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Aging Decades in Two Years
In March 2019 I thought writing a blog would help me process my emotional journey to have a second baby. I ended up writing drafts of raw posts that I couldn’t bring myself to publish. I struggled to capture the heartbreak of my miscarriage in October 2018. And I couldn’t articulate the rollercoaster of anxiety, hope, and heartbreak of failed IUIs or fading pink pregnancy lines on a home test. And right when I gave up on the idea of a sibling for my then 3-year old, the hopeful two pink lines. I gave birth to my little Rainbow the evening of March 11, 2020, wearing a mask during labor…
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Being told you’re “geriatric.”
At a recent appointment with a reproductive endocrinologist (RE) the office manager told me I was “geriatric.” If you’re a woman, as soon as you hit your thirties, you’re OBGYN will remind you that your biological clock is ticking. After 35, after 6 months of trying, they’ll start prodding you with needles and throwing weird hormonal numbers at you. The older you are, every RE without fail will remind you of scary statistics. If you’ve had enough being reminded of your aging rotten eggs, and you feel young in spirit and outlook, join me on my journey. I am starting this blog tonight while drinking a cup of overbearingly sweet…