Fertility issues (I will not refer to our problems as Infertility, nor do I refer to it as “Secondary Infertility”, because I feel doing so would trivialize the problems my friends are living daily- those who suffer from the pure heartbreaking reality of Infertility. No, we are just a couple who have problems trying to conceive) make you think in ways you never thought possible. Realists begin thinking all they need is that magic XXXX and they will get pregnant, whether it be dealing with erection issues, or sperm count issues, ovulating problems or cysts; you look to whatever it is that will “fix” the problem (if the problem can be fixed) as the miracle you need.
Then, when that miracle happens (or kind of happens, or your problem is seemingly getting fixed), and you’re still not pregnant… well. That’s a whole new level of disappointment. You think, “But wasn’t that all that was keeping us from getting pregnant?” To find out that even for those months when all the planets align, and God himself is all, “Go forth and multiply, my children. Doggy-style”, that you STILL have just that same 20% chance of regular normal couples with no issues, you want to hit something. I’m not ashamed to say that I thought once our issues began working themselves out would mean we could get pregnant right away.
Nope. Not at all ashamed of that. I have to think I’m not the only person who has thought that, you know? I know they say most couples with normal functioning bodies and normal sex lives will get pregnant by one year. Dude. One year??? As month six goes by with nary a pregnancy (nary is such an awesome word), I have to think about all the months that we actually had things right for us, and unlike last time, with Piper’s conception, there are more months with everything kind of working as it should than months that were busts. I had thought someone up there would take pity on us, on my friends who have been waiting FAR longer than I have for this. You know, maybe be all, “Hey, I know you’ve been taking meds that give you hot flashes and make your ovaries hurt, here you go. BABY. You’re welcome.” or “Hey girl, I heard you’re injecting yourself with some scary shit. Ya know, I think it’s about time you get this- BAM- EMBRYO.” Hell, I’d even settle for a “Yo, I know you put your butt up on some pillows with your legs in the air for 40 minutes while desperately needing to pee and also doing kegels that made your vag hurt for two days, I’m going to go ahead and give you this… FETUS. WHADDUP. Also. Here’s a new pillow since you ruined yours.”
I guess it doesn’t work that way, though. It’s more along the lines of “What, you think you’re better than that couple who just started trying last week? Yeah, no. Which reminds me, I’m going to go ahead and give them a baby. Yep. OH, and they will be one of those intolerant pregnant women who talks about it ALL.THE.TIME, whining about the unfairness of siblings not caring about their pregnancies, or griping about how hard it is to have such great abs that their belly hasn’t popped yet. Yeah, and you’ll need to see it every day, every new post they put on Facebook, slowly driving you insane with envy and rage until you just stop visiting that group all together. Oh yeah, AND, to add to the fun of your miserable sex-planning life- here, your best friends will get pregnant again, too. And you’re going to be so jealous and so petty that you will barely be able to eke out a congratulations without sobbing. And those friends will be so kind to you, so understanding that you’ll be glad to have them… as well as glad to have the distance you are forcing between you. You’ll rocket from sadness to feeling ungrateful to plain anger. You’ll warn them away, ‘There’s a chance I could lose my shit on you’, you’ll say. You’ll fear that you’ll lose the friends you had because of your jealousy and when deep in the middle of your misery, you’ll kind of be happy about it. All the easier to deal with pregnancy announcements. So yeah, sorry about that, honey. Just kidding, not sorry at all.”
There are those who deal with this SO MUCH BETTER than I do. Than I have. I am so in awe of these women, these friends of mine. I quite honestly don’t know how they do it.
Instead of being hopeful ALL the time, I instead focus on things in the future. I think, “Okay, if I’m not pregnant, I can still go to Disneyland and ride on Indiana Jones Adventure. I can go on Tower of Terror one last time before I get pregnant.” I kind of bargain with myself, you know? People have warned me that I’m likely going to lose friends due to my inability to deal with their pregnancies. Paul is even beginning to question it, “They are pregnant, but it doesn’t take anything away from YOU. Why are you so sad?”
Fertility issues suck balls. Yes, I get the irony of that sentence.