I wonder how much my tears would all add up to? I’ve had tiny tears, sobbing tears, tears so gigantic I couldn’t seem to breath, angry tears with fists and kicking legs (okay, so yes, I admit I still have tiny temper tantrums), hopeful tears, happy tears, sad tears, and empty tears. Empty tears are ones that I wanted to cry, but there weren’t any left to let out. I cry for my baby I’ve never held; my husband who not only bears his own pain but tries to be strong for me; and for feeling weak myself.
I hate is a strong word. But yes, I hate infertility. Infertility is the most depleting experience I’ve ever faced. It’s slowing draining the life out of me. I wish I didn’t have to go through this and that no on one ever did. In fact, I don’t even wish infertility upon my worst enemy.
I’ve had friends/acquaintances who have gone through infertility at the same time as me. And after they’ve become pregnant – their contact with me lessens or stops. I often wonder if they totally forget those “infertility feelings.” How awesome would that be!?!? But then, the more I think about it – the more I know I don’t want to forget. That’s one reason I began journaling and writing. Even with all the heartache – I don’t want to forget the pain, because it’s made me who I am today…and I’m okay with that.
It’s heartbreaking watching friends and acquaintances have two children between my infertility of three years. I find myself thinking that if we got pregnant the first month we tried, right now we’d have a 2 ½ year old running around right now. Today I’m having a pity party. And I think that’s okay. I’m tired of people telling me HOW and HOW NOT to feel. Today I feel like having a pity party, so that’s what I’m gonna do…
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