I can’t sleep. I know that it’s mostly because of the migraine medicine I took several hours ago (which has tons of caffeine in it) but it’s also because I have so many jumbled thoughts scrambling around in my mind.
I feel like people must be tired of listening to me by now. I’m even kind of tired of listening to me at this point. I feel like I talk about it less and less, because I’ve already said it all, again and again, and it’s so old and tiresome.
Even though we’ve been trying unsuccessfully for nearly 4 years to have a child, for a long time I didn’t consider myself “infertile.” All my tests checked out fine and the only issue appeared to be with some less-than-perfect sperm. I honestly thought it would be a mater of time and a few rounds of fairly minor and not very invasive fertility treatments. I couldn’t totally relate to people who called themselves Infertiles, even though I could totally relate to what they were going through for the most part.
But now I feel that I’m really in that category and I feel that I must have some “blame” in this, even though blame really isn’t the right word.
I feel broken and I feel defective and I feel like I’m somehow not as good as other women. I know, rationally, that this is ridiculous, but I still feel this way. I can write about this inner strength that I had never realized I had, but I feel that I don’t measure up to the people who can accomplish this basic, simple human function. I feel like they matter more than me.
I know this is stupid but these feelings creep in and poke my heart and tell me there is something majorly wrong with me.
Other people have no way of understanding this. They’ll tell me that I’m wrong, and I’ll tell them that that’s true, because I know that. But I can’t help feeling like this.
We used to see a baby at the end of this long, dark tunnel. We used to have dreams and make plans. We talked about nursery plans and diapers and what it would be like. We even bought stuff. Cute baby stuff. It used to give me hope and happy thoughts. Now it just sits in closets and mocks me. Now we see surgeries and needles and doctors and operating rooms. We can dream about a positive blood test, but anything beyond that seems unrealistic and completely out of reach. Actually having a baby some day just seems like a carrot on a long, seemingly never ending stick. It seems like that will always be for other people.
Some days I don’t know what keeps me going on this path. The future is cloudy. Sometimes I wonder if it’s just because we’ve been on it so long, we don’t want to give up and let all four years be for absolutely nothing. I don’t know what our ending is and I don’t even know when it is anymore.
For now I’m left with rambling thoughts and trying to avoid the things that make me have them.
Though obviously I’m not doing a good job with that tonight.
IComLeavWe: Join the Conversation
Hey,
Very sorry to hear you’re feeling so bad. I’m not sure if it helps or if you want anybody to give “advice” but I’ll venture anyway, since it helped me.
I’ve been trying to have a baby for 3 years now. Last 2 years, I was feeling thoroughly unhappy the whole time and (I believe now) I on purpose didn’t let myself feel any better because I thought then maybe the Universe won’t see how much I want the baby. Not sure if it makes sense but I felt like that.
Then finally end of last year I thought that clearly, me feeling bad isn’t helping the cause. So I got myself a couple of positive thinking CDs (I got Louise Hay but I’m sure anything would work) and told myself I’ll listen to them for a month every day and if I’m not feeling better I can stop. I also said I would have to go for walks at last half an hour a day 5 times a week (it’s supposed to help against depression). And it has actually helped. And every time a negative thought comes to my head, I make myself think 10 times the opposite – like this I don’t have much time for negative thoughts and it’s impossible to think 2 things at the same time.
Also, every day when I’m walking to work I’m thinking “I am happy, I’m healthy, everything is going my way”. And maybe it doesn’t change the situation, I still don’t have a child, but I’m feeling so much better.
Also, when you say you feel you matter less than people with children, think of all the people who are much less fortunate than you are – people starving in Africa, people in war zones, beaten children, whatever – do they somehow count less? Are they somehow responsible for their misfortune? No! It’s just a coincidence, things sometimes just happen the way they happen and it’s nobody’s fault. C’est la vie, the French say. Yes, people with children have been lucky in that they have children (though it could be they didn’t want them and that they think they’re unlucky because of that, think of teenage mums) but you’re lucky, too! Try to feel better, it feels so much better! Hugs!
