Thursday, June 02, 2011

Saddy sad, stabbity stab

I wonder if the reason most people don't talk about infertility is because it makes you feel like there's something wrong with you.

Or maybe it's because it just makes you so fucking sad. All the time.

Except for the cycles that you're taking Clomid. Because during those months you also walk around completely enraged, at everyone at every moment.

For me, anyway, it's like being put in a crazy jar and being able to see yourself in there, bouncing off the walls, thinking and saying angry, mean, hateful things, but not being able to unscrew the lid and let yourself out. Or even put your hand over your mouth to stop yourself.

If you see what I'm saying.

And I'm so sick of this focus on what I don't have. I do it to myself, and it's a crappy way to live. I'm trying, really trying, to focus on what I DO have, which is a great family that includes this delightful gem of a son who just fills my heart so full that sometimes I wonder if it will explode.

I mean, when I'm not feeling hateful towards him due to aforementioned hormones.

But every month that goes by, I just feel worse about myself. And worse about our possibilities. And why, why did I wait to be so OLD?

And then there are those people who, with all good intentions, just tell you to relax, that stress works against you.

It's like when I was single and Internet dating like a fiend and fretting about dying alone. And well-intentioned people were all, "Oh, just relax! You need to stop trying so hard! That's when things happen! I met my husband when I wasn't looking!"

Those suggestions always made me feel like stabbing them. When they weren't looking.


  1. "I met my husband when I wasn't looking!" could be the most subtly awesome insult EVER.

    You know, if you take it as though it's said defensively or apologetically. Which is pretty much how I choose to interpret it - it's much less annoying that way.

  2. You know what? It's awesome to be grateful for what you have. But that doesn't mean it's not okay for you to be upset about what you don't have. You feel what you feel and right now you feel like stabbing someone. It's normal and acceptable (the thinking about the stabbing, not the actual action of stabbing someone.) I really really hope that you get what you want. Big hugs, hunny bunny.

  3. I've been told you can get knocked up when you aren't looking, too, and sometimes it can be more fun that way.

    I've already given you my psychic prediction: you are going to have everything you want. I just know it. xo

  4. I'm sorry you're having so much trouble. It sucks.

  5. You know, I always wondered how the word "fuck" became a bad word. But it's a FANTASTIC word to use when you're angry. So it kind of makes sense. Fuckity fuck.

    You know what I hate? When people use references from Office Space. "Looks like someone has the case of the Mondays!" (Especially since I work in an office full of women).

    Some people need to be slapped, (or stabbed for that matter) or think before they open their mouths.

    Hope everything works out for you! I am hoping my comment at least made you laugh.... :)

  6. You know, I find it astounding how pervasive infertility and secondary infertility really seems to be when you start to know where to look. It's one of those things that I think lots of people don't talk about but LOTS of people experience. Which, frankly, sucks.

    I'm sorry you're having to deal with it, I truly am.

  7. I found my husband when I was looking. And worrying. I also got pregnant when I was trying. And worrying. I know you can't stop worrying, and I hope the treatments work. Good luck!

  8. I had 5 long years of this before I had my family.
    I think the worst is when others, friends,family members, fell easily, but didn't want to tell me they are pregnant, but mangaged to let me know they didn't want to tell me,after avoiding me for ages.
    I was always thinking,I'm happy for you and sad at the same time, but don't presume to know how I feel,it sucks, yes,but it's bullshit that you would think that I wouldn't be happy that you're so happy.
    I love your analogy of crazy in a jar....I remember this!!

    p.s don't carry knives :)

  9. Ah Lisa, that last line made me laugh out loud. How you manage to be in the middle of this hellish experience and still blog -- and still be so funny! -- is amazing to me.

    Also, don't read My Name is Mary Sutter. I ought to have waited until my nest is empty before ever attempting it. Danged well-meaning friends trying to lend me a good book. It's not even particularly depressing, or about infertility exactly. Just a midwife trying to become a doctor during the civil war.

    Oh yes, also don't read The Time Traveler's Wife if you haven't already. I cried my head off after a different well-meaning friend lent me that one right after I had a miscarriage. Do you have this problem? Do you have to be careful of what you read, or what episode of Law & Order you watch? I certainly do now.

