Sometimes I just pretend like everything is fine and that I’m perfectly content with how things are going, and I’m looking on the sunny side, and we’re going to make it after all! and all that optimistic business. But then sometimes I get PMS and not only does it depress me because I know that this is yet again not my month, it also likes to throw me some gigantic hormonal swings that make me about as pleasant to be around as a rabid dog.
In this week of emotional eating and cry fests, I think I’ve narrowed down what the hardest part of infertility is for me. This wasn’t an easy task because let’s face it, there’s not a whole lot of happy associated with the disease. The hardest part of infertility for me is
not knowing. Not knowing how much longer you’ll have to wait. Not knowing if the treatments will be successful. Not knowing if you’ll ever be parents. At first (and in the case of unexplained infertility) not knowing why you can’t get pregnant. Not knowing why this happens to anyone. Not knowing if the pain will ever end.
As hopeful as I try to remain, the not knowing part tears me down a little everyday.
Thank you for letting me pout for the day. Thank you for your words of encouragement.
painting by Deedee Cheriel