Show and Tell: The First

At previous Show and Tells, I’ve shown you many installments of infertility-related art (my own pottery that I’ve made using gauze from IVF #1, as well as art that I’ve purchased to commemorate various unsuccessful cycles) and, more recently, hopeful post-infertility/pregnancy-commemorating art.

But, I’ve never shown you the original photo that started the whole theme. It’s time.

First, a little background. Way back in February 2004, I was coming up on 2 years of infertility, and I was trying one last treatment cycle (Clomid + IUI) with Dr. Fancy Pants before temporarily throwing in the towel due to emotional and financial exhaustion.

That one last cycle worked. I was pregnant, finally, and it was amazing.

As regular readers are well aware, that pregnancy ended in miscarriage. My first miscarriage, the one that broke my heart and changed me forever.

There were only 8 days when I was aware of being pregnant, but those were the best 8 days I’d ever had. (I’ve had some other good ones since then, but never 8 in a row like that.)

In the middle of those 8 days, DH and I decided to go hiking. I selected a new trail from my Hiking Trails of That State book (you’ll notice that we’re wearing short sleeves in February, so obviously the range of states gets narrowed down) and we headed out. We had a great hike, and on the way home we stopped for one of my favorite meals, Ethiopian food. That was a very good day.

When I got home, I immediately sent the digital photos off to be printed. By the time the prints arrived in the mail, I had lost the baby. The 5×7 photo of the happy pregnant couple standing by a waterfall, our first photo as a family, was particularly painful. I put it away for many years, unable to look at it without crying. I knew the day would come someday.

Then, one day a couple of years later, I was putting together a photo collage, and I discovered that at some point I had become okay with this photo. Finally, I could stand to look at it every day. It would still remind me of pain, but it had transformed to simultaneously remind me of enormous joy. Joy, and hope. The same hope that I’ve carried with me since then, especially since getting pregnant this time.

I don’t actively look at the photo every day, but I pass by many times a day, and most visitors to our house look at it for at least a few seconds. I don’t tell them the secret behind the photo.

But, now you’re in on the secret. I think I’ll point out the photo and tell our babies about the secret too — once they’ve mastered binocular vision.

I apologize for our disguises — I’m paranoid about our identities being discovered by people IRL, as DH and I are both distinctive-looking in our own ways. Even the t-shirts we wore that day have identifying information. But, at least you can see the waterfall.

Finally I present: The first in a surprisingly long line of infertility-related art.

Hey, it’s the 50th edition of Show and Tell. 50 is a round number!