This could be a difficult post to write, but I decided to be honest about my feelings.
The Monday after we returned from Chicago, I saw my therapist for the first time since she went on maternity leave end of March. As you may know, from March until now, we had had a whole lot that happened. Updating her on all the ups and downs of choosing a donor, identification of potential scar tissue during a saline sonogram, failed hysteroscopy with my RE, and all the pregnant women at work took more than half of our time together. I was also sharing with her about my feelings at around that time. That was about two weeks ago. I was feeling very… isolated. Why? Well, here is the reason. I felt that every other person, infertile or fertile, was pregnant, was matched for an adoption, or had given birth. News was just piling up everyday. At around that time, a few of my secret FB group friends got their long awaited BFP after suffering secondary infertility for a long time. It was just difficult for me to even click “like” on a post or comment with a “Congratulations”. And then another group of online friends that I have was sharing good news about two BFPs with their third pregnancy. Another member of this group was matched for a baby that would be born in a few weeks. Since I have been friends with them for a few years, I witnessed their struggles with conceiving number two, finally getting pregnant, and giving birth. Now they got good news again. I normally would be okay with this kind of news one at a time. But when bombarded with one after another, I just could not take it anymore. That feeling of being lapped… and still waiting for a baby, is not the best feeling. And then, some of my best blogging-turned-real-life friends have given birth. I love these friends and I really can’t get enough of their babies. I keep asking for the babies’ pictures, seek out their news, and feel tremendous joy for them that they are finally mothers after a very long wait and all the heartaches of losses. However, at the same time, I just experienced sadness for myself. The joy I saw on their faces and from their words just amplified the emptiness inside of me that I sometimes feel and served as a huge reminder of what I didn’t have.
It is so complicated to be infertile. You want your friends to be successful because that’s the ultimate goal for everybody. If everyone was miserable and could not achieve pregnancy, then there would be no hope for anyone else. At the same time, you feel like the only one who is left behind (which is not true). At that time, we were still waiting for the hysteroscopy to be done. The in-house donor that we were interested in was no where to be found. It just felt like I could not get a break. I am so glad that the meeting with my therapist happened at that time. I told her all these feelings, and even had a little guilt that I was feeling these emotions about my friends. I told her that I felt sad but at the same time happy for them, and I knew that it is okay and possible to feel both. It’s one thing to know that it’s okay. It’s another thing to be confirmed by a professional who acted as my sounding board. She reminded me to do what I have been doing: taking things one day at a time. On that day, just focus on getting through with the hysteroscopy that would take place in two days, and not to worry about those feelings. I know how fleeting these feelings are. Because after a successful hysteroscopy, clearance from my RE to move forward with a donor, confirmation of the donor availability, and turning in our signed contracts and paying the fee for the agency, I am feeling so much better these past few days.
It goes to tell you (and me) that having those feelings in one moment does not mean that they will last forever. Just acknowledge having them, hang tight, and hopefully they will eventually pass. As they did for me.