The Eternal Guest Room

I think Father’s Day is this Sunday – although I’m not entirely sure about that.

Father’s Day doesn’t have anything near the effect that Mother’s Day has on me. Probably because there’s not as much hype, it doesn’t affect me quite as personally, and of course I’ll never be a father, so it’s not nearly as painful.

But I’ve realized something over the last year or so: there’s a “hierarchy” of what I find painful to be around. The first is definitely pregnant women, hands down. That just about kills me. The second is probably newborns, but the third isn’t moms with babies; it’s dads with babies.

For some reason it hurts much more to see a father with his baby or young child. I can’t really put my finger on exactly why. Possibly because I have a hard time picturing myself as a mom, but I can totally picture Darek being a dad. Plus, there’s something just terribly sweet about seeing a father interacting with his young child.

This is one of those things that I have a hard time putting into words, because I’m not entirely sure why I feel this way. I just know that when I see a dad playing with his kid in their yard, or see a new dad holding his new baby, I get tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. It makes my heart hurt.

Avoidance is my middle name these days, but I live in the world.

Stupid world.

If this whole thing wasn’t so emotionally draining, I would laugh.

We first saw the RE in September, and we planned to do up to 3 IUIs before the end of 2009.

2010 is nearly halfway over, and we’ve been able to do ONE. (I don’t really count the one we did when I had the polyp.) That’s one realistically possible IUI in 9 months. Now that’s some sobering math.

Cysts, thin lining, and surgery all got their delays in. And then something went weird and put all of the potential IUI days on days when we are going to be out of town.

Our trip to Hawaii knocked one out. A trip to Seattle next month will knock out another one. And the current one is being cancelled because I’ll be out of town for my sister’s wedding.

What??

It’s almost funny – except that it’s not.

The decision to skip this month’s IUI for my sister’s wedding was not an easy one. Ultimately though, it was just too much, and that’s not the way I want to spend the week of my sister’s special day.

So we continue to wait.

This year will be over before we know it.

This might sound really silly to a lot of you – or even just plain horrible. I debated about posting about this, because I know it doesn’t make me look like a good, mature, rational individual, but I’m going to share anyway.

I had a goal. My goal was to be pregnant by my sister’s wedding. My youngest sister (I have 3) is getting married June 12. The thought of going to a major event like that – and a huge gathering of family and friends - while still going through this fills me with dread. My middle sister got married 3 years ago and I had planned to be pregnant by then. And that was 3. Long. Years. Ago.

This has taken over my life. It’s almost all I think about. I don’t feel happy. And that’s not the way I want to be at my sister’s wedding.

I picture my younger sister’s adorable 2 year old daughter throwing flower petals down the aisle, and I know I’ll be thinking “why isn’t my child walking down the aisle with her?”

I wanted to have happy news to share with everyone. I wanted to be full of joy. I wanted this to be behind me. I wanted to be looking ahead.

I feel out of place with my family. That’s not their fault, but it is what it is. It’s one of those things that I can’t really explain – I just feel like the black sheep or something.

I know that I will not make my goal. I will most likely be in the process of having injections every night for a week. We’ll (probably, hopefully) be in the middle of actively doing something, but I won’t be pregnant. I know this.

I’ve been setting goals for years. I won’t list them here, because even thinking about that list makes me tired and teary. But I have spent the last 3 years saying “I will definitely be pregnant by (insert holiday, event, trip, month, someone else’s baby being born, etc. etc. etc.).

Back in January when we were starting our 3-month break, my therapist encouraged me to think positively and assume that I would be 2 or 3 months pregnant by June. That really helped get me through the beginning of the year.

But it didn’t happen.

I have 4 weeks to get it together and suck it up. Mental preparation goes a long way with this. I have 4 weeks to accept it and get ready to not think about it on the big day. I know it will be a hard day for me, but it will be a happy day, full of joy, and I want to fully participate in that joy. So I’m getting ready now.

This was my last goal. I have no more. I will make no more plans.

This is our last year of this, either way. But there will be no more goals.

Not much to report these days. Mother’s day came and went. I felt mostly forgotten, but I survived. We went away for the weekend and it was really, really nice to get away from evertything.

It’s the busy season for my photography business, and that’s helped keep my mind off things. When I think about the infertility side of things, I feel pretty helpless, because there’s not a whole lot I can do. So staying busy is a good distraction, and one I’m thankful for.

We actually came really close to being able to start the IUI process this week. If we’d already had the drugs, if the nurses had gotten back to me sooner, if we were going to Hawaii 2 days later…but of course, with all those “ifs” it isn’t going to happen. My body decided to be really weird and reset itself either 2 weeks early or late – not really sure which. As a result we came really close to being able to move forward, but on the bright side we’ll (hopefully) be able to do an IUI a little earlier than originally planned. On the not-so-bright side, we may have to juggle wedding events during the process.

Figures, right?

So that’s where things are right now. Nothing much.

I was really hoping it wouldn’t come to this.

Here we are again. Another kick in the stomach mother’s day. I remember each of them.

Three years ago I sat in church hopeful and excited and slightly terrified. I remember thinking “Oh my gosh, I’m going to be a mom soon. I could even be pregnant right now!”

Insert rolling of eyes and noises of disgust.

Two years ago I sat in church again, this time thinking “Why did I come here? Why am I torturing myself?” Those of you who are church-goers with IF know what a horrible service that is. The message is pretty clear: Mothers are God’s best and most wonderful people ever. Nothing is as good as being a mom. The mothers are honored, the children bring them flowers, everyone is happy.

I thought I was going to have a complete breakdown in the middle of the sanctuary.

I may never go to church on mother’s day again. Even if we have a child, I think the pain of this will always be with me. There is no greater reminder of what we’ve lost and been through than going to church on mother’s day. When I was in high school I went to a church that emphasized the importance of all women, not just the mothers; I didn’t realize until recently what a blessing that was.

Last year we were “out of town” (though just downtown) with a group of friends. Unfortunately one of them was pregnant, but it was still good to get away.

This year we’re getting out of town, for real just time, just the two of us. I have a feeling we’ll still be bombarded with reminders, but hopefully the wineries will help.

I never appreciated before how alienating the holidays can be for some people. You know that lots of people are alone for Christmas and you know that sucks, but you can’t really grasp how it feels to be in their shoes. Mother’s day is like that too. It really does feel like being punched in the stomach.

This week I’ve gotten at least 20 emails a day reminding me of this weekend. If we watched TV I’m sure I would have been bombarded by sweet, depressing ads. I doubt Hallmark sells cards for people who want to be mothers but can’t/aren’t. It’s a day when we remember how much we’ve been forgotten.

We really hoped that this year would be different. At the very least, we thought we’d have some hope when the day rolled around. I can’t stop thinking about the fact that our IUI would have probably been yesterday or today. It seems so cruel.

I’m actually having second thoughts about this weekend. I’m afraid it’s going to be everywhere. I hate how much this has affected everything about me. I hate that even a simple weekend away involves days of mental preparation. I wish I was stronger. I guess at this point it’s just a matter of making it through just this one year, one at a time.

I just really hope there’s not another year of this.