Compassion, Grace, and Courage

Last week, I gave an interview to my college alumni magazine talking about the work I've been doing for the infertility community, and how my one little video exploded on the internet nearly a year ago. I'm excited to see it come out sometime in April or May, as it will be coming up to the one-year anniversary of my video going live and also (hopefully) smack dab in the middle of National Infertility Awareness Week. As I was talking with the reporter, it dawned on me that it's been almost two years since I was diagnosed. And then I remembered that even those I was still a total IF noob, I outed myself on Facebook just a month and a half after the diagnosis. I quickly deleted it and then reposted it when someone I knew from childhood contacted me privately to say, "Thank you for posting this. I'm going through this, too."

I remember being totally blown away by the revelation that, holy cow- it wasn't just me, and not only that- this is someone I sat with in social studies class in middle school. And then someone else I went to school with contacted me. And then a former coworker. It was one of those moments when I realized just how indiscriminate infertility is and how it's touched a shocking number of people in my lives.

While I was in Atlanta, I received an email from one of those friends that reached out to me nearly two years ago. I'm posting it here with his persmission but have changed their names:

Hi Keiko,

I've been trying to figure out how to write this for weeks. I am going to screw it up and for that I am sorry. I have had this raging internal debate on sending this, for fear of making you feel like I am singling you out or making your day (or even just a brief moment today) unhappy. But as my only IF confidant (besides 1 or 2 VERY close friends) I feel compelled to write you

One of our IUI treatments a few months ago was successful; Bella is at 12 weeks tomorrow. I've been riding a roller coaster of emotions for weeks: joy, fear, guilt among others. The worst has been thinking of my friends in the IF community - and how they would feel knowing that yet another couple is expecting. I wish I had the magic words to make it all right, but as I still haven't found them myself, I don't know what to say... other than thank you: for being a voice, an advocate, and a friend- for doing what you do everyday- for giving all of us hope.

We may be pregnant, but I know I will always be a part of the IF community. I must carry the knowledge everyday that my son/daughter- in spite of all the love and wisdom (ha!) - I plan to give them is ultimately another man's genetic make-up. Ultimately (as we well know) there are burdens in life that we all must bear, and this is one that I happily choose to carry.

We plan to share our news in the very near future with everyone. But I knew that I needed to share this with you before that - and to thank you for being a voice... and perhaps offer you the same hope that you have given me and so many others.

- Edward

You could have knocked me over with a feather after I read that email. I replied and was totally up front with him: I'm so happy for them both, but I know they know that this is also momentarily painful too. I thanked Edward for his compassion, grace, and courage in sharing that with me in such a compassionate, graceful, and courageous way.

It was one of those moments that filled me with hope even through the tears of reading another pregnancy announcement. I hope that one day we do get to experience all of that same joy, and even their fear and guilt too. I feel like it's only natural when IF folks do find out they're pregnant. And I hope we get to experience all of that.

And I hope that if I do, I can show the same level of compassion, grace, and courage to all of you, because I know how hard it will be for some of you to read that. But after reading Edward's email - man, I really hope I do get to share that news with you one day. I was so filled with hope because, unlike the other success stories I read out there - I know Edward. We went to school together, suffered through the same miserable bio class, and while we weren't the best of friends, we got close only recently because we both had such a deeply personal battle in common. And I feel like because I know him, maybe it's totally possible for good things to happen to us, too. His story only makes me more hopeful for our own.

So to Edward and Bella (I couldn't resist): mazel tov on this wonderful blessing, this incredible new chapter in your lives and thank you for being a model of compassionate grace and courage to the rest of us.

Thanks for thinking of us and cheering us on. I'll still be doing the same for you, too.