infertility isn’t mentioned in the description. I think anybody who has experienced infertility and miscarriage should read it when they feel like they can face honest writing about all those ugly feelings inside. I identified so much with how the author wrote this character, that I could not put the book down until I finished it today. Curious to see if the author might have personal experience with infertility, I Googled and discovered this little gem: The Childless Side of the Room by Liane Moriarty.
the hopeful worrywart 