There comes a time, when living in suburbia, surrounded by ideal families with their 2.2 kids, golden retrievers, and white mini vans, when you notice the other people who are also childless. It was then that I made an infertile friend. We slowly began to confide in each other. What tests we had done, what our hormone levels were at, becoming human pincushions, and paying hundreds of extra to get your blood work done at the hospital because your 21st day of your cycle happens to fall on Christmas Eve and no clinics are open. We unknowingly formed a group of like minded strugglers; the women in the waiting rooms.
The Women In The Waiting Room
