Saturday, April 14, 2012

Dum Spiro, Spero

While I breathe, I hope.

I'm just going to come out and say it.  I guess there's no better way.  I am one of those women who suffer from infertility issues.  I haven't been told I absolutely CANNOT have children, but I have been told I will more than likely need assistance as it'll be nearly impossible for us to do it on our own.  And even when I am able (with help or otherwise), it will be a high-risk pregnancy.  Scary to be told this when I had my children's names picked out when I was seven years old.  

I feel like such a failure as a woman, as a partner, and as a friend.

As a woman because we grow up with this idea that women (who want to) have babies.  That's one of the few benefits of being a woman.  Especially when you have the hips to go with it - and trust me, if my size 6/8 hips and bum weren't there, I think everything else could fit in a size 2/4.  I was always told to appreciate my hips because they send this subconscious message to men about my ability to bear children.  And here I am, at 25ish, being told that looks can be deceiving.

I feel like a failure as a partner because I'm not doing the one thing I'm really responsible for in my relationship.  I. can't. do. this. on. my. own.  Well, I can't do this with just one other person involved.  I get to go to doctor visits and talk about my sex life.  When I can, when I should, when I shouldn't, and how often to do it.  It's embarrassing.  Talking about sex isn't too bad.  It's that every month since I started this treatment, I'm having to go back in, or call in, just to say "I'm still not pregnant."
My doctor said most women are successful after just three months.  And sometimes there is a risk of twins (risk? where do I sign up?) And yet, here I was again, on the first month, still not ovulating on my own (with help of my pills, I mean).  And after we doubled the dose per my doctor's prescription, here I was again at three months letting him know I'm not one of the three-month-success-stories he shares with other aspiring mothers.  And now, six months later and still no baby. Ahh, clomid, the magic little baby pill - for everyone but me.

Then I'm at this age where I feel like everyone is getting pregnant.  Even if it is just three friends who are all due in October.  Who don't know each other.  And they call and tell me, and I am SO excited for them when they tell me, and I truly share their happiness because I know it is such a blessing in their lives.  And then we finish talking about it, and I retreat into my own mind, and I cry.  I feel this overwhelming sense of jealousy and sadness and anger.  I ask God repeatedly why it isn't me who gets to share those news with others.  I wonder why they're even telling me this knowing my situation.  I get angry with God again because there are tons of horrible mothers out there who don't appreciate the gift He's given them and here I am having to learn of stories of women who do.  And then... I realize what I'm doing.  And I realize how awful I am being.  And I feel like such a failure in my friendship with each woman sharing her amazingly joyous news with me.  I feel like I should apologize to each of them, but then how do I even bring it up?  How do I explain these feelings that run through my mind and tell them that it's "normal" even if I don't think it is?  Why would I even make their pregnancy about me?  See?  That's my failure as a friend again - thinking that somehow, this is about me.  But I can't help it.  No matter how hard I try, I can't keep these feelings from surfacing.  I wish so badly that I could.

Then somedays, I run across pictures like this
and part of me gets angry because I read way too much into it, and I tell myself it's an affirmation that I am not whatever-this-card-says-i'm-not-because-i'm-not-a-mom.  "Stop reminding me," I say out loud.  I swear, sometimes I think I'm absolutely crazy.

But I'll be damned if I stop trying.  I'm only 25.  So I pray. and I take my pills twice a day for five days every month.  And every month I cross my fingers and hope that this is it.  And every month it isn't.  But every month, I find relief that at least I've escaped morning sickness for one more month.  

Yet still, while I breathe, I hope.


Thursday, April 5, 2012

Novi Coeptus

New Beginnings

I've been wanting to start a blog for a while.  Unsure of what part of my life I want to reveal to what is the open pandora box known as the Internet, I've put it off for over a year. But alas, I'm ready.

I'm not expecting a clear direction. I figure that will all eventually sort itself out as I write more and more thoughts. What I do know is that I promise myself, and you, my non-existant, future readers, that aside from protecting identities, I will remain as honest and true as I possibly can.

Thank you for coming to my little corner and sharing in my experiences.  I hope in some way you are able to relate, learn, or rethink at least one thing during each visit.

Please be respectful and kind. Even if we disagree or you disapprove, I hope we can agree on this one.

Remember that this is my life, and these are my experiences.

With Love,