Pondering post infertility

Today a friend of mine posted an ultrasound picture on Facebook and gaily announced to the world that their baby would be born next February. 

I already knew she was pregnant because I was one of the first people she told. We’d discussed pregnancy and whether she should start trying, and how she was going to persuade her boyfriend to try, and figuring out ovulation and so on. I told her about our experience and encouraged her to come off the pill and try sooner rather than later, if she could get her boyfriend to agree. 

I guess he agreed because a few short months later, they’re pregnant. I was kind of surprised by how little time it took, because in infertility-land you get used to talking in years rather than months. She told me how many months it took: three. 

Three months! Straight off the pill and up the duff!

Now, I am okay, but a couple of years ago this would have floored me. Why is it always someone else who just has to come off the pill a couple of months and get pregnant?! 

I really do feel happy and thankful for my life now. I feel (secularly!) blessed. But I have to confess I had a slight twinge of… something… when she told me she was pregnant. I don’t know what it is… It’s a sort of wistful, “Oh, to be that innocent!” The way they posted it all over Facebook without any worries they might lose the baby. The way they got pregnant so easily having barely tried. I guess I just feel wistful that I never got to have that innocence and that straightforward expectation that nothing would go wrong, that we’d just try and it would happen. 

Three months!

My infertility was measured more in decades. One and a half, more or less. 

What do you call yourself when you were previously infertile but by some (secular) miracles and scientific interventions you managed to have a baby?

I’m a mother. But I’m not a normal mother. I’m a pinch-myself-daily-because-I-can’t-believe-I-actually-had-a-baby mother. I’m a Thank You Science mother. I’m a “If you think you might have issues getting pregnant you really should try straight away and let me know if you want to know anything about endometriosis, IVF or immune therapy” mother. 

I’ll never have that whole will we, won’t we have another one dilemma. We are over the moon with our lovely One and Only. 

I’ll never innocently post early scans on Facebook for people to guess whether it’s a boy or a girl or who the baby looks like. Nobody knew about our pregnancy who didn’t see me in real life. There are still people who don’t know!

I had a twinge of something, a remembrance of loss of innocence, and I’m happy for my friends and I’m happy for us because we are so lucky to have B, but I had a twinge because I remember what it was like to be there, and I’m thinking of all of the people still in the trenches, or those who have had to walk away from the dream of being parents… and I’m sad for them. 

So – mothers after infertility. Mothers after loss. I don’t think infertility ever leaves you. I don’t think loss ever leaves you. But we know desperately how lucky we are. 



  1. MaraExploresJapan

    It feels like a punch to the gut when I see those scans, then to hear “only three months”. I can’t help but wonder how is it so easy for some people?

    Then again, perhaps we all have something that came easy to us and yet feels insurmountable to others.

    Still… three months?!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Nara

      I know. We all have our things. But three months! I also feel a bit… something… as she is a fair amount larger than I am and I was told (at an average / petite size) to lose weight to maximise my chances of getting pregnant! It’s annoying (not her fault) because I think infertile people are made to feel like it’s somehow our fault when it’s most likely nothing to do with weight and more to do with genetics.

      Liked by 1 person

      • MaraExploresJapan

        Three months is so short.

        It’s not just genetics, but sometimes feeling bad for our lifestyle choices, as if we’d done this and that the outcome would be different.

        Why is it we can do our yoga, eat our healthy foods, diet, and all that jazz and still not get pregnant?

        Meanwhile a 400 lbs meth addict whose diet subsists of potato chips dipped in lard can fall pregnant like that?

        Like… wth?!

        Liked by 2 people

  2. Rach @ Stories for Strength

    It never leaves. Because of our diagnosis I do feel like that maybe we could get lucky enough to have another so we have been considering that but damn it has taken me to a dark place this past week. It is almost crippling thinking about entering that space again. Bless the lucky ones. I wouldn’t wish this on them for anything. It’s awful.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. MrsD

    Couldn’t have said it better myself! I’m grateful to have my amazing daughter, but I still get a little twinge of jealousy and sadness when I see someone’s pregnancy announcement*, especially when I know they barely even had to try. I’ve long ago stopped allowing myself to feel guilty over those feelings, too. The pain of infertility and pregnancy loss never goes away, even after you have a healthy baby.

    *The only exception is when I know someone has had fertility issues or losses- in that case I am over the moon excited for them.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. stealingnectar

    All of this is SO true. Well written, my friend! We are the mothers who will never take this holiness for granted. I still get that feeling you describe, too. Just kind of a “Oh, I guess it is that straightforward for some…” Great post.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. RJ

    Very well written. I still struggle with those who just have no problems. Obviously I would not wish issues on anyone but it’s so hard to see others get something so easily that you struggled to get.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Monica

    Yep, I totally get this. This morning I caught up with a friend who has a daughter 2 weeks younger than AQ, and she mentioned wanting to go back to work for a couple days a week ‘because soon we will have another one and then I’ll stay home.’ The absolute certainty with which she said it took me aback and definitely gave me a twinge of the old ‘happy for you, sad for me’ infertile ickiness. I’m not surprised though – these feelings were so embedded in our psyche for so long I feel like it will take them a long time to dissipate, if they ever do. Now I’m wondering if she may in fact already be pregnant but not feel comfortable about announcing it yet. 😒

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Disorderly Love

    Ya know…I’ve been meaning to get around to post a similar post…it still bothers me when people message me asking about my infertility & then get pregnant 3 months later. Like….it took me literal years for this to happen sooooo your few months of, “struggle,” isn’t really the same? lol

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Borntobe

    It’s something I don’t think you can ever get used to. My brother and girlfriend fell literally the same month she came off the pill. Silly me telling her not to worry and that it can take a little time for your period to regulate. All the while she had a picture of her positive pregnancy test on her phone. This was a lovely written post.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Nara

      Thank you for commenting! I am not blogging so much any more (not sure why… I have loads in my head!) so it’s nice to hear from people when I do!


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