I love you lots and lots….please don’t give up. I don’t want to presume to understand those exact feelings that you are having, but I wanted you to know that.
I love you too! Your value to me doesn’t come from what you have (babies or no), it comes from who you are. I wish for you joy that comes from thanksgiving – a good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over and poured into your lap.
(*hugs*) to you. I can relate to feelings of the baby stuff mocking, and feeling like you’re never going to reach the end. We’ve been TTC for 4 years too, and it SUCKS. My mind runs away with me a lot, keeps me up, I get tired of listening to myself because it’s always the same things over and over.
Hang in there.
Here from the Friday Blog Round-Up. . . .
I don’t know your whole story, but I do know that I have shared many of your feelings: not initially identifying with being “infertile,” feeling like people are probably tired of hearing about all this, feeling “broken and defective” and not as good as other (fertile) women.
The seemingly-never-ending-ness of this “journey” is one of the worst things, IMO. It’d be so much easier to accept whatever the outcome will be if we could simply know what or when it would be.
Also here from Mel’s roundup. I’m several years on the other side of our (ultimately successful) family-building struggles, and I can tell you that it won’t always be like this. It took me years to get over my feelings of being betrayed by my body, but time is a potent thing. I am very hopeful for your upcoming IVF cycle. I wish you the very best of luck.
Love you…..and no, I am not tired of hearing about it. I am glad that you are willing to be honest and share this journey with all of us.
Also here from the roundup. I related so much to this post – that feeling of weariness, of just being sick of talking and thinking about it all. I will echo what others have said and say that this doesn’t last forever. One way or another, this time will come to an end and you will be free of that cloudiness and exhaustion. I deeply wish you success on your upcoming IVF and hope that the way forward is easy, clear and filled with joy and light.
I understand your feelings of hurt, loneliness, and inferiority. I have been blessed with children, but I did have a miscarriage with my first child. I know it is not the same, but I do understand how much it hurts to not have a child and to be envious of those who do, and to listen to uncaring and unthoughtful remarks that people make about children.
Only one person can truly make your hurt go away and relieve you of your stress and pain. Try to find it in your heart to truly give this problem to God. Let him carry this burden on his shoulders for you. Let him dry your tears and give you the peace and rest you need. Once you give it to him you will feel so much better. I saw a statement not long ago that said, don’t tell God how big your problems are. Tell your problems how big your God is.
Love you dearly. Alll on God’s timing.
I’m here from the roundup too. I’m a few years behind you in terms of IF, but the beginning of your story sounds a lot like mine. I’m just now discovering IF blogs to help dispel some of the isolation of IF, and this post, in particular, is so helpful. I feel many of the things you’ve described in this post –already I feel like people are tired of listening to me talk about IF and TTC– and it makes me feel less alone to hear someone else who knows these feelings voice them so well. You’re incredibly articulate–please at least have some comfort in knowing that your words are helping the many, many people who feel also feel alone in the IF struggle.
It’s good that you write down what you are feeling and thinking. Not everyone will say the words that will comfort you, or will understand how you feel. There are so many of us who are there for you and have hope for you. Even though we may not say the words that are helpful or comforting sometimes, just know that you and Darek are loved by so many people. I love you and will be there for you this weekend. Mom
Wow… this is so, so right. It took me some time to come around to the word “infertile,” too, mostly because it sounds so final, not like “fertility issues.” Fertility issues can be fixed or treated; “infertility” is like a “never.” Thanks for sharing this with us. <3
Very belatedly here from catching up on Friday Round-ups from weeks past! I’m so sorry you were feeling this way and hope that things have gotten better for you. I know that I finally had to start seeing a counselor that specializes in infertility. It had gotten really bad for me and realized I needed to work through not feeling like my mom was there for me, dealing with what others say, etc. It was well worth that investment and I’m feeling much more peaceful. I wish the same for you!