Blogging Break

I haven’t thought long and hard about it. And I probably won’t keep silent for long anyway. But for now, I think I need a break from blogging. Not that I have been very good about blogging anyway.

At some point in the recent past I thought I was doing better, but it doesn’t feel so anymore. I thought I was sort of over my intense pregnancy jealousy, but I am so not. A pregnancy bomb was dropped on me today that despite my greatest efforts resulted in a tidal wave of bitterness. Apparently, I am very vulnerable to these bombs right now.

I also noticed that I cannot be as encouraging to you guys, who fortunately have finally (or again) made it (or are about to) into pregnancy territory, as I would like myself to be. Being pregnant can be downright scary and stressful. I loved being pregnant, loved to feel “normal” for a change, but was scared and paranoid nonetheless (except when it came to birthing. And we all know what happened then). And that was after a surprisingly easy conception. How much scarier must it be to be pregnant after tremendously difficulty in achieving those pregnancies and/or multiple prior pregnancy losses and/or high risks of pregnancy trouble? Thankfully, many of you have reached this stage at the same time and are able to support one another. I am still holding on a tiny bit of hope that I may reach it, too. But right now I am not. And even if I can only imagine how stressful it must be to be pregnant in (y)our situation(s), I’d still would much rather be in pregnancy territory than not. Looking over the fence again and again, while you hopefully move through pregnancy territory unharmed, is right now getting a bit difficult for me. I am so incredibly glad you made it across the fence (even if you didn’t take me with you - yet). I wish you all the best of luck. I cheer you on. I really do. I don’t want to see you on this side of the fence ever again. I just feel that reading pregnancy is getting too difficult for my own state of mind during this very fragile time.

The internet has given me so much support and comfort over the last two years. Reading your stories, your darkest hours and glorious moments, has meant so much to me. Over the years I’ve had many troubling encounters with families and friends who meant the best, I am sure, but who all added to me feeling shittier and shittier about myself. At times just knowing that I wasn’t alone with my less than perfect feelings about being infertile was enough to make me feel less alone. So thank you, lovely internet, thank you so much for sharing your stories.

Some of your stories have deeply touched me. Stories of cancer, of stillbirth, of repeated pregnancy loss, of premature ovarian failure, of primary infertility, of secondary infertility, of failed IVF after failed IVF, of having to let go of one of the most ordinary dreams there may be, of trying to move on despite getting knocked down again and again. I’ve cried many tears with you. And I can’t stop wondering WHY. Why does life not give you, give us, a break? I wish you all the best of luck on your tough journeys.

This November I am going to attempt another IVF. My fridge already hosts an insane amount of Follistim. Had my first one worked out, I would be due any time now. Coming to think about it, this kid could have been conceived around Valentine’s Day (day of transfer) and born around Thanksgiving Day. Alas, it did not happen. Too much cuteness? If this coming IVF fails again, I am not sure where our journey will take us. Mr. H is ready to be done; the ultimate optimist in our family has lost his optimism. To be precise, he’ll be done with IVF, which apparently equals the death of my dream. I can’t help and feel angry with him. Not only do I feel like a puppet in my body and life’s theater of random shit events, I am also not the one in control of when to put a stop to my (ordinary) dream. And I don’t know how to deal with that.

If you can, please, wish me some good luck for this coming IVF cycle.

This blogging break may only be temporary, heck, it may only last a couple of hours. We’ll see. In the meantime, please let me know if you know of, or know how to find, a great reproductive surgeon who specializes in tubal repair. Mr. H may not like to have to support another IVF cycle, but if my tubes could be repaired afterall, he'd support it.

Thank you all so much. Thank you. And all the best to you.