Post-session #2

Last night was just an easy, wowispilledalotofbackgroundstuff type of appointment.  There were a few things that I gained from the session that I’ll share with the Infertile World, because they definitely helped me realize I am not alone in my feelings towards infertility (not that I really think I am alone, obviously there are many people who go through this and now there are some of you going through this “with” me, but you know what I mean).


1. Dark, selfish thoughts are normal.  It’s normal to begrudge the pregnant ones, the fertile ones, the ones who currently or previously have/had what we want.  Infertility is a huge umbrella that casts a complete shadow over everything.  It can seem like “everyone but me” sometimes–and sometimes, maybe it is.  It doesn’t mean we don’t love our own life, or that we don’t realize the bounty of blessings we have been given in so many aspects–but those blessings do not make this one issue any easier to cope with.


2. It would be easier to deal with infertility if there was a clear “end-game” somewhere down the line.  If I knew that in one year, or two years, I would be pregnant.  Or if I could see that I could be happy with another sort of “resolution” to this situation.  That is what makes it so hard to live in the now, to enjoy the day to day, because it is not certain when or even IF I will be pregnant again.  It is most certainly easier to live through any sort of crisis when the end is in sight, no matter how far away that end might be.  Infertility is not a guaranteed “temporary” situation.  That is why it is scary and sad and overwhelming.  That is why sometimes it feels like we are banging our heads against a brick wall, again and again.  If I were to think about other challenging or unfortunate scenarios, even if they are pretty damn bad, all might have that “end game” component–and infertility just doesn’t.


3. People who say that I should be happy to have my current son, and “at least you have P” are just people who don’t know any better.  Some women (me) define themselves by the role of motherhood.  Some don’t, and have careers that are important, or other parts of their life that make them who they are.  I know I have some of those things too, but the one “career” that I long for is Motherhood.  And I am not complete if I had to acknowledge that my current son will completely fill that role.  I WANT to be the mom that perhaps some more (forgive my lack of a better word here)  ”liberal” woman would mock–I WANT to be defined by my family role.  I crave and yearn for that.  And it is ok.  I know my husband would be satisfied with his life if we galloped off into the sunset as a healthy family of three, but I would not be.  I have an emptiness still (interesting to note that therapist commented that 99% of men have the same feelings as my husband, while many wives have the same feelings I do.  When I recapped the session to T last night, it was clear that he doesn’t understand in the LEAST what I am talking about–but I will give him credit for listening to what I had to share).


4. The very best thing anyone could ever say to anyone who has had a miscarriage(s), or has had countless failed ART cycles, etc is something to the effect of,  ”I can’t even begin to imagine how this feels for you. I am so sorry.”  Because really, they can’t.  And that’s okay–but to come up with other not-so-sage sympathies or advice is actually more detrimental than helpful.  I am going to try to embrace those words for when I am interacting with others who are dealing with crises–I most certainly do not know the extent of their hurt and their pain, and it needs to be acknowledged as such.


All in all, some nice lessons learned.  And there is definitely something to be said for learning from a highly educated woman (whom, it turns out, suffered from “secondary” infertility (crap phrase, crap phrase) for eight years until she conceived her second).  And many thanks to the advice I received yesterday from some folks–I placed a call to the new acu center earlier and will hopefully set something up for next week.

One Comment, Comment or Ping

  1. Anonymous

    ”I can’t even begin to imagine how this feels for you. I am so sorry.” – you are so right. That’s all I ever want to hear. Not “if you just relax, it will happen.”

    Really enjoying reading your blog.

    October 21st, 2009

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