I'm trying really hard to look at all of this from a positive angle, trying to be optimistic and hopeful, reminding myself that I'm young and our long term chances are good if we continue with treatment options. I'm trying to believe that this cycle will work, and if it doesn't, that I'm okay with taking a long break and pursuing IVF.
The sum of the emotions, though, on any given day is overwhelming.
I'm sad. I'm so sad that somehow we're broken. I'm sad that we can't seem to do this on our own. I'm sad that we don't have a child yet. My empty arms ache, and I look every day in the mirror at my flat stomach wishing it had a few more stretch marks. I feel broken and I don't know what's wrong or how to fix it. I'm sad that I've spent months, and the entirety of 2013, counting life by in cycle days and days past ovulation, wishing and hoping for a dream that has failed to materialize. I wish my life by in 2 week increments, and I am sad that I literally can't seem to stop myself and smell the roses most days.
I'm angry. I'm angry that we have to spend money to get what people get so easily, many of those people who don't try or don't care or don't want it nearly as much as we do. I'm angry that this isn't considered a condition that health insurance should cover. I'm angry that artificial reproductive therapy is still somehow controversial - when I hear people say their families don't support their choices to pursue fertility treatment, it's infuriating. Well, I don't support that someone has to deal with the pain of infertility, so there's that, too.
I'm hurt. I'm hurt that people don't get it, even if they care. Friends who make statements that hurt when they're just trying to help or not thinking of how their words will fall on my ears - anecdotes about people who tried forever and adopted and got pregnant, or off hand comments joking about how they might get pregnant by accident on a weekend trip with their husband, or trying to comfort by assuring me that I'll have a baby before I know it. Really? Before I know it? Because I think I know how long I haven't had a baby. Because I am very much aware that we've been trying for 20 months, and off birth control for 25 months, and that at this point, we've got less than a 5% chance on our own each month. To get a halfway decent chance, which still isn't as good as your average fertile person trying on their own, we have to pay close to $1k each month. I have to jab myself with needles and put my feet in stirrups and deal with all sorts of discomforts and inconveniences.
I'm scared. I'm so scared of everything. This is my overwhelming emotion. I'm scared that I'll never have a biological child, that we'll spend thousands upon thousands of dollars and end up at the end of the road without a child. I'm scared that even when I process the grief and move on to adoption, either embryo adoption or foster-to-adopt, that it won't work or that I'll never have a newborn to bring home, that I'll never get that experience. I'm scared of all the money and pain. I'm scared of my own mental health as we continue down this path - I'm not sure how strong I am. I try so hard to put on a brave face, but I'm so very scared.
I'm lost. My biggest dream in life has always been to have children. Early on, I chose to put my own career on the back burner to follow my husband's job, knowing that it would be nearly impossible for me to climb a career ladder with all the moves required by his job. Also, we both wanted me to be a stay-at-home Mom once we had children, so it made sense. My job was supposed to be to be a mother, and I just feel so useless. I don't want to go climb on another career ladder just because I can't seem to have a baby. I don't want a different job, I just want to be a mother.
I'm grateful. I'm grateful that my marriage is strong, that I married such a wonderful man who is supportive and understanding (at least as much as you could reasonably expect any other human being to be when I am such a crazy emotional mess). I'm grateful that he's open to all possibilities in family building, so I know that we will somehow, someday be parents. I'm grateful that we can afford the treatment, that our insurance covers more than I expected, and that we've got the funds to try what we need to try for as long as necessary to somehow end up as parents. I'm grateful that we adopted this dog 2.5 years ago. She's my darling and I can't imagine not having her to cuddle with on my worst days.
I'm confused. I'm not sure how this will all feel when it's over, whichever way and whenever it may end. I don't know why we're in this position - no doctor has been able to even give me a list of possible reasons why we haven't conceived, just "unexplained". I'm so confused why us, why me. I've thought out every possible issue and solution, but there's no solid answers. But regardless, eventually this journey will have an end, and I'm just not sure how that will be. For the two days last cycle that I thought I was pregnant, it was so surreal and confusing. I've spent a long time gathering information on infertility and making plans on how to deal with it - what will I do when that information isn't necessary anymore and it's time to start a new path? I suppose I start from scratch on researching pregnancy and early childhood education. It seems so weird that while I may always be infertile, I won't always be actively trying to conceive. Being infertile, as much as I hate it, has oddly become part of who I am. I'm not sure to what extend that's good or bad, but it's true.
I'm hopeful. On my good days, I remember that someday I will be a parent. I have no idea how that will happen, or who that child will be, but I know how important that is to both of us. We have a real chance this cycle, though sometimes I feel like I've emotionally written it off so that I can start actively preparing myself to take the next step - a 5 month break followed by IVF. Oddly, I think I'm even more hopeful for our break than this cycle. It will be nice to feel like myself again, not peeing on sticks (my husband will hide them at his office so I'm not tempted by OPKs or HPTs). I'm sure we'll still aim for good timing and take vitamins, but no high stress and no medical intervention. As no doctor has given us a reason we can't conceive on our own, it's entirely possible that we will. And if we get to the end of those 5 months without conceiving, I'll be certain we've tried everything we could before pursuing IVF. And we will have hopefully saved enough to pay for our cycle up front out of pocket.
I'm overwhelmed. This journey is all consuming, and it's seemingly impossible to turn my brain off from the constant hum of thoughts about infertility and what it means and how to fix it. The treatment involves lots of visits up to my doctors, which makes it impossible to plan visits to friends or trips out of town during treatment cycles. I'm tired and sick of being a pincushion. I'm really looking forward to our break cycles to recharge.
I'm proud. I'm learning how to deal with the overwhelming emotions of this process. I've found a good psychologist, though it took a few duds to find a good one, who is a great source of support on my worst days. He's sympathetic without being condescending. I'm better at communicating what I need and how I feel about certain things. Even when friends recently announced a pregnancy, which I know for a fact happened their first month trying, I only cried for about 10 seconds and then I pulled it together and enjoyed the rest of my day. To normal people, that may not sound like much, but it's a huge accomplishment to me, when previously other people's happy news would send me spiraling down into the "why not me?!" cave of despair. I'm open and honest about our struggles, which I feel like makes infertility less of a taboo subject. I hate that in some ways I've become "the infertile girl" but I like to think that I'm putting a face to a very real struggle that many people have, and by being open, I can make positive strides in educating people about how to talk about and deal with infertility in a sensitive way.
On any given day, at any given moment, these emotions are all jumping over one another to get to the front of my attention. For half a second, I'm proud, but then I get sad and scared. And then I'm happy and hopeful. And then I'm angry and overwhelmed. It certainly doesn't stop in the middle of the night - I am certainly infertile in my dreams, too, and often toss and turn with worries and concerns. The only way I can quiet the voices is to go for a run, which I can't do during much of my cycle while medicated.
Right now, I'm somewhat over this cycle and this doctor (especially the 2 hour drives each way). I don't have much hope for this IUI, though a little bit creeps in around the edges sometimes. But I'm looking forward in many ways to having some months off, and in some ways I'm looking forward to IVF and its greater chances and control over the process. I'm hopeful, not so much for this cycle but for my long term chances of being a mother. I believe I'll have a baby in 2015, and right now at least, I believe we'll get pregnant with our biological child before the end of 2014. That's what I'm clinging to for today.
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