Poem: She's More


She's more than meets the eye
She's more than your preconceived notions
She’s more than the one awake at night
                watching over her child(ren)
                                She worked so hard to have
                or staring out the window
                                Wondering when she’ll be next
She’s more than the one declining invitations
                to the baby showers
                                to avoid the painful reminders
She’s more than the one always on the sidelines
                watching others catch her dreams
She’s more than the one trying so hard to be whole on the outside
while she’s cracking from within
She’s more than the one who wants to scream from the rooftops
and tell the world her story
but instead, she sobs
into her husband’s chest
while he’s hurting too, and doesn’t weep with her
because “big boys don’t cry”
She’s more than the one who feels punched in the heart
                every time there’s a pregnancy announcement
She’s more than the one who crumbles
                every time the pregnancy test is negative
                and her feed is full of positives
She’s more than the one who’s constantly wondering if she’s worthy
of the love society says she should have
the love of parents (a status she wants so badly to have)
of partners (who leave because she can’t make them parents)
of children she doesn’t even know if she wants
and if that decision is because of infertility, or not
She’s more than the one waking up at 2am
from the nightmare that her surrogate would change her mind
the one staying up late rereading tips
                                on how to get pregnant for the 1767th time
or trying to figure out ways to pay
                                for the treatments, adoption fees, surrogacy
                wishing people wouldn’t be so hurtful
She’s more than the one crying (again)
                that her surrogate did change her mind
or that yet another embryo transfer didn’t take
or that her husband left her because he couldn’t handle it anymore
and(or) he found someone to finally make him a father
She’s more than the one putting on a brave face
                in public
                in the face of the news that it’s actually her husband who is infertile
She’s more than the one wondering
                why her body is unable to do the one miraculous thing it’s built to do
                                carry a child – make another human
                when people will stop invading her privacy
                                with silly questions
                “are you pregnant yet?”
                                Are you smart yet?
                “when are you having kids?”
please drop the “when”
                “when are you starting a family?”
Um, my partner and I are already a family…
“you’re not a real family until you have kids”
                See above answer.
“what do you mean you’re not? (pregnant, having kids)
                Uh, “no” is an option…
                “it’s your responsibility to raise the next generation!”
                                Really? Says who?
                “what’s taking you so long?”
                                Oh, so many things…
                “trying to get pregnant is the fun part!”
                                Obviously you’ve never really tried to pregnant
                                Or have a functioning uterus
She’s more than the one who’s lost friendships
                because they simply don’t understand
                yet she’s been welcomed into a sisterhood of those who do

She's more than all of the bad days.
She's more than the battles, the fights, the tears, the pain.
She's more than the distance between her and her partner.
She's more than the obstacles.
She's more than the decision to pursue motherhood.
She's more than the decision to not pursue motherhood.

She’s more than the negative:

She's the one who still hopes
                amidst the questions, the doctor’s visits, the endless tests,
                the pain, fear, and broken dreams
                the weight gain, needles, and heartbreak
She’s the one building others up
                because she knows what it’s like to be down
She’s the one breaking glass ceilings
                and floors
                and walls
                breaking the silence to show that there’s no shame in this struggle
and somehow manages to lead by example…
She’s the one who practices
                self-care and self-love
                to maintain her own mental sanity
She’s the one who has the strength to say no
because she knows when
she needs to say yes to herself
yes to her family
She’s the one who politely exits a conversation
                about periods, pregnancy, families
so others can save face
she doesn’t need to be rude
they don't know
She’s the one who loves with all her heart
even when she’s not feeling so loved herself
She’s the one who learns to own her truth
and discovers her worth,
stands up for what
and who she believes in
She’s the one who uses her pain to her advantage
to treat others with compassion
because she knows that behind that smiling face
are years of heartbreak
and some of the strongest people
She may have crashed and burned
                and then rose from the ashes
                a member of a club no one ever wanted to join
                yet proud to represent the strength and love
                of an infertility warrior

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