You show up to the airport with your spouse, anxiously and excitedly waiting for your loved one to arrive. You're there waiting with all your friends and family who are also waiting for their special delivery.
The plane arrives, someone opens the doors and people start to appear in the tunnel. You hold your breath as people trickle out and run into the arms of the ones waiting for them. You see the joy on their faces as they greet the new arrival and they slowly leave. Eventually less and less people are coming down the little hallway and suddenly you realize everyone else is gone.
An airport worker approaches and explains that maybe your loved one missed their flight and to stick around for the next arrival. The room fills again with people waiting and the same thing happens. You're so hopeful as each person comes out, desperately leaning forward and straining your eyes to see if they came to see you. But again, the plane empties and you are again left alone.
This time you're told to go home and try coming back another time. Maybe they weren't ready to come home. Maybe they just keep missing their flight. So you pay lots of money to the airlines to make sure this special person is on the next flight. You call and double check the itinerary, triple check it even. You're told they will make this flight so you and your spouse go to the airport again. And you wait. And you wait. And you wait. By this time the people who work in the airport know you by name and even ask you why you even show up. You respond with "How can I not show up? What if this flight is the flight they actually make?" So you're waiting and watching people pick up their loved ones, some of these people you've seen pick up people before. You desperately want to feel the joy of embracing that person you've waited so long for. But again, you're left with no one.
Defeated, you go home. But you'll be there again tomorrow. Waiting.
I think infertility is about waiting and eternal, sometimes foolish hope.