Sometimes things suck so massively that there just isn’t any way to put a positive spin on them. Believe me, I try. I’m usually a life-is-beautiful, everything-works-out-in-the-end, YAY FOR ALL THE THINGS! kind of girl. But, not so much right now. Schmoopy and I had this conversation several times this weekend. He’s the realist. I’m the hopefull one. He likes it that way & usually I do, too.
Right now, I’m a hope-is-for-suckers kind of chick. I’m one of those everything-sucks kind of people today. And I’m perfectly okay with that. Because stuff sucks sometimes. People say stupid things. Nothing goes the way you want it to. I’m not pregnant AGAIN, I have strep, and my back is about to go out.
On Saturday, it became obvious that our last IUI didn’t work. That was confirmed on Sunday. I’m done for a while. Done with being happy. Done with hope. Done with the stupid roller coaster that is infertility.
I don’t trust my body to do the right thing. I don’t trust my body enough to invest the time, emotional toll, or huge dollar amount needed for IVF. It might not work. It might work and I could have another miscarriage. It might work and we could have a healthy baby or two. I’m no math genius, but the odds don’t look so hot. I just don’t believe that this is going to work for us. So I’m waiting to confirm a few things with our doctor and I’m ready to call it. Throw in the towel. Be a quitter (which seems to be a theme with me lately and I still don’t regret any of my recent quits!).
Friends who were in the same infertility boat as us have now had a successful pregnancy (or two or three) or have successfully adopted. We are happy for them. Truly. But, the bottom line is, that doesn’t get us our baby. That doesn’t make me stop hating the parts of my body that don’t work. It doesn’t fix anything. I know, I promise, really I know, that I need to be a good friend and support all of the people we love who are new parents or expectant parents, but I might need to do it with a bit of distance. I might not be able to go to baby showers yet (I haven’t been to one since my 2010 miscarriage at 14 weeks and I don’t know if I’m ready yet). I’m trying not to be a selfish brat, but at the same time I’m trying to protect myself from seriously considering staying in bed all day every day.
Who knows, I might feel better in a week, feel infinitely hopeful again, make peace with the broken parts of me, and be ready to go for it again.
But, until that happens, here’s what you can do to help:
Here is a list of things I don’t want to hear from ANYONE EVER:
It’s okay (because not even one little bit of this is okay)
Stop trying and you’ll get pregnant (that is both total b.s. & so freaking hurtful)
I know, read, heard that …. (you, just like me, don’t know much about this–geez, even the doctors don’t know a whole lot, really)
Everything happens for a reason (might be true, but totally not helpful, & the reason pretty much sucks to me right now)
Cheer up (or anything that sounds like that. I’m really effing sad & there’s nothing wrong with being sad)
My friend (sister, cousin, lady at church, whoever) did xyz and it worked (please don’t throw other people’s good fortune in my face. It feels like you are, which you probably aren’t, so just don’t)
Here are some things that you can do:
Pray for us (it helps infinitely)
Let me know if you know anything about adoption (we are seriously thinking that adoption might be the right path for us)
Respect my right to be sad for a while.
Love your pregnancy and your kids a million times more than you even think is possible. Even when you are puking and feeling horrible (I’d love to be that sick right now-you are making a person, deal with it), even when they drive you totally insane (because they are such a beautiful gift), even you are exhausted and worn out and just don’t know anymore (be thankful for every second of parenthood, no matter how difficult it may be)
Yep, this was a rant. It’s over now.
It didn’t make me feel much better and I probably offended several people, but what’s done is done.