The Misfit Uterus Finds a Home

My misfit uterus has settled down on the ultimate island of misfits -- Manhattan. Just like these toys, we New Yorkers are not standard-issue. We may not work exactly as the instructions say but instead of returning us to the manufacturers, we can find refuge on an island that accepts us for who we are. I am very lucky that you can find ample amounts of women here who marry later in life, who have kids later in life, or choose never to marry or have children. Everyone here seems to be a Rudolf. Everyone has a red honker guiding their own sleigh to where we want to be. It's not to say that this completely takes away the IVF isolation and dramatic moments of "Why me and nobody else!!" But at the very least, New York City is a lover of misfit-hood. It's not a surprise I live here and it's not a surprise that as a child I always felt a great kinship to the elf who wanted to be a dentist. I never understood why no one could play with a polka dot elephant or what was suppose to be wrong with that damn doll?

So if you are feeling like you got a dud uterus and all the other kids got the latest and trendiest ones, just remember misfit-ness is all in the eye of the beholder. We have misfit power. Own it, work it, and believe in yourself and you'll see that you are a toy that a little kid wants to play with, and that little kid will someday be your child. I've found a home for my misfit uterus. Sometimes it's this wonderful city. Sometimes it's moments with my husband, friends and family who know my IVF struggles. Sometimes it's my online buddy groups. Sometimes it's just a good cry. It’s a place that reminds me of who I am – a 36 year old New Yorker who took all the conventional and non-conventional roads she needed to take, long and short, and who can even proudly say that because my father is an OBGYN, I was a little girl who happily played with a foam uterus as one of my toys. Find your island of misfits and make it your home.