I need to hear from someone in the trenches

So, here I am again.  I had been really hopeful in December, feeling like maybe this would be the month.  But, nope, it wasn't.  It's funny.  I can always tell a few days before aunt flow comes to visit, and that's when I have the big cry. The feeling of acute disappointment that wracks my insides worse than the cramps I will inevitably have a few days later.  I have been dreading, to some extent, seeing my sister-in-law, who is now showing.  I always thought I'd look cute preggers, ya know, the round, basketball like belly, the fantastically bigger boobs (which in my case could be really cool!)  

It gets better with time I will say that.  I don't cry for as long.  It's not the entire time of my monthly visit, only a day or so.  But I will say the sensitivity lasts far longer, the feeling like your soul is bruised and the slightest brush with anything baby related, or any dreaming of what it will be like causes pain.

The holidays went by with barely a pin prick of longing.  It was kinda funny, though, at Christmas.  It was like everyone at my parents house had some kind of offer of help or advice or something having to do with us conceiving.  I honestly felt like Dustin Hoffman in the Graduate, ya know that scene where the guy comes up to him and says "Plastics." ?  Yeah, I was almost waiting for someone to do that!  It was sweet of them though, they tried to be sensitive, and were wanting so much to help.    The thing is no one can really do or say anything that will truly help.  Oh don't get me wrong, it feels good to know people care, that they hurt for you, that they truly wish they could take it all away. I feel fortunate to have people like that in my life.  But in final analysis nothing does. Chocolate.  Buffy. A good novel.  The gym.  They're all temporary fixes.  And I end up being grumpy and restless, knowing that there's no cure for it.  I just have to deal.  Wait for it to pass and hope I didn't leave any destruction in my wake.

My husband is extraordinarily understanding. He lets me be, listens to me rant or just sits with me.  He's amazing really.  He doesn't show that he's hurting, but I know he is.  

It's funny. For something that is supposed to come from such an intimate act, it's hard to talk to him about all this.  In reality, I haven't talked really to anyone.  It feels too raw all the time I guess.  I'm tired of crying and being disappointed. So when the feeling starts to build in me I push it away.  Not because I can't trust him, or anything like that, it's just I don't want to feel it.  I don't even want to feel it when I'm alone, like I am right now.

The acuteness of it is not constant, I will say that at least.  It's dull ache.  

Maybe one day I'll compile all this into a book.  I find it strange that women don't talk about infertility at all.  I know I'm not the only one who has struggled to conceive, but there are no groups in any churches I have ever been to where women who struggle with this can get together and talk and help each other.  Some people in churches tell couples who struggle with this that it's selfish of them to want it so bad, and that they need to stop wanting it like they do.  To these people I say "SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!"  You have no idea what the hell you are talking about and are only heaping more guilt and burdens on people that are carrying plenty already.    It's not selfish, wanting to be a parent is mostly one of the most unselfish things you could ever desire.  And  don't let anyone tell you any different.

But seriously, why are there no groups of women willing to talk about this?  Is it because with this comes a certain level of shame?  Or blame?  I think so.  I have blamed myself enough times.  I didn't eat the right things this month, I didn't make love enough, I didn't exercise enough, i didn't do...whatever.  It never gets easier, there never seems to be an end to the blame and guilt associated with this.  In our heart of hearts we blame ourselves, we think that maybe God knows we would be awful parents and so He with holds this from us.  Or maybe that...I don't know....if you're struggling with this just fill in the blank.  

In the end, it's not our faults.  It's only life.  Life is hard.  Life is a battle many a time. I have had many people tell me that they believe it'll happen for me, that it's just around the corner, that all I have to do is believe.  I have even had some very well meaning people suggest that I go out and buy stuff for the baby we will have, making an action in faith.  The problem is that none of these very well meaning, wonderful people have ever had this problem.  I have yet to hear from anyone who has struggled as I am, and I think I could really use that perspective.  But where are they?  How do I ask it?  Where do I find this group of women who intimately knows what I am going through?  I have no idea.

