Unfairness smacks me in the face

As many people going through this struggle will tell you, it's just not fair!!! Unfairness is one of the first sentiments that comes quickly when you begin to realize that getting pregnant is not going to be very easy for you.

You feel like, "How the hell can all those crack-whores get pregnant so often and so easily, while I, healthy, unaddicted, stable income earner who has a nice roof over my head and is in a loving partnership be barren? What the fuck? How is this even fair? WORLD.. do you hear me??? ITS NOT FAIR!!!!!!!"

And as you work through the grief cycle, you know, the good old Kubler-Ross stages of Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance, you do come realize that either 1) The world isn't fair, so suck it up, this is just one of those things in your life that isn't going to go as planned or 2) Fairness really has nothing to do with the reason you aren't getting pregnant because if that were the case, the crack-whores wouldn't have babies, and I would.

And you cycle through these stages in 2 ways... monthly, whenever good old "aunt flo" shows, as well as a nice long 2-3 yr cycle or so as the overarching theme of being infertile gradually sets in because after all, month after month you aren't getting pregnant.

So where am I you ask? I'd like to say I'm pretty close to the acceptance stage, but waver in depression once in a while. I know that this is my journey to travel (ie, no more deinal.. i think 3 years is good enough to let that set in, huh?) and I don't feel bitter towards others who do get pregnant any more (that much) and I have stopped bargaining with the world (please give me a baby, and i promise i'll never read gossip magazines again). So while depression lingers from time to time, for the most part I can live happily (somewhat) in the present as we try to figure out how our family will come into existence.

But tonight, at dinner, Unfairness (ie, the anger piece) came back and smacked me upside the head. We were settling up our bill at the local Mexican restaurant and a woman comes in, not outwardly drunk, but just slightly disheveled enough for me to take notice. She says to the bartender, "Hey! You got 2 for 1 margarita's tonight?" and he replies, "No, but they are half priced." (Get it? It even took me a second.. lol) So she says, "Great, hold on, let me get my son and his friend"). And I'm thinking maybe she has a son who's old enough to drink and they are out celebrating something, some kind of rosy happy reason why a mom and a son would be drinking in a bar together...

But no... no... silly me... there she was, sidling up to the bar, with her middle-school aged, somewhat over-weight, shy and embarrassed looking son in tow, to knock back a few.  And the guy who was ringing up our bill said to us that last time she was in, thing got a little loud. And my heart sunk, because Unfairness had not only smacked me in the face, but ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped it all over the floor... and was probably doing the exact same thing to that little boy. And all I could think was...  please! Please! someone come rescue that little boy and hold him and tell him that his life is going to be ok and his mom isn't doing this because of him, and it's not his fault. And tell him that he should be experiencing a totally different childhood. One filled with a nurturing mother who is there to help him with his school work and cheer him on at his sporting events.... And yes, I do realize that maybe I'm taking the fantasy of this little boy's life a little too far in my head, since I really don't know what is going on, but mostly, I think of all the love and care and comfort and confidence that I can give to child and there is no way in hell I would ever drag my son into a bar to make him watch me get drunk.

And all over again, I think how truly unfair this infertility burden can be when we are faced with all of these tragedies.  And I think to myself, please, won't someone listen to me? When is this joke going to be over? When are we going to get to have a baby of our own, because surely, if that woman can have one, why can't I???

And that's the story of Unfairness smacking me in the face.

And I'll make my way back to Acceptance again soon I know, but every so often, Unfairness has to step back in to remind me its still around.

A Plea to my family & friends...

There is a woman who lives in our neighborhood. I see her walking along the sidewalk pushing a baby carriage and sometimes holding a baby wrapped up in a blanket. She walks a lot with her baby. In fact, I saw her today as I was driving home from the grocery store.

The thing is.... the baby isn't real. I think its her little dog. I think she wraps her dog up in a baby blanket and walks with it in her arms and pushes it in an old fashioned baby carriage.

When I saw her today, I smiled and thought it was sweet but a bit strange and then I thought... oh my god.. PLEASE DON'T LET ME BECOME THIS!

And that is my plea.

By the way...this post is supposed to be somewhat funny. Not as sad or pathetic as it could be interpreted :-)

Wavering in perspective

I waver in my perspective.

