Wednesday, July 27, 2011
The bottom of the barrel
I knew it would happen eventually, but it doesn't make it any easier. 2 of the 12 girls in my infertility group found out they are pregnant this week. One was a surprise, the other the result of IVF.
While the group is thrilled for them as I am for any infertile couple when they finally get that elusive BFP, I understand they are scared too. Surprise pregnancy lady has had several miscarriages so that's obviously in the back of her mind, while the IVF lady has never been pregnant before & is scared this may still not finally be *it* for her. And at the same time, they endorsed a bit of what you might call "survivor's guilt" for the 10 of us who are not pregnant: they are thrilled to be in the positions they are in, yet they feel like they have betrayed their identity as infertiles, have let their fellow infertiles down by joining "the other side", full of people who got pregnant by simply having sex at the right time. It seems that infertility truly robs you of the ability to enjoy your pregnancy; if I ever see the other side of this I know that I will likely experience some of the same feelings as they have.
These 2 women are proof that infertiles *can*, in fact, conceive; hopefully they now stay pregnant. So there's a sliver of hope for us all. But at the same time, their pregnancies are just another cruel, cruel reminder of the fact that if someone is successful with ART (them), others are not (me).
Really, I try not to be a Debbie Downer about things, but honestly? Not only am I a part of that reported 1 in 8 couples who have trouble conceiving, I'm now one of that uber-tiny percentage with multiple failed medicated cycles. I mean, over 3 mother#%&!ing years& still nothing? No protocol has worked. No break cycle surprise. And while I know we haven't done IVF yet, I have all but convinced myself that it too will not work. And in the meantime, it seems I'm watching all my once infertile compatriots, both on the interwebs & in real life, finally get their baby/babies while I'm still here, still an infertile.
And as a therapist, I know negative self talk isn't good for you, but it's so damn hard to fake a smile & convince myself this isn't the end some days. I feel like I'm on the bottom of the barrel. It's dark. And I'm scared I may never see the light of my child's smile.