Grateful for what I've got

Setting up the Christmas tree is one of my favorite parts of the season. I love arranging the ornaments on the tree just so, looking at it all lit up; almost glowing after it's done. Setting out the santa and the stockings and haning lights in the windows. I love it all.
Sometimes my husband and I talk about when we have kids what things will be like. We'll have to put up the santa because the toddler will mess it up beyond repair. We'll teach them to not mess with the ornaments early; but have some at the bottom we don't really care if they get broken anyway just in case. Sometimes I love it. I love to daydream with him about what they'll be like, what we'll be like with them, the traditions we will start; like saturday morning pancakes made by my husband or going out to get the perfect tree every year. Sometimes it hurts too much though. I cant' explain it, I wish I could. But sometimes when I imagine that adorable little face with dark hair and beautiful green eyes staring back at me, my heart feels like it's going to be squeezed to death.
Sometimes I sit and am actually ok with the time we have that's just the two of us, I love it that we can run around the house naked if we want or have sex in the hallway. I love it that we can stay up late and laugh loudly without fearing to wake up a baby, or that we can go out to a nice dinner without having to arrange a babysitter. There are definately perks to this situation. But they're just not enough anymore.
Sometimes, I feel so fragile that if someone brushed up against me I'd shatter into a million pieces, sometimes I feel strong enough and joyful enough to withstand almost anything. Sometimes I love the quiet of my day, and sometimes it feels empty.
But, lest this blog become so depressing no one wants to read it, there are good things to report! christmas is coming! One of my favorite times of the year. I am starting revisions on my novel, which is going very well; and soon I'll have a laptop so I can write more conveniently and I am soooo excited about that! We're healthy, and happy together. Our families are healthy, and we will get to see almost all of them for Christmas this year, and not many people get to say that and be happy about it! LOL! So there are some good things in our lives; actually a lot of them. And whenever I get down about the one thing we don't have yet I need to remember all the amazing blessings in our lives. Friends that love us and support us, family that believes in us and loves us; and one another. Truly, my husband is one of the most amazing blessings in my life, and I am truly grateful for him.
And, the season would not be complete without Jesus. I know there are many different interpretations of the season but for me it's Him. His entry into the world was truly meant to be a light of hope, and shining, divine love. He loves me, and I dont' get why our baby hasn't arrived yet, but He does. And if my past is any indication; He loves me enough to make sure that things happen at the perfect time....Oh I know it sounds like drivel, and honestly sometimes I roll my eyes at it because it's anything but comforting at first. But He knows that, and He's ok with it. My eye rolling doesn't make it any less true, or His love any less potent; thank God!
So, Merry Christmas to us all! May it be a peaceful, joyous one.

The up swing

So, Thanksgiving was not at all as hard as I thought it would be. I had one moment of needing to "flee the scene" to go downstairs and cry a little, but other than that it wasn't that bad. My sister-in-law (one of the ones that is not preggers) took me shopping the day after Thanksgiving, and we had a blast. She got me to open up about how I'm feeling and was very supportive, I think that must've helped a lot. She didn't make a deal out of K (which is what I'll call my sis-in-law who is preggers) being pregnant and me not. She just asked how I was doing, and did it in private which was wonderful. I really didn't want to take away from K's joy of having a baby.
I have been seized lately, with a very calm peace and hope for this next month. A very peaceful pregnancy hope that I am scared to really take as my own. I am afraid I won't be and afraid of the emotional fall out from it. But, I can't help grabbing a hold of it, truthfully. I was looking at baby books today for K and her husband J, and I saw one that I really wanted to get for my husband; in fact a set that I imagined would be great to wrap up and put under the tree to surprise him with us finally being pregnant (like I could really hold out that long from telling him though!) I ordered a book called "The Fertility Diet" by Jorge E. Chavarro, MD, ScD and Walter C. Willett, MD, DrPH; and so far it's pretty interesting. I already chart my fertility signs (a process called Fertility Awareness; which I highly recommend looking at), and this looks like it will go right along with it. I recommend the the book, it's really straightforward and well researched so far. Any way, I am very hopeful...though it scares the ever living crap out of me!
So, I guess you'd call this the up swing.
I've been thinking about hope lately, this kind of hope. How I don't want to give in to it because it's too painful when it doesn't happen. But, the truth is that I can't live without hope. It's too dark a world without it. When I thank God for the fact that my baby is coming, it will be here soon, I feel a peace, a release of fear and anger. I find myself joyful, and I can actually go shopping for my nieces and nephews without crying afterward! I thank God for the desire to have a baby, since I believe it is from Him; even though I have often cried and asked Him to take it from me because when I do I believe I'll have it soon. I know this may seem hoaky, but it gets me through the days sometimes. And even though I may get Aunt Flow's monthly visit in a few weeks, and all hopes are dashed and I'm back crying over my oatmeal; the peace and joy of giving in to hope and faith beats the depression and fear and sadness of pushing it away.

So here's the scoop...

