It's out of control. There is no pattern of any kind. Probably because I haven't slept more than a solid hour in weeks. The app on my phone that predicts my ovulation said Sunday was the big day. I spent most of Sunday lying on the couch trying to remember what it felt like to breathe out of my nose.
Sometimes, I can't believe that infertility is happening to me. Like it's really just a cruel joke. I always imagined I'd have kids--four to be exact. Three boys, one girl. They'd obviously be athletic, and smart like their dad, maybe a few of them would be artistic like me. I'd coach the girl volleyball. We'd play softball as a family together in the backyard. Foursquare in the driveway.
But in some ways, I feel like I always knew I would struggle to have kids. It took my parents 14 years to conceive--maybe they passed down some defect to me? It took me several tries to lose my virginity. After a lot of tears, doctor visits, and frustration, I eventually learned I had vaginismus. I've always suffered from UTIs and bladder infections, in addition to the occasional kidney infection (one so severe that when the Urgent Care doc came back after a quick glance at my urine sample, his first words were: "How are you not in more pain? Your urine is disgusting!"). I dealt with irregular periods before going on birth control at 16. I've had more yeast infections than I can count--I got my first one only a few weeks after my first period when I was 12.
It seems like most of my life there's been something wrong with my hoo-haw. Infertility is just the most recent.
Sometimes I'm convinced one of these days I'll wake up pregnant. It will have worked exactly like it was supposed to, and I'll wonder what I was so worried about. But sometimes, I can feel it deep in my heart--something whispering to me that I'm wasting my time. Despite no medical evidence, I can just feel that there's something wrong with me. I'll never get pregnant.
Honestly, if I could know that--really, truly know by someone who's looked into my future and seen what happens--I'll never, ever get pregnant, I could be okay. Sure, it'd be a huge blow. I'd grieve for the children I could never have--the smart, athletic children with Bobby's chin dimple and my blue eyes. But I would survive. We'd come up with a Plan B, re-evaluate and re-organize. We'd probably live a little differently. But we would be just as happy.
The worst part is the not knowing. Agonizing over each symptom. The wondering. Analyzing how far should we go to try to conceive. The waiting.
If Future Lilee could just tell me, You never get pregnant. But it all works out anyway. I would be fine.
But until then...what?
I agree that the "not knowing" has to be the hardest part about all of this. Like you said, if we knew one way or another, at least we could move on and plan.
ReplyDeleteSometimes it happens at the least expected time.
It's so hard not knowing...ugh. Wow 14 years is a long time and I bet they thought it would never happen, but then came you :) It took my hubby's parents 7 years to have him and I think to myself I would seriously be crazy at that point! I guess all we can do is take it one day at a time.
ReplyDeleteThe not knowing part is definitely the hardest, but I think the not knowing is what helps strengthen your faith too. If you can find a way to believe IT WILL happen (which I really do think it will) then it will mean that much more to you when it does. I know...cliche' but still true. I just tend to believe that it can mean more to those of us who are putting so much effort and our faith blindly into something we can't see vs. those who it just happens to accidentally. Your parents are an inspiration and so are YOU!
ReplyDeleteI completely agree...the not knowing, the wondering about how far can/should we go, the cyclical agony...it's the worst!! Right at the beginning of the new year I think I did grieve the children I'd never have...not that I knew one way or the other, but I got to a breaking point and I GRIEVED! Hard. For a week a solid week at least. And maybe I'm a complete weenie because it only took a year and a half of infertility to break me down like that. And maybe it would have (or could) happen all over again, but there was something very freeing about letting go. Basically, I guess I'm saying infertility is terribly difficult...and even though I have hope you and others have hope for you, I totally understand the sense of despair you're feeling. Just hang on. One thing is certain, life changes and sunny days are ahead...sometimes they're just hard to see through the clouds.
ReplyDeleteThanks for these encouraging words, Kelsey!
DeleteI had to google vaginismus. Obviously you got past that?
ReplyDeleteI was once told by a doctor that it was not impossible, but extremely unlikely that we'd ever get pregnant on our own. I basically did have someone look into my future and tell me is never be pregnant. However, I finally was and finally do have babies. It's just a matter of what steps you are personally willing/able to take to get there. It's a matter of what's right for you in your pursuit. I will continue to cheer you on, no matter which road you take, around each bend and curve, and even if you decided the road comes to an end. Hugs my friend.
Thanks, Amber. And yes, I did get past it - with a little effort and some doctor-prescribed dildos. Your story is so inspiring to me. If someone gave me that diagnosis, I'm not sure I would keep going. You guys are such rockstars and I know your kiddos will appreciate everything you did to create them!
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