Into a New Year

The hardest part about writing this blog, for me, has been letting people I know I’m sad. It’s not so much that you know that I’m sad, it’s just this nagging feeling that I’m somehow being ungrateful by being frustrated, angry, and upset that it’s been 5 ½ years since we decided to start a family, and we have nothing to show for it. I keep reminding myself that I have so much to be grateful for and that if I complain about this one thing, I’ll be selfish or self-absorbed in the eyes of others and possibly my own. I know this isn’t true, that I am allowed to be grateful for what I have but also sad about the way things turned out. However, it’s a challenge for me to feel this resolution in my bones. I worry that you’ll read my words and feel like I need to stop complaining and just deal with it.

Opening up and being vulnerable is difficult for all of us. It isn’t easy to admit to someone that we are struggling, that we are sad, or that we’re frustrated. It’s much easier to smile and pretend that everything is ok. Infertility has been the catalyst for stepping outside my comfort zone and sitting with how I am really feeling about things. It’s admitting that sometimes I feel like our life has been on hold for years and that we have missed out on too much. It’s coming to terms with decisions I thought we would never have to make. It’s looking out the bedroom window, onto a gray and rainy Pittsburgh day, and feeling unmotivated. Feeling unsure of how to gather the energy to try for another transfer.

This morning, my partner and I made the decision that we would try one more time to transfer our embryo, and after this attempt, walk away from IVF. The past few months have been back-to-back transfer cancellations and postponements. My body is tired. I am tired on every level, and I’m scared of walking away with empty hands. But, I also know that I physically and emotionally can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep putting life on hold. I can’t keep pumping my body full of hormones and drugs. I can’t keep smiling while going through this.

We have the months of January and February, after that, we will either move on with a transfer and hopefully a pregnancy, or we will process the past 5 ½ years together and decide how we want to move forward. We’re done waiting. We’re done living in the in-between state. We might even be done with hoping.

At some point, we need to be ready to accept a future that we hadn’t planned on. These are the moments when I fear I’m being self-centered, dramatic, and ungrateful. These are the scary moments when I sit down, type how I’m really feeling, and hit the publish button. These are the moments when I am honest with myself and it can be overwhelming. This blog has been a jumping off point for me and a way to process what is going on. Sometimes it helps to put everything out in the open, other times, I can’t find the right words and end up not saying a word.

The truth is, we don’t know how our desire to start a family will turn out. In all honesty, I don’t know that I will ever be ready to find out. But, at this point, it’s the only choice we have left.