I wish I could tell you that the emotional turmoil linked with years of infertility just magically disappears with a positive pregnancy test. I wish more, that I could tell you my mind is free of negative thoughts, fear, hesitation. Instead, we’re going to talk about something ugly. We’re going to talk about the impact of infertility – after the positive pregnancy test.

While, so far, all of my posts have been my experiences and opinions I recruited a few friends for input on this topic. I am lucky enough to be in contact with a group of people who have all experienced infertility, and come out the other side, either currently pregnant or with a child. Thank you, to everyone who was kind enough and open enough to share with me. I know how difficult this can all be.

The range of emotions that comes along with a pregnancy after infertility is enormous. The emotion that was talked about the most? Worry.

Worry. That tormenting feeling that wriggles it’s way in and waits, like the worm at the rotten core of a picture perfect apple. So what do we worry about? Short answer – everything. Details? Chemical pregnancy. Miscarriage. Birth Defects. Still Birth. In summary, that something, anything, is wrong with the baby.

Sometimes this worry is soothed with hearing the heartbeat. An ultrasound. A kick. But it almost never fades completely. That worry and fear that despite a pregnancy, parenthood still just isn’t in the cards.

Do parents who haven’t experienced infertility worry? Absolutely. Do parents who have experienced infertility worry more? Almost certainly.

Those who have progressed from pregnancy into motherhood still feel worried. I know that all new parents worry, but infertile parents seem to hang onto those terrible what-ifs; hang onto the fear that after all the work and sweat and tears it can still be taken away. Worry can also stem to having a second child and the difficulties that will likely accompany that.

Now for something a little more positive. Well, a lot more positive; because, I’m fairly certain that joy is just about the opposite of worry.

Joy. The day I found out I was pregnant was the happiest day of my life. It’s having your biggest most important dreams come true after fear, hurt, disappointment, and all of the terrible emotions that come along with infertility. Complete, unmeasurable, overwhelming joy.

Habits. I’m not sure that habits is the best word here, but I’m not sure what else to call these little emotional events so ingrained in infertility that continue on into pregnancy. Like, automatically averting my eyes when walking past the baby section in the store. Then, I remember that I’m supposed to be oogling cartoon trucks and itsy bitsy socks with excitement, not disappointment and sadness. There’s also still that twinge of jealousy when I see someone pregnant, or with a child. Pregnancy announcements of friends and family are still paired with feelings of hurt and anxiety that I have to brush away before I can bask in the happiness with them.

Side Note: To anyone who has announced a pregnancy to me in the last three years and was met with anything short of complete excitement, I’m sorry. I am deeply happy for each and every one of you, but have been very much caught up in my own experiences and pain.

We’re Special. Forgive me for sounding like a total brat here. All pregnancies are amazing miracles, but there’s something about infertility that changes things. Infertility involves time (almost three years in my case), doctors, nurses, appointments, tests, needles, more tests, more needles, medications, tears, heartache, disappointment, more time, wishing and hoping, pain, and so much money. Does all of that (and more) make infertile pregnancies more special than your second cousins third pregnancy that resulted from a drunken one night stand? Honestly, yes. Is that slightly conceited sounding of me? Absolutely. Are the babies that result more special? Nope (unless of course you ask the parents, but every parent believes their child is the most special miraculous little human to ever grace this world). Many people go through hell and back with infertility in order to get pregnant, and each one of them is a rock star in my opinion.

Every person who has dealt with infertility will deal with a pregnancy a little differently. Personally, the joy has been the front runner. Although I’m still trying to break some of my habits, and probably always will be, I consider myself very lucky that our infertility journey did not involve any miscarriages – as many do. This decreased my worry during the first trimester; now, in the second trimester with the diminished risk of miscarriage and perfectly normal first trimester screening results I am starting to feel more calm and excited. This is my experience; some people have a very difficult time. Please, keep that in mind if you have a friend who seems cold or disinterested in those omg adorable baby items you want to give her at 8 weeks pregnant. Sometimes, with infertility (especially with repeated miscarriages) it can be very difficult to just be excited at first. Because, you know, that whole worry thing.

Infertility does not magically disappear with a positive pregnancy test. Infertility is something that can be a life long struggle, impacting emotions even after children. In other words, infertility fucks your shit up.