I Can't Have Babies





I've struggled a lot this week on how I wanted to write my next post. December was a really tough month for me. January was looking brighter until I suffered a crushing blow to my sense of self last week.

I was grocery shopping yesterday and almost burst into tears. A young man and his four year old walked past me, holding hands, giggling, having the grandest time just walking through the store. First I smiled and thought "how sweet, I can't wait until that's my life." Immediately following that I felt like I got drop-kicked in the uterus.  

I like having plans. I keep track of my goals and always have a to-do list on me. 
Well, my whole plan, my whole life was married around 23, first child by 24. My plans were accelerated when I got married at 19. But I failed to conceive in the following four years (more on that here.) 

Last week I realized with a sickness in my tummy, that the life I had planned on, isn't happening.
I will not be a mother by 24.
I will not be a mother in the foreseeable future.
I may never be a mother.

Being very goal-oriented means that I feel as though I have failed myself in someway because of this. Regardless of my lack of control in the situation. I'm thankful that at least I don't have a spouse to feel like I've failed them in my inability to do what women are built to do. Sadness is a constant cloud looming over me. Fleeting moments of laughter while I'm with the kids or Claire make me forget temporarily. Until I've remembered again.

To get away from feeling sorry for myself, I decided to make other plans for my future. That maybe that's not what my life was meant to be. Maybe I should make plans to have a beautiful, small house that's all my own because I won't have a family to fill it with. Plans that involve girl's nights at my house with vodka and board games. Instead of ballet recitals and bedtime stories. Plans to go on exotic vacations and explore new countries. Instead of taking my nonexistant future children to disney world.
Girl's nights and exotic vacations sound pretty damn awesome. I'm not going to lie. I first thought "I could be satisfied with a life like that!" This hopeful outlook lasted a day or two. And then I realized that yes, that would be a fantastic life. I would love doing those things. But I would sacrifice them all in a heartbeat for a good man who loved me and a family to take care of. That's who I am, that's what I was meant to do. I know what I want in life. I've always known. I have never struggled to find myself or my purpose in life. It's always been obvious. 

All of these emotions in the last week have been a (slight) roller coaster. I am hoping that some closure will come with sharing the battles a person faces when living with infertility. Infertility never leaves the back of my mind. Even when I'm happy and content with where I currently am, the thought is always buzzing back there. I don't think I could use any amount of words to properly convey how much I battle with myself over it on a daily basis. A constant struggle between trying to be happy in the present, trying to envision a different future, and telling myself I need to be okay with the reality of the situation.
But sometimes I'm not okay. Sometimes I need my best friend to hug me and say that its okay to be sad or upset or jealous about it. Sometimes I need comfort in being held and told that it's life and it sucks. 

Sometimes I need people to keep their comments to themselves about how it will happen for me one day, or they know so many stories like mine that changed. A thousand stories about other people will not make me feel any better.  
My peace of mind comes from knowing that people can accept that this is my life, and they love me and want to struggle through it next to me. My peace of mind comes from knowing that no, it won't magically happen but that one day I may meet the person who wants to try and take every measure we can to change it. My peace of mind comes from telling somebody how I feel and having them listen instead of trying to argue with me about my medical condition, as if they know anything about what I've gone through.
 
Hopefully tomorrow will be happier, but today I just want to cry. 
And that's OKAY too.