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Hey, Who Opened the Door to My Infertility Closet?
Most of us already know that National Infertility Awareness Week is almost upon us. The thing is: When I was going through infertility, I didn't want anyone to know.
So here I am trying to blend, trying to pass as a fertile person, and then this organization comes along with National Infertility Awareness Week. I was like:
"Shhhhhhhh! Will you people lower your voice?!"
I'm hiding in my little foxhole of shame, and they've rallied the other 7.3 million infertile troops to stand up and yell: "Hey! We found her! Over here everybody!"
I didn't know from chat rooms or support groups. I didn't want to share with anybody online.
Maybe that's why I always made my fertility doctor appointments in the wee hours of the early AM. I wanted to sneak in and out of there under the cloak of darkness before the "City that Never Sleeps" woke up.
I was okay to go for the fertility treatments, but once I was flung out of the fertility clinic and back into society, I wanted to just pretend it didn't exist. So this group RESOLVE comes along and tries to blow my cover with their week-long tribute. I thought: "Great, what next?"
We'll be "OUT," and that's it I guess.
My husband and I will have to start wearing tight black leather pants and hang out only at Infertile Clubs. (No music. But oooh the drugs: Follistim, Gonal-F, Clomid, Lupron.)
There might even be wild orgies in the back room: My husband, me and a calendar.
We'll start going to a gym where 90 percent of the clientele is infertile ... Just to check them out:
"Oh look at her prancing around in her leotard. She thinks she's something special because they took 20 eggs out of her at her retrieval."
There would be jealousy in our community: "Aw, her butt is so much nicer than mine. I bet her husband doesn't whine about giving her the shots every night."
We'd naturally have our own parade on Fifth Avenue during National Infertility Awareness Week.
Our parade colors would be shades of gray and black.
We'd have our very own chant: "Free IVF!" "Free IVF!" (Of course we'd probably have to stop along the parade route several times to explain to people that "IVF" is indeed a treatment and not a political prisoner.)
I would like to be the Queen of the Parade ... or at the very least: "The Baroness of Barreness".