And this time, it's not about me or my life.
It's about a friend.
A friend I met by finding her blog.
She is quite possibly one of the funniest, most passionate people I've ever met.
She's a 27-year-old single girl in Alaska. Two years ago she was diagnosed with endometriosis and, over the next two years, her endo progressed to stage 4. One of the fastest cases all the docs she's been to have ever seen.
She was told that if she wanted to have kids, she had to do it now, or she probably never would.
So she chose IVF. She went through all the testing, and two surgeries, and bought sperm (men's version of liquid gold, apparently) and went for it on her own. She spent pretty much every dime she owns, and borrowed immense amounts of money from her grandma to pay for this.
She only had enough money, and strength of heart, to get one set of embryos.
She did her first round in July, and it failed.
She had two embryos frozen, and today found out that it failed, too.
My heart is broken, for this girl I don't even know. It's just one of those times that I'm sitting her staring at the ceiling going, "WHY, God? Why?! Why, why, why?!"
I barely know this girl, but I was praying so hard for her to have her dream of being pregnant. It's not about having a biological child to her, it's that she just wanted to be pregnant. And it seems just so screwed up that this girl, who you can tell after about two seconds of reading her blog, is meant to be a mother, can't have the one dream she's been dying for. When there are moms out there who abuse their kids, who sell their kids to pay off drug debts, who do so much harm and can get pregnant with ease time and time again, it just kills me that this girl is sitting in her Alaska apartment crying her eyes out right now because her body has failed her, all her hard and tenuous work has failed her.
But you know why I think this case is bothering me more than others? Because in five or ten years, I could be her. My mom had severe endometriosis, and it's hereditary. My periods have never been regular. I was told at 16 that my doc thinks I have an ovarian disease. For years now, I've had this gnawing feeling in my gut that as much as I desperately want to be a mother, conceiving is not going to be easy.
I can't predict the future. All I can think tonight is that my heart is breaking for my friend.
Why, God. Why.