Ok, so this is hopefully going to be cathartic for more than just myself. I had actually thought about writing a book, but I'm too impatient for that I think, I don't know.
I've always been told I'd make a great mom, the doctor at my first ObGyn exam said I was a baby machine. So, squeezing out a few was never a concern of mine. But now, almost a year and a half after trying unsuccessfully to conceive, I am singing a different tune.
First off, let me say that I am a Christ follower, but I will try not to make this too preachy. I have faith that God hears prayers, that He is a good and loving father. I have read and re-read the stories about Hannah and Sarah in the Bible, and I have drawn some comfort. But it's always short lived. I know some in the Christian faith these days would say that my fear and doubt is what is stopping this blessing from happening, that I just need to keep believing and every time fear or doubt comes in just tell it to take a hike. Well, I don't agree with these people; I don't believe God withholds blessings just because we are human, with feelings. And besides, I would wager that anyone who says anything so callous to someone going through this has never had this problem before.
I am terrified that I am barren, terrified that I will never know what it's like to feel my baby growing inside of me, terrified that I'll never see my husbands cute little smile reflected back at me in the face of our toddler, terrified of the next forty or so years of torture that Christmases and other family events will be with my sister and brother-in-laws (as well as my own brothers' kids) kids running around, laughing, and playing, while I am consigned to being the Aunt that couldn't have kids of her own and so I spoil my nieces and nephews; fun for the kids, sheer hell for me.
I know in the grand scheme of things a year and a half is nothing, some women wait five or ten years to conceive. But for anyone who has gone through this; or is going through it, I'm sure you'll agree that time doesn't seem to matter here. It doesn't matter how long or short the wait, it's heart breaking every month when the cramps kick in and you realize that it didn't happen.
I want someone to come up and penetrate this pain, and make it better. And granted, I am very comforted by God, really I am. In the times I felt like curling up and never leaving my couch and my Buffy episodes, He is there to love me, and hold me. But it always comes back. Some might say that's proof positive that there is no God; I think it's proof positive of something called Life, that can stink sometimes, but God is there to hold me when it does.
I feel so completely alone in this. My friends don't understand; most of them are unmarried and glad when their periods signal the dodging of the proverbial bullet every month. My mother was so fertile that all my father had to do was look at her and she'd conceive. and the few married friends I do have are on their third or fourth child. I take a walk and it's like I'm the beacon for every pregnant or just delivered woman on my block. I swear it's like I can't go four steps without seeing a baby or pregnant lady. There are times I want to run screaming or punch someone. At our church there are so many pregnancies and new babies that I sometimes wish I hadn't shown up so I didn't have to force a smile on my face and pretend all is well.
Don't get me wrong, there are times I am just fine. No pangs of jealousy or fear, no tears that have to be swallowed until I get home. Sometimes I can almost believe I'm over it, I'm cool, it's no big deal, we'll just wait a little longer, it'll happen. But recently it's been the opposite. I cry on my way to the gym, I cry at the gym, in the shower, over my English muffin, at the grocery store. Sometimes I feel like the biggest, weakest cry baby on the planet.
I have a good life. I'm an actress that's gaining a measure of success in the city I'm in, I just finished the first draft of a novel and hope to publish, I have an adoring husband, fantastic friends and family who love me. Most would say "Take what you got and be satisfied." And I try. Sometimes I sit and think how ungrateful I'm being, how my life is actually pretty good, and it's satisfying. And I try to shrug my shoulders and say "It's alright. I can be happy with this." But it doesn't last long, and soon I'm crying again, my heart feeling like a giant hand is squeezing it, and I want to scream from the pain.
I'm going to Thanksgiving with my husbands family and we just found out a few weeks ago that his newly married sister is pregnant. Now, I am very happy for her, I am. But I can probably trace this tailspin back to that. I have been holding my breath for over a year now, waiting for it to happen to one of my sisters-in-law, and it finally did. I can't wait to hold my new nephew or niece, to buy them stuffed animals and take them for ice cream when they're old enough. She will be a wonderful mother. But I am not looking forward to being there, seeing her glow, seeing her husband lovingly caress her little pooch that is probably just starting. Seeing the excitement in every one's eyes, the talk of the baby shower, the theme of the nursery. I want to smile and jump up and down for her, I want to be able to join in without needing to hide in the bathroom later and cry that it's not me. How selfish am I!? But it's true and I can't seem to help it. I've prayed so hard, I've asked God to bring the happiness to the foreground, we can deal with the sadness later. But I can't seem to get a solid grip on myself. I guess a part of me is mad that we've been trying for a year and a half, and she got pregnant after barely six months of marriage. And I feel so horrible for being mad about that. I feel selfish and mean. She's been really understanding, in fact my husbands whole family has been (I really couldn't have asked for a better group of people to have for in-laws!). And I appreciate that, but I also feel bad about it. I do not want to take away from her happiness, she should be the center of attention, the one who is fawned over and made a big fuss about. Absolutely! And I know I'll join in doing that, I cant' help it. But right now, the thought of it makes me want to run and hide, makes me weep, makes me want to blame someone.