In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week, I followed the lead of a friend and outed myself on fac.eb.ook.
Like, totally outed myself. And I even changed my security for that ONE POST so that EVERYONE could see it. It was a brief post, but included length of time, cycle count, miscarriages, surgeries, and how many/what treatments we have done.
I feel very exposed. My family and close friends have known all along. But fac.eb.ook? That's a totally different thing.
But... I'm glad I did it. Please read this article and see if you feel inspired to share publicly. Maybe just a neighbor, or a co-worker. The point is: We NEED to talk about this.
You know those days that knock you off your feet for no apparent reason? When you wake up feeling sad, alone, and completely hopeless? I know you do. Infertility is such a soul-sucking thing to experience. There have been many, many days that I didn't want to get out of bed. For the most part, I'm getting over that, but it's not easy.
And now, I feel kind of trapped. I am an infertile woman living in a pregnant body. How weird is that?!? I feel lost. I'm stuck between two "me's" - the pregnant me, that annoys the crap out of the infertile me, and the infertile me that the pregnant me wants to punch in the face and tell to "snap out of it!"
I guess I figured that pregnancy would be all sunshine and rainbows. And it SHOULD BE!! I have absolutely nothing to complain about. My body is functioning as it should, my baby is growing perfectly, and everything is going exactly as it "should". But part of me is so miserable. I didn't think it was possible to be jealous of yourself, but I guarantee that it is.
I am beginning to hate blogging. I constantly fight with myself about what I should share in this space. The truth: I am majorly uncomfortable talking about my pregnancy. It makes me cringe to even think about. And yet, I feel that if I don't it's the same thing as me giving the finger to this whole miraculous event. It's like not saying "thank you", ya know? I don't want to come off as this ungrateful bitch. And yet, if I do post about it I feel like I'm telling everyone still struggling to eff-off (the infertile me included). And the kicker is, I know that this dilemma is completely self-inflicted. I know that I don't have to share anything I don't want to, and I know that this is my space and that if someone doesn't want to read they have the choice to click away. But still... I can't find a happy medium.
I really don't know how to be. 8 years. I have had the life taken from me for the last eight. years. How did I expect to feel if this ever happened? Instantly healed? As if this whole ordeal wasn't that big of a deal? How very, very naive of me.
And no, I am not walking around depressed and melancholy all the time. I just don't want to be the one to make that woman who is struggling cry. I remember those days so clearly; walking through the grocery store and seeing a very pregnant woman with her toddler in the cart, and school-aged child walking beside her, and wondering "why her?" Or what was even worse, noticing a woman who looked to be about as far along as I "should" have been after any of my losses, just another reminder of what I almost had. It kills me to know that there are probably those out there who are looking at me now, the same way as I did those women. I am not oblivious.
Why is this the way that God chose to teach me that life isn't fair?
I have no desire whatsoever to "flaunt" my belly, or bring attention to myself at all. I hate it when strangers notice that I am pregnant and ask me questions. I just want to enjoy this privately; have my cake and eat it too.
I wonder if I will ever get over this. Is there such a thing?
For those of you reading who want to slap me, please do so (figuratively of course.) I know that I have no right to complain. It's just one of those days. And for those of you who are still struggling, please know that I haven't forgotten about you, and that I think of you so very very often. I heard this today and it instantly made me think of all those really hard days. The ones that drain you so completely that you can barely muster the strength to stand. I will never forget those days. They still hurt.
This song is by an LDS ("mormon") artist, Hilary Weeks.
Just Let Me Cry
I believe that everything happens for a reason.
We’re not just tossed by the wind,
or left in the hands of fate.
But sometimes life sends a storm that’s unexpected.
And we’re forced to face our deepest pain.
When I feel the heartache begin to pull me under...
I dig my heels in deep,
and I fight to keep my ground.
Still, at times the hurt inside grows stronger.
And there’s nothing I can do but let out...
Just let me cry.
I know it’s hard to see.
But the pain I feel isn’t going away today.
Just let me cry.
Till every tear has fallen.
Don’t ask when...
and don’t ask why.
Just let me cry.
When I agreed that God could put this heart inside me.
I understood that there would be a chance that it would break.
Yes, this was actually said to me. Okay, well not to me but to DH - about me. The word "fat" was substituted for "big" when it was said directly to me.
But don't worry. I still love the person who said it. After all, she's IS my grandma! LOL
So, apparently my belly has finally decided to announce this pregnancy. So far I have gone to maternity pants, back to my normal clothes, and now heading back to maternity. DH told me today that I can no longer hide it now that thing are beginning to round out. (Not that I've been trying to hide anything.)
Tonight was probably the most mortifying experience I have had so far. I went bra shopping. Not because my bras aren't fitting, but because I'm tired of being stabbed with escaping underwires, and I decided to move on to a nursing bra. (No, it's not too early. Trust me. I have overachieving ta-ta's. Nursing pads are already needed.)
I began with my normal size. Too small.
I moved up a band size. Needed a bigger cup (!!)
Moved to a bigger cup. Still too small.
Then I was measured.
OH. MY. HELL.
I am in an "F", girls. A. FREAKING. EFF!!!
I almost cried. Then I laughed. Then I showed DH (who asked if he could brag). Then I almost cried again when I realized that this is not the size I will end up as. (I went up almost 3 cup sizes after my milk came in with LJ.)
You know why this sucks, right? Not only is this an incredibly hard size to find... but I AM GOING TO END UP WITH BOOBS THAT SAG TO MY ANKLES and I'm not even 30 yet! I do not want to be one of those women who have to roll their boobs up just so they can fit them in a bra! I can see it now. My bra will look like 2 tube socks sewn to some straps.
Go ahead. Laugh. I am. (kinda)
Before and After.
Honestly, I don't care that much. I was just super embarrassed. At least I got a great deal! 2 bras for $40 bucks ain't bad! =)
