Rumor has it that 1 of out every 6 couples struggle with infertility, yet it does not seem that common. It's such a private struggle and a feeling of such intense failure that people do not come out and tell their stories, which does not help the 1 of us out of every 6 couples feel any better. I think that if it was more of a discussed topic then insurance plans would probably cover it, and those of us who are struggling would have a lot more people to open up to about our emotions, pain, and experiences.
After a couple months of trying I was starting to slowly climb the emotional roller coaster. It wasn't until after four months of trying when some friends who got married 2 week before us, told us that they were accidently pregnant. That is when I went down that first big drop on the infertility roller coaster. I didn't realize how bad I wanted it until someone else effortless gained what we have been striving for. I also don't think that my friends and family who knew that we were trying realized how much it hurt me. It was if someone just hit the wind out of me and I didn't know how to retrieve it. Then, just as I was started to deal with that, AJ's sister told us that they were pregnant with their second one. That day I just layed and bed and didn't want to move. I didn't want to see, hear, or talk to anyone. Really, I just wanted to throw my own little pity party, until I had to move on.
Right in the midst of our Clomid failures, I was asked to throw AJ's sister a baby shower. Considering that she is probably the nicest person in the world, I couldn't not do it. Throwing that party was when I learned that I cannot attend, throw, or even think about baby showers. A baby shower and an infertile person is a terrible combination.
I didn't like to be around my pregnant friends and family because seeing their growing bellies, the excitement of setting up the baby nurseries, picking out names, and hearing their pregnant stories was just getting punched in the chest. I know that no one would hurt me like that intentionally, but until a person struggles with infertility, it is a pain that no one was understand, relate, or soothe away.
In July I visited my new niece and AJ's sister in the hospital when she delivered. Although it was hard, it was my niece, and I was excited to meet her. I went there. I held her and I did ok. Even though I was depressed when I got home, it was nice to know that I had my very first niece.
Then in August, just two days before our 1 year anniversary of trying to get pregnant, our friends had their baby girl. AJ was excited because his best friend of 22 years had a baby, and I don't think he realized how hard it was on me. We go to the hospital (I didn't want to go this time) and we see her. She is handed to me and I have to do everything in my power to not cry or tear up. I sit down with the baby and then I get right back up and hand her to AJ because I just couldn't do it. This baby was conceived 4 months after we started trying and now she's here, and we aren't even close...
On August 15, our 1 year anniversary of trying to get pregnant, this entire new emotion took over my body. It was a feeling of hatred towards myself, a hatred towards anyone who "accidently" gets pregnant, a hatred for any undeserving mother, jealously, physical pain, emotional pain, and frustration. I just wanted to pull away from everyone and live under a rock where I don't have to see or hear anyone who is pregnant or has a baby.
I don't like holding babies or being around them because it's just a constant reminder as to what I cannot obtain. Even my niece, who once was the one baby I could be around, I have no desire to hold her because it actually hurts me. Our friends' baby I hadn't seen since the day she was delivered until this last week. That was one of the most gut wrenching experiences of my life. First of all I am with the friends that we always talked about having kids around the same time with so that our kids could be life long friends just that AJ and his friend. Plus, the fact that she was an "accident" is a completely different issue. How people "accidently" get pregnant is beyond me, but apparently they do.
When we went to their house I has on a constant verge of tears the entire time, and I could not wait to go home. I was afraid to talk, breathe, or even look at the baby because I knew it wouldn't take much to make me break down. At one point I had to go to the "bathroom" to pull myself together and there was a picture of their baby in the bathroom!? Who put's their baby's picture above the toilet!? There was so escaping. Then after dinner, the baby's dad tries to get me to hold her. I told him no and he kept trying to push her on me. Luckly AJ took her, but I cannot hold a baby. At all.
I joined a support group through a local church which I have mixed emotions about. First of all, I love having people to relate to and can gain through their experiences, seek advice, and just get the raw emotions out once a week, but at the same time it is a Christain based group, which means nothing to be. When someone says that they will pray for me, it honestly means nothing. Thank you for thinking about me and wanting what I want, but please don't pray, it honestly just frustrates me. Plus, all of the women in the group are a lot further in their journey than I am, so sometimes I feel like I shouldn't say anything because I am still on Clomid...the first step everyone who experiences infertility takes.
I started this blog to just release any frustrations and emotions that I have. It's a journal to me. And who knows, maybe with time I will allow people to read it.
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