Loss seems to be a common theme right now for me. Pretty much the same loss, played out over and over again, leaving me with this fresh, raw, open wound each time, as if I had not already gone through a year of mourning and healing.
See, the thing about being infertile is that you can come to accept it and you think you are OK, and that you have your plan and one day you will have your family, then WAM, out of nowhere something will remind you of the loss that you were certain you were over. And you again realize that infertility is one of those things that you never completely heal from, that lingers, always somewhere in your mind just waiting to jump out and carry with it a rush of tears that you thought had dried up.
And that is what happened again to me today, while sitting on a plane, surrounded by three families all with beautiful little boys under the age of two. And it was in that comforting darkness, of a late night flight, that I found tears rolling down my face. Feeling sorry for myself, I once again began wondering why this is my life, why infertility is my struggle, why something that is so natural to millions of women will never be for me.
As I am sure you can tell, there are times where I think that my diagnosis must have been incorrect and I am filled with hope that anything is possible and that I might just one day be surprised with a positive pregnancy test. Then reality sets in, and I am once again reminded that the chance of that happening is pretty much non-existent. It doesn't really matter if I get myself into a regular cycle, or if my FSH goes down to an OK level, in the end, no matter what I do, I can't recreate the genetic materials that are missing from my body. All I can do is move forward and continue to remind myself that in the end, everything will be OK, that there is a reason behind everything and one day I will look back with a greater understanding than I have today and feel comforted in the fact that I kept pushing through those hidden tears hoping for a better tomorrow.
See, the thing about being infertile is that you can come to accept it and you think you are OK, and that you have your plan and one day you will have your family, then WAM, out of nowhere something will remind you of the loss that you were certain you were over. And you again realize that infertility is one of those things that you never completely heal from, that lingers, always somewhere in your mind just waiting to jump out and carry with it a rush of tears that you thought had dried up.
And that is what happened again to me today, while sitting on a plane, surrounded by three families all with beautiful little boys under the age of two. And it was in that comforting darkness, of a late night flight, that I found tears rolling down my face. Feeling sorry for myself, I once again began wondering why this is my life, why infertility is my struggle, why something that is so natural to millions of women will never be for me.
As I am sure you can tell, there are times where I think that my diagnosis must have been incorrect and I am filled with hope that anything is possible and that I might just one day be surprised with a positive pregnancy test. Then reality sets in, and I am once again reminded that the chance of that happening is pretty much non-existent. It doesn't really matter if I get myself into a regular cycle, or if my FSH goes down to an OK level, in the end, no matter what I do, I can't recreate the genetic materials that are missing from my body. All I can do is move forward and continue to remind myself that in the end, everything will be OK, that there is a reason behind everything and one day I will look back with a greater understanding than I have today and feel comforted in the fact that I kept pushing through those hidden tears hoping for a better tomorrow.