My cousin posted this article about the increase in the rate of midwife-assisted births, and Bear and I talked about it. Bear's children were born at a hospital in the area that is known as a baby factory and is proud of it. I wouldn't want that if I was ever able to conceive, I do NOT want a place that is likely to rush me to induction or to c-section if I'm progressing slowly. But I found myself feeling very vehement about that. And I don't know why. It's not like it's likely to ever matter.
Bear thinks it will matter. Bear has also been researching IVF and talking to HR about how we might be able to work a flex spending account and the end of a year to cover half of the cost of a cycle. My mom thinks it will matter, and my other cousin. But I'm too scared to think that way. I know there's a decent chance that I wasn't the problem, and that Bear and I will be able to conceive, or that I was the problem but that we'll be able to conceive with treatments. But I remember having hope, and I remember how much it hurt to have that hope shattered, to have my heart and soul shattered. When it comes to love and being treated like a real person who is worthy of respect, my heart and soul have not just healed, but become more full than they ever were before things started going wrong in my marriage. But the infertility part of my heart is still broken in jagged shards that hurt when I try to move and grow.