Infertiles unite!
Yeah, we did the thing, it didn’t happen and now I’m just sat here trying to figure out what actually is my life. I feel like I switch between despair and nonchalance.
I’m just going through forums and reading threads and posts from women on cycle number three completely distraught that it hasn’t happened yet. I suppose three months trying to conceive seeming like a long time really puts into perspective how long we’ve been trying.
Cycle 15. Lol. Well, at this point… at this point, I don’t even know what I want to say…
I feel like I don’t care. If it does happen I probably won’t even be happy, or excited. There’s just no joy in the process anymore. I don’t even know what I’m aiming for. Pregnancy? Is there such a thing? Isn’t that something that happens to other people and not me?
A pregnant Dera. Ha! And pigs can fly.
I guess it’s just one of those days where I’m trying to comprehend but not entirely sure exactly what I’m trying to comprehend. Like I’m trying to looking into the future and maybe think of how I can make it happen without knowing what I actually need to do.
Then I try to see signs in the universe. like oh, my favourite number is 26, so it’ll probably happen on cycle 26. Or, oh, I’ve just seen three identical trees together, I’ll probably be having triplets. The universe sucks. Once upon a time it didn’t, but now it does.
I’m also hiding. I don’t want to be asked about why I’m not pregnant yet. I’d like to be. It just hasn’t happened. But then I ask myself, do I really want to be or am I projecting societal expectations onto myself? Maybe being childless is something that was destined for me. Maybe I’d be so miserable with children that the universe is saving me with a lesser form of misery.
I’d probably look at the child that was sought after for so long and not even want it. All the stress and heartache I’ve been through to be left with a child I don’t want.
So, there’s no longer any point in testing. Sometimes I can get a little hopeful, but deep down I know my period will inevitably arrive so I don’t test anymore. My period arriving is a familiar comfort to the harshness of a negative pregnancy test. It sucks, but it’s mine. It’s what I know. All I know actually. So I’d rather it start so I can kick myself into autopilot and do what needs to be done to contain the remnants of my empty womb. Plus, once it starts, you know it’s over. There’s still a layer of hope attached to a negative test because maybe it’s still too early. But my period – that shit is final.
I’ve started referring to myself as infertile. I’ve taken the title and accepted it as I have the colour of my eyes. I’m infertile. Or rather, Telis and I are infertile. We’re the infertiles. Just casually being our infertile selves every infertile day. It’s cool. Like, I can’t have a child because I’m infertile. It doesn’t even hurt. At least right now it doesn’t. It just feels factual. Not much emotion behind it, I suppose. Infertile. Not surprised to be honest. Every woman has that fear but I’m not surprised it’s my reality. And a thought just popped into my head – why? Why am I not surprised?
What do I know that I’m not telling myself? How did I know?
I don’t know.
I have a cat. She’s amazing. Maybe I’ll just have more of her.
I’m restless. Anxious. I want the future to be here. I want to know. I want to pull out my hair. Get off this ride. I don’t want to spiral into darkness. I can’t.
We’re being referred for IVF in January. I don’t believe it’ll work for us. There’s something about childlessness that’s screaming inside my head. Like that’s what life is gearing me up for. My empty belly, forever empty. Will I be able to live with it? Will I jump in front of a bus? Guess we’ll just have to see.
Welcome to Chapter Infertility.