From one point of view, I've been on this journey for so long and I feel saddened by the efforts behind us that have failed. I feel a sense of finality, closure and defeat looms.

But turning around and facing a different direction, I see new hope and stories all around me of success after a long battle. I feel spring entering my home and want it to fill my body. I want to embrace the present with joy and hope for the future.

It's a constant battle. Which side should I look at. Of course we know the answer to that, but as soon as I feel positive about my next steps, the other side pulls me around and grabs me into a dark and gloomy place. Sure enough, I climb my way back out and light begins to shine again, only to fall around again into despair.

But today, there is a sign of spring in my yard, so for now, I will attempt to face in the right direction.

I'm not very happy with you today, Infertility!

I promise one day soon, one of my posts will be a bit more uplifting, but right now, I just have to tell it like it is...

In some ways, I want to thank infertility for helping me become a different person. I'm overall a more peaceful person and I have found my true self again. Things that used to matter and make me anxious don't, because they simply aren't important. The present moment is the only thing that is. And I would not have learned these lessons or had this transformation without this experience.

However, I HATE infertility for making those that love me, hurt. And I HATE infertility the most for making B hurt. I can handle the hurt. I've done it for 3 years. Its not easy, but I know how to live in it. I know how to function. I know how to let it be my pain and know I will feel better in a few hours, days.. whatever. But I don't know how to make B's pain go away.

I think I get it now... I think I get that frustration I've seen in him for years, that helplessness of , "Why can't I make my wife stop crying." or "Why doesn't anything I do help her."

Emotion is simply something you experience and you have to let it work its way through you. And you have to know that you didn't feel that emotion before, and in a while it will be gone, or less, or milder, and eventually you will experience another type of emotion. While you sometimes want someone else to fix it and make it all better, in this situation, there is little that anyone can say to make it better.(Except for "It's positive", or "I'm pregnant", or "Your boys can swim!!!!!)

Today, B has been bombarded with people at work who are either giving birth, very pregnant, or just announcing that their wife is pregnat. And its too much at once. It reminds me of the day a few years ago when I found out at work that 5 people were pregnant.. IN ONE DAY!!!.

So, I am scolding you today Infertility, for making B hurt.

Bad, Bad Infertility... Bad!

3 Years and a Decision

With the passing of February, we've now been trying to concieve our child for 3 years. That's about 36 tries. As I type this out, 36 doesn't really seem like THAT many, but it feels like ages and ages since we started on this journey. Some in the infertility world would say 3 years is nothing, but right now I'm not even sure I can remember who I was before all of this began...

Actually, I do remember. It was November '06 and B and I made the decision to to start trying the following February. We were heading to a warm, sunny spot over the Christmas holiday and I didn't want to be pregnant because I wanted to drink, and enjoy all the fun things that I couldn't had I been pregnant. How silly was I, huh? Oh, and well, I wanted to wait until the end of February, so that being pregnant wouldn't interfere w/ me taking my November '07 actuarial exam. Because, I thought, I could plan around those things. So we tried for a year, on and off, taking off those months that would be due dates would run into trouble with May and November exams.

And when we didn't get pregnant by the end of '07, I thought, oh well, let's just go to the RE and no biggie, we'll be pregnant in no time... A few pills or shots, a squirt, a whirl and a probe...some waiting and pee-ing on sticks.. and wham... problem solved...

How naive I was. And sometimes how I wish I was still that naive. But unfortunately, I am not. And I would not relive these last 2 years of my life using ART (Assisted Reproductive Technology = IUIs, IVF, FET, ....) for any amount of money.

So we made the decision... We're done... Finished... NO MORE ART...  The only thing that can get us pregnant at this point is the good old fashioned method, plus some stinky Chinese herbs...

...and I'm terrified, sad, in shock that I'm actually here. No more walls in front of me to block an empty view or a view of a reality that I'm not sure I'm ready to deal with. But I can't hide behind the walls anymore and I certainly can't pay all of that money again to have no baby result with no further hope from the doctors. And I finally have my body back into shape and balance after tormenting it with hormones and needles for 2 years.

So we're done. Some anniversary, huh?