Forty years ago today my future changed dramatically. I was two days old and in Utah. But in England Louise Brown was born, the first baby conceived via in vitro fertilization. That fact meant nothing to me at the time. But IVF means the world to me now.
IVF means a chance when there was none.
IVF means seeing our children the size of a period on a piece of paper and joking that they had Brett’s nose.
IVF means devastating disappointment.
IVF means intense prayers.
IVF means needles. Lots of them. And bruises.
IVF means telling each other a whole lot of inappropriate jokes.
IVF means funky socks.
IVF means more doctor appointments in a year than there are weeks.
IVF means enough blood draws that I wonder how many draws it would take to equal a pint.
IVF means enough blood draws that I have a permanent mark on my arm where they all came from and got burned out on being poked there to be interested in donating blood.
IVF means sleepless nights, throw up, spit up, poop, diapers.
IVF means four children call me mom, the first three a direct result of IVF and the fourth an indirect result as the first three kids cleared up the endometriosis in my body making him possible.
IVF means fear.
IVF means waiting.
IVF means faith.
IVF means hope.
IVF means miracles.
IVF means FAMILY!