My life is still worth living.
Despite the barren womb.
And the pain.
And the disease I can’t seem to quell no matter how I try.
My life is still worth living.
This probably doesn’t come as a surprise to most you. Nor should it. Life is a gift. A beautiful, amazing, incredible gift. And no matter how dire things seem to become, there is always a way out. Always a way up. I believe that.
And I believe that no matter what, life is always worth living.
But when I started this journey, I was surprised by the comments and e-mails (albeit, few and far between) I received from some women with endometriosis who had decided to forgo trying to conceive because they feared passing this disease onto any daughter they may have.
Don’t get me wrong. I am a big advocate of people selecting a path to travel that they personally are most comfortable with. I would never presume that the best course of action for everyone in my shoes would be IVF. Nor would I expect anyone else to presume that the best course of action for me would be adoption solely because that was the road they themselves had chosen. I think there are a million tiny little pieces that go into these decisions we make, and each path is so individualized that one could never begin to grasp how intricately the details came together for each person before a decision was reached. I would never presume to know what is best for anyone else in this journey.
But that reasoning; it always felt like a bit of a slap in the face to me.
If these women were going to avoid conceiving for fear of passing on this disease, did that make my life less worth living?
In their eyes. In their minds. Did this disease really mean that life somehow lost value?
I know for some women, the answer probably is “yes”. And I’ve got to admit, that makes me sad. Because even at my darkest place in this battle, I’m not sure I’ve fallen that deep.
Maybe I did and I just don’t remember. I’ve blocked it out now for fear of ever landing back there again.
But the point is that right now, in this moment; I don’t view my life as less worth living as a result of this disease.
Were I ever to be blessed with a daughter, I would certainly take precautions. She would be raised in an organic little world where gluten and dairy were rare treats. She would be on a supplement regimen from early on, and her hormones would be monitored by a naturopath right at the onset of puberty. I would read, and study, and commit myself to fighting this disease even harder for her than I have for myself. I would crusade for her. For her health. Her fertility. Her well being.
But should the worst happen and years down the line we realized that she was as afflicted with this disease as I am; I would try to teach her how very worth living her life still was.
Because we all have our setbacks. Our heartaches and sadness. We all have our crosses to bear.
If it’s not endometriosis and infertility, it will be something else. Maybe even something worse.
But none of it makes life less worth living.
And if tomorrow I was given the option of having a daughter and taking that risk, I would take it in a heartbeat.
For her.
For me.
And for a life still very much worth living.
ADSPACE
