In the quest for a second child, I find myself making the difficult decision to return to birth control. My partner, Jason, and I have faced the challenges of secondary infertility for a couple of years now. Two years might seem like a fleeting moment in time, but it’s an eternity when you’re caught in a cycle of tracking ovulation, timing intimacy, and hoping for those two pink lines on a test. Ultimately, we’ve reached a point where we need to pause.
Expressing why we’ve decided to stop trying is not straightforward. I often hear comments like, “Perhaps if you stop stressing about it, you might conceive!” or “You just need to relax!” While I understand these sentiments, they don’t resonate with me. Many couples do find success when they take a step back, but that approach doesn’t work for everyone. The hope of conceiving lingers in my mind, and I know that if there’s even the slightest chance of pregnancy, I’ll remain in a state of emotional turmoil as each month passes.
With a heavy heart, I approached my doctor and tearfully requested birth control. Yes, I want another baby—more than anything. However, my spirit is weary. My doctor presented a few medications that could potentially help, and I felt a glimmer of hope. Then she mentioned the possibility of consulting a fertility clinic about IVF. I found myself hopeful yet again.
Her understanding and compassion were evident, and she expressed her desire to prescribe me prenatal vitamins instead of the pill. I share that wish; I wish things were different. I doubt I’ll ever fully reconcile with this situation, but I recognize that starting birth control is a necessary step in our journey.
Infertility has impacted every facet of my life, eroding my self-esteem and leaving me feeling betrayed by my body. It has dimmed my joy and created an oppressive weight on my heart. At the same time, I grapple with the fear of closing the door on this chapter. I worry that years from now, I might regret not pursuing every possible avenue for expanding our family. I fear that my daughter, who longs for a sibling, may feel incomplete without one. She doesn’t fully grasp the situation yet, but we remind her that families come in all shapes and sizes. Nevertheless, I can’t help but worry about her feelings. She is my everything, my miracle.
The isolation that accompanies infertility can be overwhelming. I often felt that no one could comprehend what I was experiencing. As a mother, it can be particularly difficult to explain why I feel this way—after all, shouldn’t I be grateful for the child I already have? Although I feel trepidation, I am committed to moving forward beyond the helplessness of infertility. I am ready to set my sights on new dreams.
This transition is far from easy. Acceptance is a work in progress, and I’m unsure if it’s even attainable. However, part of my healing involves eliminating the possibility of pregnancy; it may sound odd, but if there’s still hope for a baby, my thoughts will remain entangled in the “what ifs” of each month. Birth control is essential for my healing and my ability to let go. Still, it feels like a challenging pill to swallow—both literally and figuratively.
I don’t have any sage advice to share. I’m simply navigating this one day at a time. I’m not seeking a silver lining because, for me, there isn’t one. I don’t believe everything happens for a reason. Life can throw some truly difficult challenges our way, testing our resolve.
However, I strive to embrace my feelings. Sharing such a personal aspect of my life isn’t something I typically do, but I felt compelled to open up. I recognize that many women have rallied around me during this time, and I am grateful for their support.
I came across a powerful quote by Alex Elle that resonates deeply: “Acknowledge your pain. Let it surface and spill over. Give it permission to make an uncomfortable mess. Healing can happen this way and so can emotional freedom. Face it all. Free it, too.”
This journey may not have the ending I had hoped for, but I will continue to navigate it with honesty and vulnerability. If you’re interested in exploring options like at-home insemination, check out this helpful resource. Additionally, for those considering IVF or fertility preservation, this link offers excellent insights.
Summary
This article explores the emotional complexities of choosing birth control while longing for another child amidst the challenges of secondary infertility. The author shares her journey of navigating hope, disappointment, and acceptance while focusing on healing and new dreams.