I'm sensitive

Sensitivity.

There's a certain sensitivity that must be apparent when talking to someone who has infertility.

We are a fragile group.

I cannot even explain how disheartening it is to feel this way. To feel immobilized. To be depressed over something that makes millions of people so happy.

It's a longing and a want that is intangible.

I say we are a fragile group, because we are. I need your sensitivity. I need your understanding and your patience. I need you to not tell me things, even when you are excited about them.

My heart is delicate.

- Heather

No End.

We are able to tolerate difficult experiences because we know they end.

It is not the same with infertility; I have no idea if it will end.

Everyone's ending is different. Some women have babies and that is their ending. Some women exhaust all their options, and decide to end their journey. Some women are simply told; you will never have children.

Where does it end.

My confusion lies in my own failed optimism. Optimism that at times, can lead me to believe that I am getting closer towards my goal. Confusion, when I realize I have no idea where I am on my own personal journey.

After years of trying, is this only the beginning? Am I on the brink of merely starting something? After years of trying, and I almost finished? Or, am I in the elusive middle?

I.

Have.

No.

Idea.

- Heather

Avoiding it

Most days I try to avoid it. My last few posts were very raw, real,  .... depressing. Most days it is difficult to even to write like that. It's difficult to acknowledge all the feelings I keep inside.

Acknowledgement means that it's real.
It's easier to pretend it isn't.

Some people are completely shocked when I share this side of me. Shocked, because my persona is the opposite. While I am a genuinely a happy person, I am also genuinely sad. My heart aches for what I can't grasp. I feel a constant pull between the two.

Avoidance works because you feel in control.

It feels out of control when your own body won't do what you thought it would. When your own mind works against you. When you find yourself more filled with doubt than filled with hope.

So today, I'm choosing to avoid it.

- Heather

Stuck

Stuck.

A simple word.

A word that when used one can easily picture the meaning.

I've been stuck on how to even trying to describe this feeling, writing down many thoughts only to erase them.

It feels that way, to not have the ability to get pregnant.

It feels like you are trying to explain yourself, trying to get a grasp on what on is going on, only to stop suddenly, because you can't.

It can't always be explained.

You feel stuck.

You feel stuck because (even though you know it is not true), you fear that the world is moving on without you, and there is nothing you can do about it. 

You can't move backwards, to a time when all of this didn't matter. When the ache didn't fill your heart, when you were able to focus.

You can't move forwards because you have no idea what you should do. 

You're supposed to just wait.... indefinitely.....stuck.

- Heather

Someday

It started when I was three years old.

I look back at pictures of me playing with dolls, constantly.

It continued when I was in grade school, and I begged my parents for a pet, or a little brother or sister, or anything REAL that I could take care of.

Most recently, it has been my dogs.

A lifetime of want.

A lifetime of knowing that someday I want to be a mother.

'Someday' is so ambiguous. 'Someday' is not comforting. 'Someday' really just means 'not now'.  

It is not something that is expected.

You expect to grow up, yes

You expect to leave your parents, yes

You expect to fall in love, yes

and you expect that someday your life will create new life.

It is not expected that the one thing you have thought will come naturally, will be the most difficult challenge you have faced. It is not expected that you will lose friends, lose your way, lose bits and pieces of who you were, because of this.

It is expected that if you face this challenge, you should be brave.

You should count your blessings.

You should think of how fortunate you are instead.

You should be patient.

You should be supportive.

No one says, you should be upset. 

You should be pissed off.

You should be jealous.

You should be distant.

You should be lost.

Someday, is not today.

- Heather

Apologizing and Guilt

I find myself apologizing.

Apologizing for things I can't say, but should.

Apologizing for avoiding people, situations, and conversations.

It feels lonely.

I apologize because it comes naturally. It's easier to say 'sorry I can't make it' than to force myself into a situation which will undoubtedly crush me. I use the words 'crush me' losely, as there have been times where it takes me days, weeks, months, or years to even recover from someone saying 'I'm pregnant'.

Then sets in the guilt.

As someone who celebrates people's success, I feel incredibly guilty for distancing myself. When someone shares that they are pregnant, they are beyond happy. They are entitled to start planning the next part of their life. They can imagine their child's room, name, and things they will do together.

Every part of me wants to help them celebrate too.

I shut down.

I grow distant.

I start apologizing.

I avoid.

Usually all I am left with is guilt.

It's a cycle I am unsure of how to fix, but one that is constant.

- Heather

'Do you have kids?'

I am never sure where to start, when someone asks the question 'Do you have kids'. 

A million thoughts run through my head, and usually I hesitate before simply smiling and politely saying 'nope'. It is rare that I would go into more detail than this. 

Is it shame that I stay silent? fear? jealousy? 

I believe I struggle to tell people because I do not want their pity. 

I do not tell people because I fear as though they will attempt to understand. 

It is not something to be understood.

It is something that has to be felt, anguished, and tolerated.

Despite my usually optimistic outlook on life, I find this secret, this burden that I have been carrying, to out shadow all other aspects of my life.  Within seconds of feeling completely euphoric and elated, I immediately crash to the exact opposite; desolate and unattached.

It is painful to realize that other people's happiness can make you feel so lost and completely unable to cope.

It does not necessarily get easier; just more routine.

It is no longer shocking to me, that I am not pregnant. Mostly, it makes me feel numb.

The anguish and anxiety of not knowing if I will ever be a mother has silenced me, usually unable to even express this, I am not even sure how to finish this sentence.

And that is what it feels like to be dealing with infertility; always something unfinished.

- Heather

The meaning behind the Plum Blossom

Earlier this year, I got another new tattoo. 
Symbolic? Yes. Beautiful? Yes. Do I regret it? Never. 
This blog is not about tattoos, but the tattoo I got warrants some attention. In hopes to give myself new insight, I had a plum blossom tree tattooed on my shoulder.

'In the midst of winter, before snow melts and the swallow returns, plum trees blossom onto the barren landscape, bracing the harshness of winter and reminding people spring will come. Celebrated here is the vitality of life, endurance through hardship, and hope that life will regenerate.' (http://kristinasaid.wordpress.com)

It turns out, having a beautiful tree tattooed on your shoulder will not distract you from the constant yearning that continues in your mind. The longing, hope, and depression that constantly bombard your thoughts.

Infertility is a difficult word to write.
Even just writing it, makes me have to acknowledge that the word even exists. 

I'd rather be writing words like 'mother' or 'pregnant' or 'baby', but not infertility. It brings tears to my eyes to not be able to to even read those words without becoming emotional.

I do not plan to complain on this blog, for my blessings are far more than I could ever imagine. I plan on voicing my concerns, sharing my struggles, and hopefully renewing my own strength. 

- Heather