GAH. What a broken record I have become. Sounding off constantly about not being pregnant, about infertility, about money, about frustration. I am sick of listening to myself. Although, fortunately for those around me, it’s mostly all inside my head.
We’ve got the money now to go through IVF. It’s not long, a month or two. And yet, the waiting is still making me crazy. I know all it takes is patience. But it’s so hard to come by these days after all this hassle and waiting and trying and disappointment. It’s so hard to wait. I get so frustrated and upset when all these people around me are getting pregnant and I am still waiting. Women are having babies and I am still waiting. Trying to be happy for everyone else while I am still waiting. Explaining again and again to people about the infertility treatment process while I am still waiting. It’s hard.
I try not to complain to people anymore. My poor husband gets the worst of it, of course, and he has his own frustrations and impatience too. But people are tired of hearing about it. They were a year ago. So I try not to talk about it to people anymore. It is isolating, but it preserves the relationships I DO have. And mostly, I’m okay with it. It’s just every now and again, it gets to me. I see people walking their new baby and the neighbours cooing over the child, and it kicks me in the stomach. People I was on the trying-to-conceive journey with are getting pregnant in droves and it kicks again. People I know will be abysmal, irresponsible, undeserving parents are having babies, and it kicks once more. I think about the baby that could have been and it kicks, hard. It just reinforces the isolation and the unfairness of it all.
But most of the time, it’s okay. My friends have been so supportive through all this, and that has been really good. During the times I do need to vent, they are always there. Blogging has been helpful too. I have always written when I need to get something out of my system; before, it was in a journal, and now, it’s blogging. I used to post in a forum with other people about trying to conceive, but over the last year I just have not felt like I fit in anymore. Too much talk of cervical mucus and examining your cervix and charting and acronyms — stuff that is long since not applicable to me. Some people are just obsessive, and that makes me uncomfortable. And there’s this thing about trying to conceive — this alpha-female vibe about who’s got the most pain — that certain women just grabbed onto, and I wasn’t comfortable anymore. When did it become a competition? I guess when it comes right down to it, the people there have their own struggles and mine just don’t relate to theirs anymore. So I keep it to myself for the most part. But the friends and the blogging help with the patience.
I’ve never been a patient person. I am as impatient a person as you can find. I know when I think about it logically that this process takes patience. I understand when my case nurse tells us that we need to be patient that it is true. I realize that we need to take it month to month, and that requires waiting. I know there are women out there who have had babies in their 40s and been healthy and happy and fine — mostly celebrities, certainly few in my own circle of friends — but that it does happen. I’ll only be a circus freak for a little while, and then I’ll hopefully blend in with other mothers and children and not be an aberration, an anomaly, a joke. I know all that.
But waiting until I no longer have to wait any more is the (second-)hardest thing I have ever done.