There's a framed photo on the bookcase in my living room. A photo of me with 10 women from my first infertility support group. Since that photo was taken in March of 2014, 24 children have joined their families. Some of the women in the photo would say their families are complete, while others are still working hard to build their families. Many of the women mourn babies who were lost along the way. I'd already lost my twins at that point but was years away from my divorce and a failed adoption.
I stopped hosting a support group several years ago. It was partially because I was exhausted, and partially because of the look of horror that my story registered on the faces of new attendees who heard it. Now, I find myself logging onto Zoom, sharing my story again, with the hopes that I'll find the support I need now.
The thing is, I don't even know what I'm looking for. In a way, I suppose I'm looking for the other 40-something divorced infertile women who still want to parent one day but haven't quite gotten there yet. (If you know where they are, please send them my way.) But, really, I just want to feel better. Feel better after the toll that 12 years of infertility, a miscarriage, a divorce, and a failed adoption take. Not to mention the myriad of ways that infertility impacts my daily life. I've done so much work to combat this but it still creeps up.
I imagine I'm not alone. Whether or not you have kids, infertility doesn't quite ever go away. It's always there, lurking in the shadows. Ready to strike when you least expect it.
So, I'm wondering where you turn for support? Especially those of you who are long-haulers like me. I know you're out there.