One small Step

seleni.org

EH and I went to our first support group session this week. It was a big step for me. I was on the verge of a full on meltdown most every day and EH has been pushing for us to see someone. So we searched on the web and found a place in NY that actually specializes in infertility counseling and took our butts to it at 8:30 in the morning.

We were crazy tired when we got to the city and stopped to get some coffee and some breakfast and talk about our fears. My biggest fear was that it wouldn't work. That I would have this help and still be lost in my sadness. EH feared that it was some kind of scientology off shoot and that they would try to convert us; but then I reminded him that scientologists don't believe in mental health care so there was no chance of that. That's my husband! Always with the comic relief ;-)

We arrived at the group only to find that we were the only ones there. I had mixed feelings about it because I really wanted to sit back and listen, maybe hide behind everyone else's pain before talking about my own. The atmosphere was so therapeutic--all cream and white and soothing--that I couldn't help but feel safe and warm and talkative. EH and I sat on the couch together and told our infertility story and shared what we had been through so far. I wanted to cry a few times but I held it together. I didn't want to dissolve into a mess in our first session. Our therapist was great and that was good because I really didn't wanna spend the time analyzing her technique. That would have been a barrier to getting the help I needed.

There were some revelations too. I admitted that I wanted to keep knitting the blanket I had started for Little P. I had been afraid to pick it up again because I didn't want to upset EH. EH admitted that he hated seeing me cry because it made him feel powerless. I admitted that I felt ambiguous about starting treatment again--on the one hand I felt like we had to keep going and on the other hand I wondered what the point was. EH admitted that he didn't realize how much he needed to talk about our losses.

All in all it felt soooo good to just spill our guts to someone who was there to listen. We decided that we're going to keep going until the end of the summer sessions and take it from there. I was surprised by how much better I felt and I even treated myself to a pedicure afterward while EH went to work. As I was in the chair, I could feel all the stress that I'd been holding in for the past month drain away. I felt limp like my bones had turned to liquid. It felt good and bad at the same time. When I got home I slept for about four hours and woke up somewhat refreshed.

Since then, I've just been taking one step at a time trying to keep up with my running schedule. I know that if I don't go running I'll be in the house all day feeling sad. I'm back on my Metformin regimen although it's making me a bit more nauseous than usual and I'm not losing as much weight on it as I did before. I try to remind myself that the weight loss is a side effect and not the purpose of the treatment but, like any woman, I get happy when the number on the scale decreases.When EH gets home we eat dinner, he works on assignments, we watch something from our netflix queue and stumble into bed.

I knit; weaving the yarn between my fingers, pulling it taut, letting it hang loose imagining the baby we will have someday, mourning the ones we lost and trying to knit myself back together.

A Time For Everything

Last night I was standing in the kitchen simultaneously cooking dinner and washing the dishes. I had been sitting on our couch for most of the day reading and watching television, thinking about my negative pregnancy tests. I took three of them this past week. I told myself that I wasn't really trying but aren't we always trying? I started to play the blame game with myself. If you had eaten better....if you had lost more weight....if you hadn't waited until you were 30...it went on and on and on.

When I start to get like this the only help is distraction, getting busy, using my hands. It's why I'm a dynamo at cleaning a house or doing a home improvement project. I took myself out of the house yesterday to do some laundry. What a difference it made to get out of the house for a little while. I watched an episode of a baby story with an African American couple where the mother had a stillborn and another miscarriage before taking a daughter home. I thought to myself, "geez, I couldn't deal with that...wonder how she did that?" Her husband was super supportive. This woman was on bed rest for most of her pregnancy. He put together the nursery and stocked it. When it came time for her scheduled c-section you could see the fear in his eyes. I knew exactly what he was feeling...something could still go wrong, this is too good to be true.

I fight fear and doubt every day. Sometimes I don't succeed and end up a sniveling mess over the kitchen sink crying big, heaving, ugly tears. I don't even know what specifically set me off...was it the episode I watched? was it the children running around in the laundromat? was it the announcement that my good friend's baby is a boy? It was all of these things. A culmination of sorrows.

My husband walked through the door to find me a mess, crying in the kitchen. I had thrown myself into cooking lasagna and cleaning...because I wanted to feel like a woman. It was strange because I'm definitely not a "traditional" woman in the sense that I applaud working women but I do value the importance of staying home if you can. I know these feelings of unworthiness come from my own lack of mothering. The scars are deep and painful and they spur me on to have my own children, re-write the wrongs and do it better.

When I finally calmed myself down, we had a good dinner, had  a great talk about where we are right now. I started to feel grateful  for all the blessings I do have instead of the ones I haven't received yet. El Hubster's favorite phrase for me is "We're on track, gal!" It speaks to my type A personality's need to be working toward a goal.

