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.
I can't speak for everyone, but I know that, for me, when I hear or see a pregnant woman who has struggled with infertility, I want to REJOICE with them!! For some reason, I don't feel sad or jealous when I see someone who has struggled for so long finally get what she has been looking for and what she deserves. Now, when it's just a "regular" pregnant woman, that's a different story ;) You are a ray of light and hope for some infertile women. They can look to you and say, "Wow. It really can happen. And I won't give up hope." You have worked SO long and hard for this. You SHOULD be able to enjoy your belly and all the little moments that pregnancy gives you. I know I am!
I've been lurking around your blog for awhile, but I had to comment on this post! I've been feeling the exact same way, but unable to put it into words. I tried explaining it to my husband last night, but he gave me a blank stare and just shook his head. He feels like now that I'm past the TTC part of this child that I should be happy and content, and maybe I should be. But I can't quite silence the Infertile in me telling me that this is to good to be true. Or that little voice inside my head that says if I complain about anything related to this pregnancy it will all be taken away from me.
Pregnancy after loss is such a difficult journey, I have felt such a broad range of strange emotions since falling pregnant. Half of which I didn't know were in there. I am hoping some of them will fade when my baby is in my arms in August. And I hope the same for you. take care
I imagine that I'd feel the same way, if I ever get to experience what you are. And I have to say that while sometimes it is hard for me to read about IFers who have successful pregnancies (just because it marks the passage of time that I've still been waiting; how selfish is that?) it is always matched by joy for you. And no, that definitely doesn't apply to regular preggos. Anyway, just wanted to say that you writing this is going to be helpful to someone (hopefully me!) who will follow in your shoes and feel the same things. And pregnant or not, you are loved ;)
Girl, we are so on the same page! I feel the same way, especially about my now obvious belly and the questions it inspires.
As others have already said, I think sharing your story gives hope to others. You prove that there really is hope even for people who've been struggling for a really loooong time!
Wow, that's pretty much hitting the nail on the head - an infertile woman trapped in a pregnant woman's body. I like that, I think you should copyright that and lease it out.
Now I am an infertile trapped in a mom body, and as you know from the experience of the secondary infertility thing, any teansy feeling of less than full rewarding experience with my children leaves me with heavy guilt for days. I guess what I am saying is a very douchy, "get used to it" or "it is normal", because yea. I was there, I am there.
6 comments:
I can't speak for everyone, but I know that, for me, when I hear or see a pregnant woman who has struggled with infertility, I want to REJOICE with them!! For some reason, I don't feel sad or jealous when I see someone who has struggled for so long finally get what she has been looking for and what she deserves. Now, when it's just a "regular" pregnant woman, that's a different story ;) You are a ray of light and hope for some infertile women. They can look to you and say, "Wow. It really can happen. And I won't give up hope." You have worked SO long and hard for this. You SHOULD be able to enjoy your belly and all the little moments that pregnancy gives you. I know I am!
I've been lurking around your blog for awhile, but I had to comment on this post! I've been feeling the exact same way, but unable to put it into words. I tried explaining it to my husband last night, but he gave me a blank stare and just shook his head. He feels like now that I'm past the TTC part of this child that I should be happy and content, and maybe I should be. But I can't quite silence the Infertile in me telling me that this is to good to be true. Or that little voice inside my head that says if I complain about anything related to this pregnancy it will all be taken away from me.
Pregnancy after loss is such a difficult journey, I have felt such a broad range of strange emotions since falling pregnant. Half of which I didn't know were in there. I am hoping some of them will fade when my baby is in my arms in August. And I hope the same for you.
take care
I imagine that I'd feel the same way, if I ever get to experience what you are. And I have to say that while sometimes it is hard for me to read about IFers who have successful pregnancies (just because it marks the passage of time that I've still been waiting; how selfish is that?) it is always matched by joy for you. And no, that definitely doesn't apply to regular preggos.
Anyway, just wanted to say that you writing this is going to be helpful to someone (hopefully me!) who will follow in your shoes and feel the same things. And pregnant or not, you are loved ;)
Girl, we are so on the same page! I feel the same way, especially about my now obvious belly and the questions it inspires.
As others have already said, I think sharing your story gives hope to others. You prove that there really is hope even for people who've been struggling for a really loooong time!
Wow, that's pretty much hitting the nail on the head - an infertile woman trapped in a pregnant woman's body. I like that, I think you should copyright that and lease it out.
Now I am an infertile trapped in a mom body, and as you know from the experience of the secondary infertility thing, any teansy feeling of less than full rewarding experience with my children leaves me with heavy guilt for days. I guess what I am saying is a very douchy, "get used to it" or "it is normal", because yea. I was there, I am there.
Post a Comment