WordsWednesday (and a little more)

“I turned silences and nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling world stand still.” –A. Rimbaud

It was my older sister who convinced me to start this blog, I would send her long-winded emails about our infertility, she would call me and through laughter or tears tell me I needed to share our story with others. I have found a great deal of comfort in writing this experience down. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again- this last year has been the most difficult year of our life and somehow sharing our struggles and sadness with family, friends and the random bloggers on WordPress who stumbled across GirlWithAGoldDress has brought me peace, happiness and strength.

With that being said, I’ve decided to stop writing for a while. Dan and I have made the decision to not share our transfer date with anyone and so it will be impossible to write about our experiences over the next few months. I know some people feel comfortable sharing all the details of their infertility and IVF experience with the world, but I am not one of those people. In truth, this is still an extremely private and personal experience for Dan and me, regardless of how open it may seem I have been thus far.

I appreciate all the kind words I’ve received, it has meant so much to me to have people read my words and express how they have touched them. I have grown closer to so many people in my life because of my willingness to share this experience with them and for that I am immensely grateful.

So feel free to send prayers, positive vibes, wishes and happy thoughts our way. We’ll appreciate them all.

…Here’s to hoping for a future filled with lots of gold dresses.




“Be patient and tough. Someday this pain will be useful to you.” C. Ahern

Acceptance is a small, quiet room.

I was sitting down for my small cup of half caff coffee the other morning (Yes, I former night nurse, lover of caffeine, have officially cut down my caffeine intake to exactly one small half decaf/half regular coffee a day…miracles do happen) and sitting at my kitchen counter I realized I didn’t feel anxious… I didn’t feel sad….I didn’t feel excited. I felt, very simply, content. Now content is not an emotion I am accustomed to… I am an emotional person…for the first 27 years of my life I was probably considered overly sensitive by every member of my family, but one small perk of infertility is people do not judge your mood swings and emotions. (Well that’s a lie…I’m sure my sisters still judge me, but they’re smart enough to keep their opinions to themselves.) So while I am very use to feeling overwhelming sad and unimaginably happy … content is not an emotion I know well, but I recognized it as I sat there and it made me aware of something else entirely… I have truly accepted that this is my life.
There is a Cheryl Strayed quote that reads “Most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. Sometimes you’ll put up a good fight and lose. Sometimes you’ll hold on really hard and realize there is no choice but to let go. Acceptance is a small, quiet room.” (Bonus non-Wednesday words) I love those words, I have found comfort in those words and while my husband tells me they’re depressing I have found them inspiring. I’m not saying I’m going to lose this fight. I’m not saying I’m letting go of my dreams… but I am accepting that my life has not gone the way I planned…and that’s okay.
Dan and I have one embryo to transfer. I pray the transfer is successful. I pray this summer I’ll be happily wearing my gold dress around and showing off a baby bump. I pray everything we have sacrificed for the opportunity to have a healthy child will have been worth it. But I have accepted that it may not.
I like to say Dan and I chose to do IVF, but truthfully we did not.
Dan and I chose to marry each other. We chose to live in my hometown. We chose our careers. We chose to buy a midsize SUV.
We chose to want a family.
But the rest of it… we did not choose… we accepted.
We accepted endometriosis. We accepted infertility. We accepted SMA. We accepted IVF. We accepted one warrior embryo. (We also love that one little embryo!)
And we continue, every day, to accept our life.
Acceptance doesn’t mean we don’t have regrets. Acceptance doesn’t mean we don’t wish on shooting stars, railroad tracks and birthday candles that life was different. Acceptance doesn’t mean we don’t get sad in the baby aisle at Target. Acceptance doesn’t mean we don’t long for sleepless nights and a house cluttered with baby toys. Acceptance doesn’t mean we don’t wish for more.
Acceptance means we accept what is. Acceptance means I’m content over my morning coffee. Acceptance is wanting nothing more in the world than our transfer to work… and acceptance is knowing that at the end of this journey, after our transfer, when the blood is drawn, and the nurse calls with our pregnancy test results that we’ll survive… regardless of them being positive or negative.
Acceptance is a small quiet room…or enjoying a small cup of coffee, in a brightly lit kitchen and the feeling that everything will be okay.


“The good times and bad times both will pass. It will pass. It will get easier. But the fact that it will get easier does not mean that it doesn’t hurt now. And when people try to minimize your pain they are doing you a disservice. And when you try to minimize your own pain you’re doing yourself a disservice. Don’t do that. The truth is that it hurts because it’s real. It hurts because it mattered. And that’s an important thing to acknowledge to yourself. But that doesn’t mean that it won’t end, that it won’t get better. Because it will.” –J. Green