IVF is A Marathon
A poem
It is climbing Mount Everest. It is hiking in Zion.
It is running in New York City on the first
Sunday in November. It is trekking the Inca Trail,
Kilimanjaro, and the Grand Canyon. It is pacing
yourself in the Tour de France. It is the Olympics,
the Iron Man, the selection process for the
British Special Air Service. It is spring training. It
is boot camp. It is experiencing the emotions of your
teenage years while in the body of an adult. It is finding
where the light gets in on the darkest of days. It is
spilling red wine on your white wedding dress and learning
how to laugh about it afterward. It is forgetting what
you thought you knew to be true about getting pregnant
and learning a whole new way of being. It is being
humbled and being hopeful. It is giving yourself grace.
It is constantly reminding yourself that even though
your path to parenthood may look a little different than
others, it’s okay, for this road is a marathon, not a sprint.
This piece was originally published on my substack, “Spaghetti At The Wall” — subscribe here.
