Well, This Sucks.

ImageI am sick of talking about fertility. I am sick of thinking about trying to get pregnant. I am EXHAUSTED.

No one realizes what this does to you, trying to conceive for 11 months, battling a disease that most people don’t understand… it tears you apart. Throw in the occasional “I’ll have your baby for you!!” comment and it can ruin an entire night. People don’t get it and I keep telling myself this every day, but it doesn’t help. I want someone, other than a stranger on the computer, to get it. I want a friend who actually understands. Not that I would EVER wish this life upon anyone, but I just want that support, that bond. It’s sad, and I am mad at myself for letting it happen, but going through this has actually put a wedge in most of my friendships. Maybe that makes me cold, that I don’t reply to the pictures of your growing baby bump or “like” your status’ on Facebook anymore but it is what it is. I have put up a wall.

In fact, looking back on my life, this is what I always do. I block people out of my life to protect my heart. When my parents divorced, I was a week shy of 21. (Happy Birthday!) As an instant response to this Earth shattering event, I stopped going to classes, I started partying A LOT, I tried to find comfort in the arms of any guy that gave me attention (and then quickly kicked him to the curb when he attempted to get too close), I fought daily with my best friend and ended up pushing her out of my life for a year or two. I chased after anything that that was temporary and rejected the idea of any kind of permanence in my life. Because if my parents, after 25 years of marriage and 4 children, couldn’t last than surely, nothing could. I refused to get attached to anyone or anything and I lived my life like that for years. I broke hearts and lost friends all because of this wall, this divide I NEEDED to create. And here I am doing the same thing again.

According to my Mom, I’ve always been a runner. And according to my Dad, I left a string of broken hearts across NE Ohio. In fact, E is the only thing that has made me stand still. He has grounded me. So of course I am thankful for that. I have him, and he IS going through this with me. He sees my pain and my struggles. But I still don’t think he gets it completely.

I am completely rambling today. I have a lot on my mind and T Minus 4 sleeps until my surgery. I’m scared, overwhelmed and ready for this to be over. I don’t know how people ttc for years on end. I suppose I would, if I had to (but Dear God, I pray I don’t have to), but I am over it. This sucks.




Too often we focus on our problems in life, the minor to major annoyances, the aches and pains. This journey has taught me that survival is dependent on my ability to stay thankful. E and I have a little routine, every single day we talk about things that make us happy and good things that happened that day. If you are struggling with anything, I encourage you to try the same! Say it out loud, “I am thankful for…”

Today I am thankful for:
Coffee and blue berry muffins
Fur babies who snuggle with me when they know I’m in pain
A husband who always keeps my on my toes
Laughing with E about any and everything
Sunday mornings watching bad tv
Aleve and a bubble bath that helped calm my pain at 5am
Parents that gave me a fairy tale childhood
3 Siblings that make me laugh
A job to dread going to tomorrow morning
Friends that make that job bearable
Living in the south after 27 brutal winters in Ohio
This journey, that will undoubtedly teach me to cherish the children I WILL have one day!

Happy New Year?

ImageI woke up this morning, the very first day of 2014, a day full of hope for changes and a new year, to a snapchat from one of my BEST friends…. of her positive pregnancy test. Insensitive much? Sure, there is no good way to tell someone struggling with infertility that you are pregnant, but being that this woman knows my struggles and is one of my closest friends, I expected something more. I expected a phone call. I would have settled for a text even. But I get a snap chat.

This further confirms my belief that those who have never struggled with infertility will NEVER understand. They will never fully grasp the depth of your sadness, loneliness and anger. They will never have the words to say to make it better. In fact, chances are they will say all the wrong things.

So I shed a few tears, sucked it up and told her congrats. As a former mean girl, what I really wanted to do in that moment was call her an insensitive bitch. But I didn’t. And I won’t. Because she just doesn’t get it and she never will.