Understanding

If you are wondering at times why I say or do certain things. It's because I'm broken.  I'm flawed in character.  You can substitute the word broken for infertile at any time.  I like to be honest as most of you that have been following along since the beginning realize.  There is no filter on these lips 90% of the time. "She get it from her momma."   I never ask or want sympathy.  Just an understanding.  So sorry if I come off as a pity party for one.  It seems those days happen a lot around here starting on CD 29, so forgive me and my broken, "unexplained" private parts.  When you fight to overcome something again and again with the same negative results, it becomes annoying after awhile.  Like stepping in chewing gum or hitting all the red lights in town.  When you keep fighting and keep ending up with the same results in particularly a big fat negative result for many years, you become broken.  I feel like I'm a VHS tape in a bluray world.  Getting older each cycle that passes ((whispers soon to be 33)).  I have everything on film. Just not the capability to play it.  Its just not going to work.  Just like my stupid ovaries.  Broken.

Sadness.
Yesterday I felt sad to say the least.  I walked around like a robot. No emotions not even a fake smile.  Except sadness.  As I walked through a store everything around me was moving fast and I felt like I was stuck in slow motion. There is no noise. Just muffled voices.  It sounds like I am underwater but I am on dry land.  I'm pretty sure I had a conversation with an old lady about my dogs while getting food for them.  But I have no idea what she said. I think she has a poodle? Sorry old poodle lady in Walmart. I just wanted dog food and to go home and crawl in bed and never to leave until my husband comes home.  I nod my head during conversations with random people to be on the safe side.  A nod could mean anything so we are going to stick with that until I come out of this.  My emotions are blocking everything out like a clogged artery to my brain. Except sadness of course. My dear friend Chelsea(Starbucks peace and....blog) describe sadness in her blog post from March perfectly. I ask you to read the whole post to get a better grasp on why she wrote it. But here is just a paragraph on exactly how sadness feels.

Infertility has a range of emotions that comes with it – many that you have seen in past blogs: Worry, frustration, pain (physical and mental), joy, sorrow, excitement, celebration … and now, sadness. To those that haven’t experienced the sadness I am talking about, may be confused with how “sadness” differs from “sorrow” or “grief”, but it just does. The kind of sadness I am talking about feels like a big blanket that just wraps around you. It doesn't make you feel incapacitated or hits you violently – it is just there, like a gentle linger of pain. It becomes a sixth sense. Sometimes this sadness feels like you can taste it, feel it, touch it. The awareness of the sadness makes you want to cry, out of pure sympathy for yourself that you feel so … sad.

I am no fortune teller or psychic by any means. I don't believe in those things either. Sorry if you think you're a mind reader or the next Long Island Medium. You can just stop reading and predict the rest of this post if that's the case. I will tell you how it goes in a brief summary. 

Sad. Boring. Makes a joke. Back to being sad. A Gif.  Poor her. Makes another joke. Something about her vagina. Complaining about complainers. A funny Gif. Opinions about feelings.  Inspirational quote.  

Your welcome. 

The future.
I was talking to a friend recently and it brought me to realize something about infertility. You never "beat" it. You only find your way around it. I will always be the infertile girl or mother. Heck I may always be the "infertile Aunt who couldn't have kids."  I sure as hell hope not. But the odds are stacked pretty high and I am sitting on the wrong side of the table right now. Will I ever get a royal flush?  I'd settle for a pair at this point. All I've felt like I've been doing for years is folding every month.  Will I ever forget this journey?  My answer is no.

"Even if you find your way around and end up with a miracle somehow?" 

Still no. I wish I could say yes. That I will forget the pain, the struggles and the lonely nights crying or the thousands of  times spent avoiding social anything.  The numbness, grief, physical side effects, the sadness, or the financial lottery we play.  Lets not forget about many of my girlfriends that will still be struggling if and when I do become pregnant.  Or the millions that I know are out there struggling in silence.  I am not at that point in my life where I can say I will "get over it" or simply forget.  I wish one day I will, God willing, have a child biologically or not, that can simply make me forget.  Who would want to dwell on misery? Not this girl. I find it hard to believe it will be that easy no matter how much love I have for him or her. Will I still be miserable? Of course not.  My heart will be filled with so much joy and happiness, sadness will have no room.  I think having a child will remind me of what it took to get  him or her in my arms.  So will I forget? Until that time comes my answer will be no. An appreciative, grateful, giving thanks reminder that is. Thank you for keeping me up all night.  Thank you for my stretch marks. Thank you for my morning sickness. Thank you for throwing up in my mouth because I was pretending you were an airplane too soon after you ate.  Thank you for pooping and painting yourself and your crib with it. Thank you for no sleep.  I think we get the point.

Lastly, I write this defending not only myself but my sisters who are suffering along with me.  I cannot just bite my tongue and be the better person.  If someone has to be the bad guy, let it be me.

I know pregnancy and parenthood is and can be miserable for a lot of women.  I never said it wasn't.  I am not a naive, idiotic, infertile women who lives under a rock and has never been related to or around a pregnant woman.   I most definitely never said it was "glitter and rainbows" like someone said on, need I say, Facebook.((gag me))  Hence why I only check my notifications but slipped up creating another account.  If you're reading this blog and you are one of those "social media sympathy junkies", and get easily offended by my posts, pregnant or not.  Simply do not read my blog.  I never said you have no right to freedom of speech or to complain about your left nipple being bigger than your right because your knocked up or if your having a bad year.  I simply asked you to "know your audience and be a decent human being." Telling me I know nothing about being pregnant, that just makes you look heartless and like a fool.  You're kind of stating the obvious.  Infertile over here.   Please unfollow or block me if its taken you that long to realize this after my 27th post on infertility.  No judgement will be passed. Libertarian for the hundredth time.  If  I am ever blessed with becoming pregnant just know I will never forget the road it took to get me there. I will be forever thankful. No glitter and no rainbows. Cankles and stretch marks galore.  While complaining you might have forgotten that us dumb "infertiles" are shot up with fertility drugs, aka(pregnancy hormones just to start) for years at a time.  And no I don't feel the undying urge to complain on Facebook or to the public about my side effects and symptoms that only end in devastation over and over again.  That's what my husband  is for(god bless him) .

Just remember when your spouting out how miserable you are to the world during your pregnancy or parenthood or how you have the right to complain.  The millions of women, like below, who are being pushed out of a hospital by their spouses after suffering a miscarriage.  Furthermore, unlike the movie, many of these woman have paid the cost financially, physically and emotionally repeatedly.  Sometimes even paying for a D&C.  I would suggest you have a little bit of grace and humanity until you have your baby in your arms.  Because what if the tables were turned my dear? What if........?

Ps....Still not pregnant.