I have a one year old son but I am still infertile. That's a hard realization for me to come to terms with. My husband and I would still like to add to our family but there are just so many unknowns. It feels like we'd be setting out on yet another monumental journey (but this time while carrying a child with special needs, emotional baggage from years of IF, and lasting sorrow from a prior late-term loss) and I honestly just don't know if we have it in us. We are both a bit beaten down now. We don't know how much treatment we'd need to endure before we *may* be able to have another. We don't know if we are able to conceive a genetically healthy child. We don't know if we are "tempting fate" by trying again. We don't know if we are strong enough to handle it if we get pregnant and then receive bad news again or have another loss... We just don't know. I don't want to be one-and-done. But I also don't want to go through hell again. At this point I am not sure which option scares me more.
When I got pregnant the first time, I remember celebrating finally "beating" infertility. I didn't realize then that IF was something that stays with you and may never truly disappear. I do feel like it's become part of my identity and is not (yet?) just my past; it's still very much a part of both my present and my future.
I have so many more thoughts but this is what I chose to share. And now I have thoughts about those thoughts. And the overwhelming thought is this: Wow, that's kind of depressing.