I learned that I'm gonna have really shitty days and I shouldn't beat myself up for it
I learned that I am capable of feeling joy
I learned that I am blessed to have such a support at home
I learned that I am blessed to be able to stay at home during this time

I took comfort from Ecclesiastes 3:

There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:

²     a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,
³     a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,
⁴     a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,
⁵     a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
⁶     a time to search and a time to give up,
    a time to keep and a time to throw away,
⁷     a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,
⁸     a time to love and a time to hate,
    a time for war and a time for peace.

⁹ What do workers gain from their toil? ¹⁰ I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. ¹¹ He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet^[a] no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.

Dark Night of the Soul

Last night was a doozy.

I emailed a friend of mine yesterday just to see how she was doing. She's been riding the infertility roller coaster for much longer than I have and now has a little boy just over 1year old. I thank God for her success because it means there may be hope for me yet. So, I emailed to see how her second round of treatments is going and imagine my surprise. SHE'S HAVING TWINS!! I felt such joy for her. I know how long she's struggled, how long she'd prayed for the first miracle and now God has given her two more additions to her family. I thought about how great it was that my absolute best friend in the world was also pregnant. She too has had losses and it is gratifying to see that her dreams are coming true. After being told by her GYN that she had the eggs of a menopausal woman, things got very real for her. She's not in the place where she would like to be in bringing a child into the world but, I gotta tell you, infertility makes you ready. If God could pass His hand over my stomach right now and make me pregnant, I would say Please and Thank You!

So, you'll understand how shocked I was when my joy turned to absolute despair. I sat back on the couch while El Hubster and I were watching television and started to think. I got hit hard with my own doubts and fears..what if it doesn't happen for me? Am I getting excited about the possibility of motherhood only to be crushed in the end?

I confess I'm a bottler of emotions. I can go and go for weeks on end not thinking about anything that will make me emotional but it always catches up to me. I wanted to avoid a total breakdown so I decided to get off my ass and out of the house for some me time. I hit up El Hubster for some cash and went out to breakfast,  had a pedicure and then to Barnes & Noble where I knew I could find solace surrounded by the things I love the most. And I did find solace..for a while. I came home high on hope and ready to post on that.

And then I got an invitation for a baby shower for one of the women at my church. I know it seems minor but it was the literal straw that broke MY back. The thought of sitting around celebrating even more baby joy made me sick. I was so relieved when I saw that I had a licensing review course on that day...all day. I was thankful for that because that meant I wouldn't have to lie when I declined the invitation.

I immediately texted El Hubster and told him I wasn't going. Now, El Hubster is not the most social of people. In fact, he can be downright antisocial at times. So, I was surprised when he told me that he would go and represent both of us. Bless him. I didn't want to put a damper on what is a happy occasion for my church friend.

When El Hubster got home he suggested we go to a late night diner near us and relax for a while...maybe have a pastry. He's always up for a pastry!! We get to the diner and are seated at a booth. El Hubster and I spend a lot of time gabbing about politics and our days and all seems right with the world. At some point I look over and see that there's a happy Black couple seated near us with their infant daughter. She's dressed all in pink; pink dress, pink hairband, pink socks. I begin to lose it in the diner, crying hysterically. El Hubster
comes around to my side of the booth to comfort me and also to make sure I don't cause a scene that I'll regret later. My mind is screaming. My heart is screaming. How Long! How Long! How Long? How Long will I have to wait for my promise?

I'm crying because I see US in that happy Black couple. The grass is always greener. Who knows what they're going through or have been through. But in that moment they are happy. They are a family. It was only after the couple left with their bundle of joy that I was able to get myself together. I felt bad about how I reacted. It's not in my nature to be emotional in public. But I'm a bottler. When you bottle things up and mishandle them, they explode.

I imagine that God is going through all of this with me. I want to feel that He is by my side, His arm over my shoulder, shushing me and patting my back. It is in these moments that I realize I need Him more than ever if I'm going to get through this. And Believe Me infertility is something to get through.

El Hubster and I became Christian together about five years ago. We church shopped trying to find a place to belong. We finally found a place at the recommendation of an acquaintance and instantly felt at home. At the time, the pastor asked us how we had come to faith. El Hubster was a Catholic in his younger years, which is the affiliation of most Dominicans, but had been searching for something "more solid" for years. I was into everything but Christianity. It was our love for each other that led us to Faith. We couldn't believe that two very different people could meet and fall in love...who else could have done that but God?

Recently, the church that has fed us for three years has had some changes and is no longer feeding us spiritually. We have grown in our Christian journey and realize that we need more than a sermon on Sunday. Church has become routine and less and less relevant for us as time has gone on. We're still figuring out how to navigate these new feelings and preserve our faith. We don't know what this will look like as they're aren't that many options in our neighborhood but we're committed to exploring together.

This post was a doozy....had to get it out..

In other news, here's a pic of my pedicure...