in fertility

There I Said It.

I Am unable to have children. <sigh> There I said it. I feel better now. Well not really.

It has taken me a long time to come to terms with my fate, destiny…whatever. Perhaps the hardest thing I have ever been asked to accept in my life. I say “accept” because that is exactly what I must do. If I fail to accept it, it will consume me, and I will become bitter and resentful, a person I actively choose not to be.

I can’t begin to put to words to the types of feelings and thoughts a young woman goes through when she finds out. It is a lonely place, and somedays it is impossible. There is no funeral, no outpouring of support, and no one bakes you a lasagna. Though I feel incredibly alone, I know I am not. Doesn’t help. Doesn’t make me want it less.

I have yet to share my feelings about my defective innards with anyone. I don’t like pity, sympathy, and other such ridiculous cliche’ spectacles. I don’t like it when people look at me like I’m broken, or they think because I told them they have to fix me.  I realize I have a problem accepting help and sympathy, I have a problem crying in front of people, and sharing my feelings. I am a work in progress. Whatever my emotional maturity level is, I know I need to let go, to keep moving forward.

I wanted to have children since I was a child myself. In fact when asked how many, my answer was 12. I loved the idea of a big family. I had dreams of rocking and singing my baby to sleep.  Proudly watching my babies eyes light up when he/she took their first step. Taking pictures of beaming little faces on the first day of school. My husband patiently helping them with their math homework. Kissing scrapped knees and hurt feelings. Boisterous family dinners filled with giggles and silly conversations. Nature hikes, family vacations, and soccer games. I dreamed of teaching them about life and love. I dreamed of recreating my fondest childhood memories with them. Building huge couch forts, Helping them through their first heartbreak, prom, graduation, marriage, and grand kids. Having something I can hold up to the world and say “I MADE THIS! and It is AMAZING!” I dreamed of experiencing that magical thing called un-conditional love. All of these things and more, will never come to fruition for me. When I am ready to leave this world, I will not be surrounded by the family I have built, I will most likely be alone.

As much as I try to, plaster a smile on my face there are constant daily reminders, of my unfulfilled aspirations. Although I realize these statements and suggestions are always given with the best intentions, I still need to vent the frustration that I feel behind them. Perhaps there are others out there who may relate, and in no way is this meant to thwart the good intentions of others, it is only my personal take.

” I have this friend who couldn’t get pregnant for X years then all of a sudden she did, so you never know.” For one, I am not your friend and your words offer very little comfort, in fact It seems like a one-up statement. Sharing your friends happy ending  just makes me want to slap the <insert expletive here> out of you.

“Why don’t you see a doctor, or try in vitro, lots of people who couldn’t have babies had success with it.” Right, all those medical treatments and the like are not guaranteed and cost tens of thousands of dollars I don’t have. So thanks, but seriously like I haven’t thought of that?!!

“You could always adopt” Your right I could, Not the same, but thanks, and by the way you have know idea the situation I am in, or how my other half is dealing or not dealing with this. Again I am aware of my options, and honestly I am not at that decision making point yet. I also don’t think I am ready for endless wait, and possible heartbreak when it doesn’t work out.

My real answer to all of these polite suggestions is the same “Yeah Maybe” as I bite my lower lip in order to hold back the frustration, in my voice.

“Do you have any kids? “Your getting old you should pop out some kids soon!” “Do you want kids?” All of these statements, even though they seem harmless are like knives to my empty womb every time I hear them. My general answer is some vague, yet cheery “Not yet”, or “still working on it.” I don’t feel the need to elaborate further, mostly because I don’t want to see your pity face, hear your solutions (see above) or answer your questions. Honestly the more you wish to talk about my barren belly the faster I want to get away from you.

“Bet your glad you don’t have kids”, ” You do not  know how lucky you are.” or any statement to that effect.  You don’t know how lucky you are to have them. Please continue  to tell me about my luck of having my dreams and goals shattered. Please continue to tell me how awesome it is, to be incapable of creating another human. Share with me how lucky I am to never  feel that unconditional love. Yeah Buddy, the gods have blessed me for sure. I usually respond with a small laugh, eye roll combination followed with a sarcastic “yeah”.

Just know that every baby shower I go to, I am reminded of what will never manifest in my life. Every time I see your baby photos on Facebook  I am imagineing a future that doesn’t exist. Just know that when you proudly talk about child’s accomplishments, I will be unable to contribute to the conversation. Please know that I don’t want to be this way, but I am. I am truly happy for you and your genius child, they are incredibly cute. But sometimes, it is just a reminder. It still hurts. I haven’t healed yet. Honestly, there will always be a place in my heart for the child that never was.

It takes a lot not to think about it every time I see a commercial, a family at the zoo, a new children’s movie, or simply walk past the baby section at Target. At first I just ignored it, then I cried about it, I blamed God. I found distractions, the gym, friends, work….whatever I could just to fill the gap. Now I know none of these distractions will help me face this, with every end to a distraction I desprratly seek to find another, only to repeat the messy process, over and over.

Perhaps like any other grieving processes it just takes time. I no longer blame God. I still cry. I am still searching for a new distraction. Right now, I find myself in a hard place. I really don’t know when I will feel ok. My whole life I assumed I was meant to get married and have babies, end. But now I need to find a new purpose. I don’t think I can be happy if I don’t.  Perhaps I can travel the world, climb mountains, and  explore the beauty behind my front door, and my past aspirations. I only need to take that step, leave my self pity behind me and keep moving forward.