Sunday, July 11, 2010

Life Between Two Pink Lines

My house is so quiet right now.  Scott and the kids are outside cleaning the garage, the dogs are lying on the back porch and I'm in here enjoying the silence, letting it sit on my shoulders like a cape.

Unfortunately, in the silence I start thinking, start dreaming, start wondering.  And, though I have not mentioned it here or really anywhere lately, all I think about in the silence is out current status of fertility, or, more correctly, infertility.  I try not to dwell on it and readily acknowledge that this miscarriage was far less emotionally devastating than my first one was -- back when we weren't sure that we'd ever have another child.

But in the quiet moments my mind wanders and I think, "Wow!  I'd be out of the first trimester by now!" and " might have started feeling movement soon!"  The thought is relentless sometimes, "I want a baby.  I want a baby.  I want a baby."  It rides on every heartbeat, following my blood as it reaches my fingertips and flows back to my heart.  It is so illogical -- my family is perfect as it is, really it is.  But I want a baby.  I want a baby.  I want a baby.

I have been feeling this way for so long, long enough to have lived through the excited planning phase (trying to conceive months 1-5), the jealous phase ( months 6-10), and the heartbroken phase (months 10-15).  I am now in month 17 and in the "I'm just so tired of trying, of monitoring, medicating, timing, stressing, worrying and waiting" phase.  Which means that every time someone announces a new pregnancy, I am just numb.  An online friend announced (on my birthday, no less) that she is expecting her third.  I was more annoyed that she announced it on my birthday, especially since she knows my history, than I was jealous or even happy for her.  Of course, I didn't tell anyone -- why would I? 

When you are struggling with infertility there is no obvious sign, no one makes a t-shirt that says, "Hey, I can't get pregnant and stay pregnant, so please stop asking me when we're going to have another kid!"  You don't have a black cloud following you around, raining on people for saying something insensitive because my infertility consumes only my waking thoughts, not theirs.  It shouldn't, either.  It is such a silent suffering, my battle scars are all in places that no one can see.

I had to force myself to use my ovulation predictor kit the last few mornings -- I had fallen out of the habit since the miscarriage and getting back into it just made me mad.  I hate that my life is currently ruled by two little pink lines, that so many decisions rest in the space between them -- should we start planning next summer's vacation yet?  What size bridesmaid's dress will I need to order for my brother's wedding?  We need a new vehicle -- mini-van to hold three carseats or sedan than needs to hold only two?

I have already had to release the daycare slot our sitter was holding for us.  If we were successful right now, this cycle, we would be having a baby close enough to summer that we wouldn't need daycare until the fall when Scott goes back to work full-time.  For some reason, speaking that logic aloud, relaying that choice to the sitter was so very difficult because we were admitting failure on an epic level.  There is such finality when you tell someone "We don't have a child for you yet, nor will we during this upcoming year."

Part of me wants to give up, so tired of the infinite waiting, the life held suspended in "What if?"  But I don't want to give up on a child, don't want a baby to feel like an after-thought, so I'll live life between those two pink lines for a little while longer.

11 comments:

WildThingsMom said...

((hugs)) Don't give up. I love you. *muah*

Bethany@ImperfectMom said...

(hugs) I wish I could say something to make it better, but I know that I can't. I've longed for a third-I still feel an ache inside when I see a baby, but my husband was adamant about stopping at 2. I wish I had that peace about being "done" that other women talk about. I hope things work out for you soon, and that you'll have a sweet smelling little bundle in your arms again.

chgomomx3 said...

Oh Sweetie... I <3 you.

parentingadabsurdum said...

I have a close friend in a very similar situation - it's so tough. I feel for you.

Christine said...

Oh honey, I can only imagine how hard this must be. I can't do much except send you hugs and encourage you to reach out to others who are in the same boat. Sometimes talking and chatting can help I think, especially in knowing that your feelings are completely normal.

I'm thinking of you!

IASoupMama said...

Thank you all so very much -- I hate writing such a downer of a post, but really felt like I needed to, must have been the rain yesterday afternoon. I do feel better for having expressed these thoughts, but worry that I'll start alienating friends/followers/people I know simply because I'm writing about this again. No one likes the lady who complains about everything constantly, so I don't wanna be her.

The Single Mothers Chronicles said...

I am so sorry; I had some friends go through this too and it's so awful and hard. You have a lot of emotions and I think the writing will help you get them out.

Thanks for coming by during Naomi's guest post - hope to see you again soon!
Swati

Rhonda Schrock said...

I'm sorry. Life stinks sometimes. It's okay to say so. I know you won't stay there forever, but right now it's just hard.

vanita said...

Don't give up! My second and third children are ten years apart! My co-worker just had her first child at age 45. It can happen. Keep trying, keep praying and you'll be in my prayers too.

Erin said...

As another infertile, I'm hoping it's okay if I share this with another infertile I know? SHe doesn't have any children yet. They cannot afford IVF, etc....I don't think she has that many people to talk to.....

I am so sorry. I would like another baby, too. But it's just not in the cards for us. Damn useless ovaries.

MommyToTwoBoys said...

I am so sorry to hear that. I can sympathize and encourage though! I had one before my first son and one before my 2nd son. Both were absolutely devastating, especially the 2nd because I was already 20 weeks. Just love, love, love the 2 you've got. It was when we decided our first would just be an only that we got pregnant with our 2nd.