Pulling Me Out of the Depths

I was very depressed last night and this morning about our failed IUI. I ended up telling my mom how it all turned out – they didn’t know that we were doing this cycle – and she was so supportive and understanding. She told my dad who sent me a wonderful e-mail this morning and I think he understood for the first time how incredibly hard this journey has been for us. He was also able to provide some much needed perspective that while we are in a hole, we keep trying to dig ourselves out and this should not be an all consuming problem.

I expressed to him that I couldn’t see my worth without having a child. I see now what a dreadful place to be that was. I managed to trivialize all of my accomplishments up to now by creating a myth that I have to have a child to be a worthy person. My dad helped me see this by pointing out that there are many ways to be a worthy person – not just having a child (and frankly, there are many unworthy people who do have children). So, I suppose it is more about creating my own reality than the myth that I think I should have. My wise therapist has been saying this in various themes, but it is only now really sinking in.

Earlier this evening, I also spent some time randomly cruising other people’s profiles who share similar musical tastes. I found so many women who are my age who are not mothers, but more importantly, are not obsessing about becoming mothers. It was so refreshing to see that there are people out there who aren’t listening to their biological clocks and who are just living their lives, traveling, thinking, blogging, knitting, whatever. I remember now that there is a life outside of infertility. As you might guess, infertility induces tunnel vision, especially when you are 2.5 years into the hole and don’t see much light.

In the past, I really just paid lip service to having other interests and friends, but frankly, everything I did was shrouded, influenced or colored by infertility. It’s still impossible for me to make plans a few months out and not wonder if I will be pregnant. It’s impossible for me to look at a woman with a large belly and not wonder if she’s pregnant. I can’t answer the phone from an old friend and not dread that there is going to be news of bundles of joy being expected on the other end of the line. It’s a terrible way to live.

And, while I know that it is a terrible way to live, I also don’t know how not to live that way right now. Conventional wisdom would have me take a few months off and collect myself. At the moment, I can’t stand the thought of even more delay. Haven’t we waited long enough? I also know, though, that I’m really tired of being depressed and touchy. My compromise? I have to do three weeks of BCP before I get going on IVF. Those three weeks are my vacation of sorts. It would be so wonderful to just be. me. Not infertile me. Not bitter me. Just me. The start of the journey is to recognize that no matter what happens with my reproductive organs, I am still a good person who deserves as much happiness as everyone else. And a dog. A nice furry, bark-y dog.

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