“My infertility is a blow to my self-esteem, a violation of my privacy, an assault on my sexuality, a final exam on my ability to cope, an affront to my sense of justice, a painful reminder that nothing can be taken for granted. My infertility is a break in the continuity of life. It is above all a wound… To my body, to my psyche, to my soul.”
-Jorgensen, 1981. On healing. Resolve Newsletter, Dec., 1.
There is a common expectation that if we are finally able to become parents, through whatever means necessary, all of the suffering from the last three years will vanish as if it never happened at all. That these years will be tied up in a neat little bow and left in the past forever. But while having a child is our ultimate goal and absolutely the most important aspect of this experience, nothing can erase what we have been through.
Why is it that no one ever expected me to recover from a ruptured appendix without any scars? Because it’s impossible to come through such a traumatic injury without any lasting effects. Today my abdomen is lined with thick, angry marks that stand as proof of the pain and suffering I endured fourteen years ago, and these scars will be a part of me for the rest of my life even though my body has long since healed.
Regardless of the outcome of our surrogacy process, living with infertility has changed me as a person. This experience has damaged me in a permanent way, and I will carry the scars from this time for the rest of my life, whether I am someday given the privilege of becoming a mother or not. The truth is: I can never be the same as I was before our struggle began, and I don’t want to live under the expectation that I will be that person again.
In order to accept me, you will have to accept my scars as well.