The problem with having a "Plan A"

is that it implies it will fail and there must be a Plan B. We would never introduce our current spouses as "my first husband", as if to imply there will be a second. I'm not sure what Plan A ever was...I suppose it was get married, have lots of sex, and one of those times will make a baby. Obviously that's been pushed aside for more exciting plans that have involved attorneys, dozens of doctors, injections, contracts, and lots of additional participants. It's almost as if I forget all the plans we've once had in place, until I'm forced to recall the magnitude of devastation that we've endured in our efforts to become parents.

(Un)fortunately, I had a hysterectomy before my dh & I ever started dating. Only 3 months after we had been engaged we were strongly encouraged to pursue surrogacy if we ever wanted to produce a child using my genetics. We cancelled our perfectly orchestrated Cinderella wedding and packed up the car for a roadtrip to Chicago to meet with the surrogacy agency. It was shortly before egg retrieval that our cycle was cancelled with no hope of trying again due to my very unhealthy ovaries. This was followed by two adoptions situations that were presented to us that failed for a variety of reasons, a lot of marital heartache, and the conclusion to pursue traditional surrogacy. This is the simplified version, of course. And now, Plan (Insert Letter of the Alphabet Here) has also failed. After previous confirmation that M's insurance would cover surrogacy, a final "check" today confirmed that it will indeed not cover her.

Financially, we are not prepared to take the risks of insurance claims being denied or purchasing an additional insurance policy for M. So, for now, we are unsure how a baby will make itself into our arms. We need time to digest, pray, and consider our options (again).

When was the last time you felt joy?

I was thinking last night about surrogacy and babies and how infertility has changed me into a person I hardly recognize. I had a faint recollection of joy. Do you remember joy? I wonder if I will ever feel it again. Will the day my baby is born via surrogacy be filled with joy or will my happiness be tainted because I'm not the one lying on back recovering from bringing life into this world? I don't know what the actual definition of joy is, but I've always considered it "happiness untouched". The experience of being happy without any aftertaste of sadness. There always seems to be an aftertaste of sadness in my life since infertility.

In anticipation of our urologist appointment in under 2 hours (it can't get here quick enough), I called our insurance company to see if they cover semen analysis. To my delight, they cover them 100% with no copay! Of course, they exclude millions of other infertility related procedures because our medical community thinks fertility treatment is a convenience not a necessity, but I digress. I thought for a minute that I was experiencing just a tinge of joy, we've saved a few hundred dollars for each SA we do, no exclusions, deductibles...there's no catch, just "Yes, we cover them at 100%". Definitely something to be joyful about. And then I thought that normal people who experience normal joy would never be joyful about insurance coverage for infertility treatments. 10 year ago, I would have never been joyful about such coverage but today I experienced it a bit. I didn't think about how I wish they covered uterine replacements or the entire costs of surrogacy (since they won't be paying for my pregnancy), I didn't feel sad that we're needing an SA to use my dh's sperm on another woman instead of me. I was just purely joyful for the coverage. I'm thankful I was able to experience that joy for a brief moment, although I see it only speaks volumes about how much infertility truly has changed me. Joy...over insurance coverage so someone can run tests on my husband's sperm? I've set a new, much lower, standard for joy it seems. Infertility causes us to create new normals. I no longer think of sex when someone says that she's "trying to have a baby". I think of IVF, ICSI, laboratories, IUI's, morphology, and no intimacy at all. That is my new normal. The same holds true with joy. Joy can no longer be happiness untouched because all my happiness with forever be touched by infertility. I must redefine joy for my new normal of a life.