I don’t want to make all my posts about this journey. But this week, well, for the next few months, it’s probably going to be all I can think about. I wake up thinking about it and go to sleep thinking about it. So I thought maybe if I spewed it all out into a blog post, I might be able to stop thinking about it long enough to actually make a baby.
Infertility really sucks. And I’m one of the lucky ones – I already have a gorgeous, happy, healthy child. My heart aches a million times over for women who want a child and can’t have one. If I didn’t already have Nick….I don’t know how I’d be getting through this.
That doesn’t mean it’s ok for people to say to me, “At least you already have one” or “Maybe you should just be happy with what you have?” Believe me I am so happy for what I have, and thankful every damn day that we have him. He is the absolutely light of our lives. But why should that stop me wanting another?
It’s really frustrating not knowing what the problem is. Even with the endometriosis removed, there’s nothing that can say for certain that was the problem. My doctor showed me the endo he removed. It was a tiny spot. So little is really known about how endo can affect women or their fertility. Women with a moderate to severe endo can have zero symptoms. Women with a spot as small as mine can have every symptom. There’s no rhyme or reason, no SENSE to it, which makes it even more frustrating.
It is so hard to see other people fall pregnant at all, let alone see them fall within a couple of months of trying. Or worse still, without trying. It doesn’t mean you’re not happy for them, it just means you have to make a bit more effort to show it. I have actually started to conquer this part. Because I know it has nothing to do with them, it’s my own shortfalls that upset me.
Women who smoke, drink, are overweight, do drugs all seem to be able to fall pregnant. Here I am, the fittest I’ve been since I was a kid, and nadda. W.T.F. I question everything from “Do we drink too much coffee” to “Am I actually ovulating?” (tests would suggest yes, I am, and when I should be). My Dr actually sat down and told me when I would be ovulating at my last appointment. It was all I could do to keep from saying, “Yes, I’ve been trying for 2 years, I’ve got that part figured out, thanks!” Could a woman really be 2 years into TTC and not know when she’s ovulating?
“Just relax” and “Don’t think about it” is terrible, terrible, terrible advice. I can’t tell you enough how awful it is. It is the dumbest thing you can say to someone with infertility problems. If you are reading this, and are guilty of having said it to someone, I forgive you…if you promise to never do it again. “Maybe you don’t want it enough?” is also a really stupid thing to say. Just FYI.
I lay in bed thinking about baby names. I wonder if I want to be pregnant just so I can pick another name! I remember the excitement of finding out Nick was a boy. And running through a million names before settling on his.
We’ve got 3 months. Nothing like putting a deadline on it, because you know, I don’t put enough pressure on myself already. At the end of October we start talking about other options. At which point we have decisions to make and paths to choose. Having to decide to close the door on fertility treatments can not be fun. You start down this path of doctors appointments, exploratory surgeries, forking out money here and there, at what point do you think you’ve done enough? At what point do you “give up”? It’s an awfully big thing to give up on. I thought the last procedure was it, if that didn’t work, we’d accept it and move on. But I am not sure I can just yet.
The last thing I know about infertility is that talking about it and blogging about it doesn’t help. It doesn’t fix anything or change anything. It is probably better to get it all out than to hold on to it, but there have been so many times I wish I’d kept my mouth (and fingers) shut and that no one knew what we were going through. Because it’s no fun to be the one that people are scared to tell when they’re pregnant. It’s no fun to be pitied. My words are coming back to haunt me. Years ago I wanted 5 kids. I finally realised 2, maybe 3 would be better, but when someone asked how many I wanted, I said, “However many I’m blessed with. We don’t really get much choice, we are given what we’re given.” Maybe we’ve already been given ours.
Linking up for Things I Know with Dorothy over at Singular Insantiy