Just a number
It starts with our bank account numbers and how much they can make off us. I have a lot to say about infertility treatments, but I’ll keep it brief. The most important thing is that, while I may never use my beautiful eggs, I’m definitely going to use my experience to challenge a system that’s outdated and indifferent to women. How bizarre is that? Services are supposedly being offered to help women, but we’re still not seen or supported.
Don’t get me wrong—my doctor and her team of nurses were kind and supportive. But the financial department? They were nice until they asked for more money, all while hiding those costs and refusing to take any responsibility. I had to say no. The monitoring in Miami was stressful because there were too few ultrasound technicians available. And here’s the kicker: the first thing your doctor says is, "No stress, as much as possible!" I can’t help but laugh. Between hidden fees, the anxiety of making it on time because of traffic (and the fear that the tech might leave before you arrive), and the overall feeling that you’re just another number, it’s overwhelming. Add in the physical toll, with a bloated belly that looks like the face of Rocky Balboa after a few days, and here you are!
It’s incredible that women are so strong, but when I think about how many go through this multiple times, I’m amazed. I also understand the emotional and physical toll it takes. After sharing my story and hearing others, I found that none of them had a positive experience either. Yes, they got their baby in the end, but why should we have to suffer through all that? And let’s not even start on the horrors some women face for routine OB-GYN visits—being dismissed, not taken seriously, or worse, told to "just shut up" during childbirth. When we express symptoms, it's often written off as "depressed” rather than addressing the root cause.
The truth is, women are still treated as second-class citizens, and I’m fed up with it. And don't even get me started on the fight for abortion rights! That’s why, even though I may never meet my unborn son (yes, my intuition tells me he’s a boy) in the physical world, I’m grateful for the gift he gave me—a sense of purpose. I’m here to fight for women, and men, you are more than welcome to join us too. We need you, just in a different way.
I can't wait to dive into studying endobiogeny and building a team of practitioners who will truly see, hear, and understand each person’s unique journey. You are not alone.
Much Love,
Marine Sélénée