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The Stages of Infertility
Oct. 20th, 2009 11:13 pmI've been thinking a lot about infertility again lately. It is a constant companion, but one that only comes to the forefront of my mind in each passing month, yet grips my full attention every so often. I've done pretty well lately - other than a brief bought of obsession around Mother's Day (incidently the only other time in the last year that I've ovulated) - despite collegues who are pregnant and one who recently suffered a loss.
But, when I am got in its grip, it seems to take over everything, and each time it is like dealing with the inherent loss all over again. It's almost as if I have to go through the stages of grief all over again, every time. Not like losing an actual child, or even like my miscarriages, it is more like I hav allowed myself to once again be caught up in the potential, the wishing and hoping, and the 'just maybe', and now have to come to terms with that loss. It is in a way never ending, even if you become a veteran of such skirmishes.
It's the denial that gets us in trouble. Anger is a near constant companion. Acceptance, when we get there is hard won, and sometimes fleeting, but it's that bargaining that always gets me.
*snorts*
You think after so many years, I wouldn't believe in fairy tales any more - and yet, it's the only thing I have to cling to - you know, not having an actual baby. Which is all really rather pathetic of me, considering I am finally taking care of myself, getting ready to graduate with a degree and possible employment in a field I absolutely love, and life is going pretty damn well, if I let it. And yet, I am being maudlin and obsessive, as if I received my diagnosis last week instead of 16 years ago. wtf?
But, when I am got in its grip, it seems to take over everything, and each time it is like dealing with the inherent loss all over again. It's almost as if I have to go through the stages of grief all over again, every time. Not like losing an actual child, or even like my miscarriages, it is more like I hav allowed myself to once again be caught up in the potential, the wishing and hoping, and the 'just maybe', and now have to come to terms with that loss. It is in a way never ending, even if you become a veteran of such skirmishes.
It's the denial that gets us in trouble. Anger is a near constant companion. Acceptance, when we get there is hard won, and sometimes fleeting, but it's that bargaining that always gets me.
My fairy godmother will come down and grant me a perfectly happy, healthy, beautiful baby (or two or three) and while she's at it, I want to glow with personal beauty, not really gain any weight, to actually end up so perfect that I am more physically fit at the end of my pregnancy than the beginning of it. If she also wants to throw in some money to get us a beautiful house and to care for our beautiful baby/babies all the better, because of course, pregnancy will make everything all better.
*snorts*
You think after so many years, I wouldn't believe in fairy tales any more - and yet, it's the only thing I have to cling to - you know, not having an actual baby. Which is all really rather pathetic of me, considering I am finally taking care of myself, getting ready to graduate with a degree and possible employment in a field I absolutely love, and life is going pretty damn well, if I let it. And yet, I am being maudlin and obsessive, as if I received my diagnosis last week instead of 16 years ago. wtf?
