I’ve been reflecting on the metamorphosis that I’ve under gone through my infertility journey over the past few years, when I look back now at the 7+ years I can see how much I’ve changed, how much infertility has changed me and I’m proud to be the person I am today.

There have been a few defining experiences of my life, infertility is one of them, survivingand thriving after the collapse of my abusive first marriage is just one of the others. We all have defining experiences in our lives, whether is be getting divorced, loosing a child, loosing a parent, being diagnosed witha dread disease or battling infertility,  we all have had experiences that have changed the very essence of who we are. If we didn’t what a waste our lives would be, to go through life with the spirit and mentality of a caterpillar never to morph and grow into a beautiful butterfly.

hairy worm

In the beginning, after I suffered my first miscarriage I bristled and pricked at the injustice of it. I could not believe or understand that life could be that unfair, that cruel, I was shocked by my misfortune and felt very sorry for myself. I hurt and everything hurt me, I was rubbed raw by my experience, I thought I’d never recover from it, I thought I’d never be able to stop crying from it. Every pregnancy announcement crushed me,  every conversation about friends and families pregnancies hurt me, brought tears to my eyes, a pain in my heart and yearning in my spirit.




butterflypupaeSomewhere in the midst of that pain & yearning, I went to ground, into hibernation, tried to run away from it all, tried to get away from the hurt. We moved to Mozambique and I took a sabbatical for 18 months. I tried to avoid the things that hurt me, I was bitter and twisted about the hand I’d been dealt, I tried to makes sense of the unfairness of it all. I fought against the hand I’d been dealt with every fiber in my being. I rebelled, I stamped my foot and shook my fist in anger at my infertility. I was overwhelmed by bouts of incredible sadness, I spent days crying and lamenting why me.  I had “vent” sessions whenever I heard about somebody elses pregnancy’s, it was hard for me to be joyful for anyone eleses good fortune, I was so overwhelmed by my fertility misfortune.  We moved back to SouthAfrica, we dabbled with a bit of light weight, entry level fertility treatment, it all failed. I fell pregnant again, I lost the baby, the one baby I was convinced I’d keep because it had stuck the longest, I was crushed.




My real struggle began after my 6thmiscarriage. I grappled with issues of being unworthy, unloved, not good enough for the blessing which God seemed to so willingly bestowe on so many others. I became obsessed with treatment, doing 3 IUI’s and 3 IVF’s in the space of 8 months, I pushed my husband to the brink, I pushed the boundaries of our marriage. I didn’t care about anything except the pain I was in and about finding a solution to that pain, I believed having a real life baby was  the answer, I believed it would end my pain, I believed it would change my life, give me the life I felt I wanted, thought I deserved.




 Somewhere in the last year and half, I realized I’ve undergone a complete metamorphosis. Somewhere in the last year and a half I learned to surrender to the things I couldn’t control or understand. To just let them be, to roll withthe punches and as graciously as possible absorb what life throws as me. Somewhere during the last year and a half my infertility has become a far less heavy burden to bare. Sure, I grapple with issues like whether or not to continue, I grapple with the odds of another failed IVF, I have a deep sense of loss for the embryo’s that didn’t make it. But I’m no longer overwhelmed by infertility, I’m no longer defined by it. I’m able to love deeply, I have a deep sense of compassion for the women I see walking this path, for the women I see battling the same issue’s I’ve battled. I have a sense of love & camaraderie for these women because I understand them, because I’ve been through it but I’ve come out of the dark tunnel and into the light, because I’ve morphed into a beautiful butterfly who loves babies, other people’s babies, who loves to touch the taught tightness of a pregnant belly, who attends and hosts baby showers and is able to experience the joy and wonder of these occasions. Yes, there is still that deep seated yearning for it to be me, but I’m no longer overwhelmed by the ugly emotions, by the bitterness of loss, by the questions of why me, by a sense of entitlement. And in becoming this beautiful creature, I’m able to recognize my blessings – and there are many – I can see that God has granted me the  path less travelled, but I can also see that this is what makes me unique, its what makes me special.

It’s with this wealth of experience that I go forward still believing that God has a plan for me, still believing that my experience, my journey is going to be so much more than just my journey. I’m constantly on the look out because I believe God has placed me on this path for a purpose and its not just for my own growth. I don’t know the how’s the why’s or the what’s but I’m waiting on Him to reveal His divine plan for me.

Does this make me perfect? No! Does it mean I don’t have issues I still need to deal with? No. Does it mean that I have a sense of superiority? No. But I would love to use my experience, my knowledge gained through this journey to help other women, to love them and support them through their own painful metamorphosis. My blog (and all of you who read it)  is the start of a new journey for me, where it will lead I don’t know but time will tell…..