This is What Infertility Feels Like
These blog posts about Our Infertility Story took me a really long time to write. Struggling to do them is an understatement. In all honestly, I never thought I would ever talk publicly about what we went through. I hated the thought of reliving that part of my life and feared judgment. One day everything changed when I realized I could use our story for good.
Now… I have talked about The Beginning of our story, and the whole IVF Process, the Transfer Day and the Days That Followed it, but I have never really dug deep and expressed what infertility does to you emotionally.
So today I’m going to do that. It might be a little all over the place because I’m just writing emotions as I replay them in my mind, but I’ll do my best.
This is What Infertility Feels Like:
It’s pretty easy to tap into a lot of the memories of our infertility journey. It’s not hard to remember what the office looked like or how amazing the staff was. I can tell you the names of every medication I took and could probably even remember the majority of the dosages and frequency in which I took them.
The hard things to remember are the raw feelings that you experience. The feelings that very few people talk about.
Some of the emotional aspect of infertility is heightened by the medications but the majority is a reflection of the realization that you are broken. Like a car that doesn’t drive anymore, an infertile female body is incapable of serving one of it’s main purposes; to make and carry a child.
When you want to be a mother and you physically can’t; that’s rough.
Going through fertility treatments is just a constant reminder that something is wrong with you. Every shot, ultrasound, blood draw, negative pregnancy test; they’re all reminders that you can’t just get pregnant like many of your friends and family can.
In the darkest moments of infertility anyone could’ve promised me that everything was going to be fine but I wouldn’t have believed them. A positive outcome seems far fetched and you get to a point where you are numb to the bad news. Every phone call telling you that your levels aren’t right, your body isn’t responding, it all becomes second nature.
There are moments when you sit and cry for hours. You push away your family and friends.
You feel empty.
I can remember so many missed dinners with our family and evenings out with friends. Jesse would run errands on the weekends and I would sit at home. It didn’t occur to me then, but he was alone too.
When we went through marriage preparation we spent a lot of time talking with our priest about our future. We made a timeline. We had a plan. Infertility wasn’t in the plan.
Why did my husband have to go through this? It was all my fault. He would be the most amazing father but because of me that couldn’t happen.
I felt so much guilt.
So much anger towrds myself.
My family and friends were amazing. They tried so hard to help me. In my mind nobody could possibly understand what I was going through.
They all had babies and I didn’t want to be around them. It hurt. I didn’t want to admit it to myself but I was so jealous.
Why did they get to have babies and we couldn’t?
I remember telling God daily, “I will be a good mom; I promise! Just give us a baby and I will show you!”
I would look through quotes and sayings; anything that would make me feel better.
I was trapped in my own mind.
Walking through the grocery store was torture. In those situations you become the most judgmental person ever. There were teenagers and other people that clearly had children that weren’t planned.
Why them and not us!?
We were ready!
The amount of anger and resentment that builds up is completely unreal.
I stayed away from my nieces and nephews and anyone else under the age of 5 basically. Anyone that announced that they were pregnant was undeserving (in my mind at the time).
The feelings were ugly.
Everyday it seemed like someone was posting about how annoyed they were with their child or how they needed a break. If I’m being honest, I wanted to slap them all in the face.
In the depths of infertility you would give anything, ANYTHING IN THIS WORLD, to have a baby crying in your ear or throwing a tantrum in the middle of Walmart. Who cares about any of that? Having a child is a blessing!
Infertility makes you a different person.
I look back now, now that I have my baby boy, and wonder how I ever let something effect me like that.
How could I have possibly been that sad?
I didn’t know it at the time but, eventually, everything was going to be ok.
It was going to work out.
The road was going to be long but the end result, our baby Kreed, would be so so SO worth it.
When you want something badly enough, you will go to the ends of the Earth to get it.
In the case of infertility that could mean taking medications, going further down the road and doing IVF, or in some cases choosing adoption.
If you are struggling with infertility, please don’t fall victim to these feelings and if you do, know that you’re not alone and that it’s ok to feel the way that you’re feeling!
Cling to your family and friends for support don’t push them away! Don’t bottle everything up.
I wrote our story hoping that it would ignite hope in others and start a conversation about a topic that not many people know about and even fewer truly understand.
Please know that if you need someone to talk to; I’m here and I will do my best to help you through it.
You aren’t alone.
Never give up.