As I approached my five-year wedding anniversary, it felt like my long-time goal of motherhood was farther away than ever. My husband had recently quit a good job to go to grad school and my teacher money was not going to pay for our next round of in vitro fertilization any time soon. It had been a little over four months since our last IVF had failed and I needed to figure out what I was going to do next.
In the middle of this crisis, I went to an infertility girls’ night out. We did it every other month to get together without having to talk about our infertile woes like we did at support group. We were enjoying a fountain show and sipping sodas when the organizer asked if she could talk to us about something for a minute before everyone went home. She told us that she’d had an idea and wanted our input. I listened intently as my friend laid out her plan: a nonprofit that helped connect infertile couples to available resources. I was awestruck. Of course, I thought, the community needs this. I need this. As she spoke, I had the kind of burning in the bosom they talk about over the pulpits or in the scriptures. Every breath I took was a fiery flare-up and it wouldn’t stop until I spoke. I offered to help however I could, but I didn't think she was getting what I meant.
As our girls’ night dispersed, she moved to a table to have the first meeting for the Utah Infertility Resource Center (UIRC) with a couple of the other women from our group. I followed her, unsure of how to say what I knew I needed to get out. “Camille,” I said once she sat down, “I want in. I want to be a part of this.” She pulled out the chair next to her and patted on the seat.
And just like that, I was in. My friend and fellow infertility warrior, without a word, gave me a seat at the table.
Camille started that first meeting by having everyone say something. “I want us all to say why we’re here. Why are we doing this?” Before I knew it, it was my turn. Why was I here?
I took a deep breath and words for the first time in months flew out of my mouth instead of falling out.
“Because no one deserves to feel as alone as I have felt.”