Missing the mark

I went to see a private fertility specialist the other day. A man only a year older than me, who is renown as being the young sexy ob/gyn about town. He was beautiful, and personable and sympathetic but he still doesn't really understand how it is to be the one sitting in my chair.

After I told him we'd been trying to have a baby for two years, he asked me if I had gotten sick of taking the folic acid every day.

Uh ........ no
I'm sick of having sex just to get pregnant when I'm tired and stressed and not in the mood
I'm sick of the roller coaster wait each month to see if it worked
I'm sick of all the people around me swelling up with child and bringing their babies into work
I'm sick of wondering what went wrong and could I have stopped it and will it happen again next time
I'm sick of the impact that the grief and the stress has on my life and my relationship

But frankly, no, I'm not sick of taking a teeny tiny pill every day. I'd be willing to do a great deal more, if it would help.

Then of course, there was the cool, serene acupuncturist who poleaxed me when making polite conversation and asking if I was sick of waiting to get pregnant.

Hello, I'm not infertile I'm a recurrent miscarrier, I've already been pregnant several times. Have you even read my file lately? And frankly, "sick of waiting to get pregnant" is the biggest understatement I've heard in a long time. When I'd been trying to get pregnant for six months with no result, THEN I was sick of trying to get preggers. Now, I've visited the deepest reaches of soul and come to the understanding that I have absolutely no control over what fate chooses to dish out to me and yet I've still scraped together enough courage to keep on trying and risk it all again. OK?