Many of you may know that it took us a while to get pregnant. When you go through challenges getting pregnant, the doctors brand you with a diagnosis . . . “infertility.” I always thought that infertility meant the inability to get pregnant or have children, but it turns out that “infertility” also means “we worked really hard, went through a lot and waited a long time to get pregnant.”

That time was extremely difficult for me . . . I wanted very much to experience the joy of pregnancy and parenthood, but everyday, I lived with the fear that we would never get pregnant. I also remember the jealousy that would strike. It was very difficult to be around pregnant people, paste on that smile, and be happy for them, when all I wanted was to be in their shoes.

I remember when we were trying to get pregnant, I used to get pretty upset at women who already had babies who were whining about not getting pregnant with a 2nd or a 3rd child. I really was not sympathetic – I kept thinking, “at least they have one.” I know they went through pain each and every month they didn’t get pregnant, but part of me would think “well, they can wait their turn.” I would get upset when friend after friend got pregnant quickly or easily each month, and it was a struggle for us. I kept thinking that it was all so unfair. But, like the “never let them see you sweat” commercial, I never let them see my pain . . . or jealousy. I went to every birthday party, every bbq, every baby naming, every bris and pasted on a smile. Along the way, I learned how to be truly happy for my friends despite my personal pain. Only my closest confidantes ever knew I was masking any pain.

So, here I am, a woman with a child, getting ready sometime in the next year or so to try again for another child. I still have some friends struggling with infertility, who wait month after month to find out that they are finally pregnant, and on one level, I feel that it is unfair for me to want another child when they are still struggling to have their first baby. I feel a bit guilty to be preparing to go through this process, and a little afraid of sharing with them my whines and rants about not getting pregnant each month when they are still waiting to have baby #1.

Not surprisingly, I do feel a bit different about the subject now that I am on the other side. I do think infertility is infertility, and it hurts whether it is for #1 or #2. In some ways, going through it all over again when you know what you are about to face is just ridden with all kinds of anxiety.

Despite my guilt, a part of me hopes to be one of those lucky ones who has it easier the 2nd time around. If that happens, I am sure I will feel guilty that I became one of “them” – you know, the people I always resented. And secretly, I hope to have the opportunity to join the “them” club. I also really do hope that I am not one of those women who can never have that 2nd child – I hope that “infertility” doesn’t try and steal that joy from me, too.