  10. Though I can't begin to know how you feel at this point, I can imagine the angst. I've got friends going through it. I just visited the doc this week and something she said sent little fingers of fear snaking around my middle.

    It all suckity, suck, suck, sucks, and I'm sorry you are dealing with it.

  11. I hate that you're going through this. It kills me when anyone has to feel the isolation and despair, the frustration and the rage. I never understood why people refused to talk about something that is so common. But the silence only contributes to the sadness, in my experience anyway. I felt broken and depressed for years. Years. Walked through days and weeks and years like a zombie and burst into tears at pregnant bellies and drooling babies. If you ever want to meet for coffee to talk, I'll listen. I'm just over the river. Hang in there.

  12. Ah Lisa, I'm so sorry for all this. That well intentioned advice (as well intentioned as it may be) is like saying to someone with a hungry lion bearing down on them 'don't panic!'. All very well in theory.

    And such great writing still! Wishing you all the very very best with this, you SO deserve another...

  13. Jessica - I suppose it is! Maybe I'll start saying that to people I dislike. I think I will. It won't even have to be related to the topic at hand. :)

    Hillary - Thanks, hunny bunny. That makes me feel better about the stabbing (the thinking, rather, not the actual).

    freckledk - I'm going to try to make sure not to look next time. :) Thank you!

    Wendy - Thanks. Yah, it does.

    Maiden Metallurgist - Yes, it all sucks. I know you know. Just sucks.

    Shelly - Thanks for making me laugh. I hate the Office Space quotes as well. Definitely make me stabby.

    Ginger - It's true. I've gotten a number of emails from people who have been dealing with it - some I know and some I don't. It's very common and very not-talked-about.

    Jaclyn - Thank you. I appreciate this.

    IWASNTBLOGGEDYESTERDAY - Five long years is unimaginable. I'm so sorry. What a lot of heartbreak to bear.

    I don't carry knives, so don't worry. Although a fork or sharpened pencil might do the trick in a pinch...:)

    Laura - Thank you, dear friend. I think funny is kind of a defense, maybe. We all always turned to the funny when we were dealing with terrible things.

    I loooved The Time Traveler's Wife but yes, like you, I have to be very careful of what I read or see depending on what I'm dealing with in real life. It all affects me in my core.

    Keenie Beanie - Thank you. Yes, definitely it all suckity, suck suck sucks. And not to sound all, oh, I met my husband...but don't get scared without reason - if you think it's valid, make your doctor give you more information.

    Dana - I appreciate it, I really do. I might take you up on it.

    Miranda - Thanks, my friend. Hugs to you.

  14. I just saw this post, and I'm so sorry it's been such a difficult journey. It sucks, and it's far too common (and not talked about). I wish I could have been one of those women who one day realized her period was late, and was all "wow! I think I'm pregnant!" Alas, ovulation sticks, temperatures, graphs, etc. were part of both of my pregnancies.

    The only advice I have is to keep the faith. The right egg is in you, and it's just a matter of waiting for it to be in the right place at the right time. You'll get there, I just know it. It took me 6 months to get pregnant the first time, and when I look at my son now, I wouldn't have it any other way. If I had been successful that first month - well, it would have been some other kid that I'd have right now, not my little man.

    Anyway, I hope your wait is coming to an end. It's so hard wanting something so much, and not getting to have it. Hugs.

  15. LG - I can completely understand the heartache and mental arguing that goes on inside.

    I was on the opposite end of the scale. Since I was fifteen I got the run around treatment of, you'll have difficulty bearing children. If you get lucky enough to get pregnant (which is so dumb a saying anyway. How does one Get Lucky Enough? Sex multiple times in one night?).

    Having been with the love of my life for nearly ten years, with a minor hiccup we found ourselves pregnant. Our first ultrasound had the medical establishment going ... WOW! How did you do THAT without drugs. Because clearly, I manifested my son all by myself in my womb.

    I would say relax. I would say, you'll get there. But hell ... how do we know what we're supposed to anyway.

    If there is a little soul out there, looking for some great parents and a super amazing big bro ... I hope that little soul finds you.

    I really do.


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