Yup, another boring post about infertility and not being able to get pregnant and have children. Statistics show that I usually have a Winter and a Summer edition, so I’m just about on schedule with this one. In other news, I wonder how many people began following my blog years ago just to see if I’d get knocked up and after all these years have given up hope and stopped following?
Am I the only dummy who is still hopeful?
Let me first just begin by saying that I can’t believe we have been trying to get pregnant and have a baby since 2007 {a few months after my Laparascopic Surgery to remove cysts on my ovaries… wherein my doctor stated something along the lines of We’ll clean you out so you’re all ready to carry a baby}. Six years later and still nothing. Six. Years. Later. NOTHING.
I’m terrified of fertility treatments, hormones, and IVF, so they are not options for me. Besides, I really don’t think I’d be able to handle the disappointment after going through invasive treatments and mood-altering hormones {as if I’m not moody enough}, not to mention the expenses, and then still coming up empty. It would literally devastate me. I don’t even know how I’d get out of bed after that.
* Read my infertility story here if you like {scroll down for the oldest posts}
After a fun weekend spent with a sweet 5 year old and an adorable three month old baby, whom I adore more than I ever thought possible, I had a bit of a hard time getting out of a funk yesterday after they left. And as the day progressed, my emotions went up and down and around, like a roller coater and I wish I could say I was ready for it, but I wasn’t.
I got sad and then angry and then sad again AND THEN FURIOUS AT MYSELF for still having these feelings! I can’t believe that no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to accept the obvious fact that we are not, we will not get pregnant. It’s been SIX YEARS and I have to shake the hopeful thought out of my mind at least once a month! Only an insane person would continue doing the same thing and thinking the same way, and getting the same results month after month, year after year, and still have hope that the outcome is going to be different.
I feel stupid. I feel like a failure. I feel ashamed. I feel embarrassed.
So I hold it all in and act like everything’s okay… until I burst.
I asked my husband last night if he thought it would be smart to go see an infertility therapist to talk to and he asked me what I thought a therapist was going to tell me that I don’t already know? And I said nothing… or maybe something, I don’t know. Maybe they’ll offer some coping mechanisms because clearly what I’m doing {taking on more work to keep myself busy and preoccupied} isn’t working. I’m just getting more and more stressed out by it all.
As I was fawning over my new baby brother-in-law, talking about how cute he is and how much I adore him, a voice chirped out: I know how you can fix that, you can have one of your own. To which I smiled and happily responded, oh, we can’t! {Because god forbid I show my real emotion and then make someone else feel uncomfortable.} But he didn’t know, and I had to put on a happy face like I always do, and act like it’s no big deal, like I always do and say, “oh we can’t get pregnant”. But do you know how hard it is to constantly talk about it without worrying about my voice cracking and/or breaking down and crying? And we’re in that age bracket where we get asked by everyone we meet if we have kids and why not and then… it’ll happen when you least expect it to. OH WILL IT?!
And don’t think that the men are exempt from this onslaught too. Dudes have told my husband that we are just not having sex right, have told him that they just look at their wives and they get pregnant and some have even asked him jokingly if they should come over and do it for him… as if that’s EVER the right thing to say!
I’m so angry. I’m so sad. I’m ashamed and embarrassed and I don’t even want to burden my husband with it any more. The story is no different every time it bubbles up and pours out of me, and it’s embarrassing. I try as hard as I can to not let my emotions rule me, to think about it logically, but them my period comes or I get a little baby time and boom, I’m a stupid mess again.
I’ve realized the reason we haven’t really moved completely forward with adoption yet is because I haven’t fully accepted the fact that I cannot get pregnant. I want adoption to be our choice to give a child a good home with loving parents and a safe environment to grown up in, and never ever feel like they were a last resort. I overthink things, sure, but honestly, in my opinion, I would fail as a parent if my child {adopted or not} felt anything but love from us, let alone resentment.
So no, I don’t think a therapist is going to really tell me anything I don’t know, but maybe I’ll feel better just talking to someone who understands and who I don’t feel shitty about wasting their time with emotional blabber because that’s what they are paid to do.
I thought for a moment… how did I used to cope with hardships in life? And I would write in my journal. I’d write and cry and write and cry until it was all out of me. So here, now, this is my therapy.
Women often reach out and thank me for helping them cope after they reading my posts, so maybe through my blathering, someone else will find peace. Or maybe just the momentary bliss of not feeling so alone. Trust me, for anyone going through this, as soon as you think you’ve got it handled it creeps back in. As soon as you feel like you’re over it, it’s all over you like flies. So know if this is happening to you too, I totally understand. You are not alone. I’m still trying to figure it all out too.
