Thank you all for the comments yesterday and today. Sometimes people on the outside look at me like a crazy woman when I admit to airing all my personal infertility business on the Internet. I don’t think they realize how horribly lonely this journey is without people who have actually lived it. No matter how much my mother loves me, she will NEVER be able to understand the anguish I feel as she easily conceived and delivered two healthy children. You all, however, have just the right words as you have experienced the same devastation month, after month, after agonizing month. I have said it before and I know I’ll say it again, thank you for the out pouring of support. If there was anyway for me to hand deliver homemade vegan cakes to each and every one of you, I would.
So how am I today? I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams. Mr. Husband and I had our first dual yelling and crying fight over infertility last night. It was messy and painful.
I wish he could step inside my mind for 24 hours. My wanting a baby is not some trite desire. I don’t want a baby like some women want a BMW. I don’t want a baby because everyone else is doing it. Fuck. If this were the case I would have long since put that “want” to bed. Just like I have “un-wanted” my own car, a pair of Fluevogs, a lush trip to Scotland, etc.
No, this “want” I feel for a child is incomprehensible. It is an ache that does not go away. I don’t like going to sleep because my dreams are peppered by the desire for a child. I hung my head in shame as I admitted that some nights the dreams are so vivid I wake up and my breasts literally ache. I can feel that child at them and then I wake up, heart and mind racing. Is it real? I feel guilty about these dreams, like a 13-year-old boy feels guilty about dreaming of his first fuck.
This is not something I can just put away. If I could, trust me, I would. I would love a night without the dreams. I would love a day without tears.
When I say that I don’t know what I will do if we can’t have a family, I am not over reacting. I am aware I have much to be thankful for and far more than many women. I have a husband. I have a job. I have beautiful and sassy cats. I have a home, food on my table, family and friends who love me. I have all of that. But none of those things or people fill the need for a child.
Last night was the first time I vocalized these feelings. I feel guilty for having them. I feel angry at myself for letting them out. I feel like a pile of shit because they made him cry.
Then I went to the bathroom and injected myself again. This tiny glimmer of hope in a pre-loaded syringe. Maybe…
I go back to Dr. A tomorrow morning to see if there has been any change.