There was a time when I was romanced by the illusion that once I was pregnant, the haunting memories of our battle with infertility would quietly and peacefully fade into the background of my consciousness. And then I got pregnant. It took me the completion of two full trimesters to say "when the baby comes" instead of "if the baby comes." It took me 28 weeks to walk past the nursery we were (very) slowly assembling without reminding myself this may all be for nothing. (Don’t let yourself get excited.) The reality is that a disease like infertility comes with a myriad of morbid issues, which for me included what you might liken to PTSD—or at the very least, severe anxiety. As any woman who has undertaken the IVF process will attest to, once you have lost that inherent trust in your body, you never fully recover it.
As I write this, I look back at the last 29 weeks and wonder how I survived, what nuggets of wisdom I would pass on to another petrified infertility survivor who finds herself in the beautifully terrifying position of what comes next. After much cogitation, I realized there are four things that I wish I had heard before I saw that positive test: