Keeping It Real: My lowest low of dealing with infertility

I decided I needed to post about when I was at my lowest point with my struggle with infertility.  Reading the blog right now, you would think that this journey to (start and) grow our family was full of sunshine, rainbows and puppies, but it wasn't.  It was a hard time.  I was miserable.  I was filled with anger and frustration.  I took things out on Nic.  I withdrew myself from a lot of people.  I was a mess.  I was unhappy.

I remember when everything really began to go downhill for me.  I found out my best friend was pregnant (with #2).  I was happy for her.  True, my heart ached a little bit, but I was happy for her.  She was (and still is) my best friend, why wouldn't I be?  Two months later I found out my co-worker's wife was pregnant (with #3).  I made sure my voice had the right level of excitement and exclaimed, with a big smile on my face: "oh my gosh, I'm so excited for you guys!"  I then slowly turned back to my computer and silently cried.  About a week later Nic and I were out as his parents house, when my father-in-law exclaimed: "So, did you hear?  {Sister-in law} is pregnant (with #3, which shortly came after #2)."  I looked at Nic, grabbed the car keys and drove away.  I was gone for probably about 2 hours, all of which was spent with me crying and listening to Super Woman by Alicia Keys over and over.  When I finally returned to get Nic, so we could go home, my Father-in-law apologized for saying something that may have upset me, but really it wasn't his fault.  He didn't know that I was extremely sensitive to all things baby and all things pregnancy, but I did appreciate his apology.

With all the news of people having babies I felt defeated.  I felt like I wasn't allowed to sit at the "cool kids" table.  I got to watch from a distance as they enjoyed their journey of motherhood.  I wanted to sit at their table, I wanted to be celebrating with them.  But I wasn't.  I couldn't.  Instead, I began to beat up on myself and my poor, non-functioning reproductive system.  I felt that I wasn't woman enough for my husband; that maybe if he was married to a woman whose reproductive system functioned properly they would be able to have their "miracle" baby.  This imaginary woman would be the one to help Nic become a father.  This woman would do what I couldn't.  I think that's why I pushed Nic away, I felt he wasn't happy and I wanted him to find that happiness elsewhere.  Besides pushing my husband away, I stopped doing the things that once filled me with happiness and peace.

I stopped attending my church meetings.  I stopped praying to the God, my Heavenly Father, that I knew could help ease my pain.  I stopped believing that He cared about me.  Loosing faith was an interesting thing.  I would think and write things in my journal, that I knew weren't true but felt at the time.  And every time I did do something like that, the immediate thought would come: "You know better than that."  It was as if my conscience was not wanting me to continue down this path of darkness, to not give up hope.  But I did.  I felt all was lost.  


That's the interesting thing about infertility.  No one tells you that you will begin to question your relationship or your self worth.  No one tells you that you will abandon those things that once brought you peace.  No one tells you that you will go through a mourning period, that you will give up hope.  It's as if people expect you to simply "bounce back."  There is nothing simple about getting back to being you.  It was a long process.  It took me a year to really feel good about myself again.  And still as the days and weeks go by, I'm still discovering pieces of me that I had forgotten.  But as I work on me, I have been filled with peace of this trial that my husband and I have endured.  I realize that it truly was for our good.  I'm able to see that now.  I know that as we continue down this path to grow our family, it won't be easy but I now have a greater sense of hope.   All is not lost during our trial of infertility.  All is just beginning.




**post-edit: I would like to say, as hard as I pushed my husband away he pushed harder to stay by my side.  He wanted to be there to support me, but I wouldn't let him.  Coming through everything, I know that Nic is the one that I needed by my side to go through this.  Together.  This trial may have been hard, but I wouldn't trade the growth that Nic and I experienced for anything.