I Hear Some People Just Have Sex (An Infertility Memoir with an Ambiguous Ending)

Eight and a Half YearsSixteen Infertility CyclesFour Timed Intercourse CyclesTwo IUI CyclesTwo Egg RetrievalsSeven Frozen Embryo TransfersThousands of DollarsTwo MiscarriagesThree PregnanciesLive Births ...? That's my infertility story. Almost a decade of trying, almost $65, 000 spent on infertility treatments. So many IVF cycles that I can give myself progesterone shots in the rear. So many transvaginal pelvic ultrasounds that a pap smear no longer impresses me.
Changed relationships, changed career goals. A whole list of things no one should ever say to someone going through infertility. And almost a baby. Almost.  Because even though I am scheduled for a C-section next week, as I publish this book, I still do not have any guarantees. Infertility is a hell of a life crisis. But also, if you can learn how to navigate these choppy waters-if you can learn how to let go of what you can't control, how to cope with the hard parts you never saw coming, how to play the world's longest waiting game-you will build resilience and grit you didn't think you were capable of.  This is not a "how to have a baby" book.
It's not a "how to survive until you have a baby" book. It's a "how to survive and maybe even thrive while trying to have a baby" book. That's what I know: how to survive infertility and make the best of it while you're praying for the miracle of a baby. And I know how to survive this because I've done it for nearly a decade. Some people just have sex to get pregnant. Not me. Maybe not you, either.
We have infertility battles to fight, and this gets worse before it gets better. But I was made strong enough for this, and so were you. Let me show you how I know.