I think this post should come with a trigger warning. Or at least a severe ranty warning. I’ll see how I go…
I’m starting to let it out.
The hurt of losing another pregnancy has been made much more unbearable due to the close proximity of the last one. I get that my doctor thinks I’m just unlucky because I’ve had a “live baby” but I do not find the luck reasoning consoling at all. First of all I want to say “why me?” Why am I so fudging unlucky all the time? Haven’t I had my fair share already?
I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, I don’t do drugs. Hell, I don’t even stay up until midnight on new years eve. I take all the vitamins plus more that is prescribed to me and have luke-warm showers as soon as I see that little line and still, still it is not enough.
I am a good, no, great mother. I miss Little Man at night when he goes to bed and genuinely look forward to the morning for his chatter to wake me up. My whole existence is dedicated to him and how I can make his life better and I know this could easily be shared. Not that I have to explain myself as to why I am a great mother, put simply – I know I am.
We were at peace with the decision to not try until next year, if at all, but no, this contentment wasn’t good enough for Life. Life thought “hey, let’s mess with these people some more and see how much they can take, just for shiz and giggles”.
Life thought it would be a good idea to let me fall pregnant naturally after months of invasive fertility treatment but not let me keep it, even for a little while. Life thought it would be fun to give me horrendous cramps when Hubby is away working knowing I would be on my own. Life thought That Weekend wasn’t enough of a nightmare.
I really don’t know if I have it in me to try again. I pride myself on being a strong and resilient person so I’m not giving up, maybe just giving in. Conceding to the idea that our journey is ending. As I mentioned recently, pregnancy is not fun for me anymore. The idea of trying to get pregnant and achieving this is not exciting. To see a positive line would fling me into feelings of anxiousness just waiting for the bleeding and cramps to start. At this moment in time I feel like I would just be waiting.
I have LM and he is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Maybe because of everything Life has thrown at us these past few years I appreciate him more than your average parent. I don’t know if this is true because I’m sure everyone thinks that way but it takes every effort in my bones to not watch him sleep all night, to not want to hold him every moment of every day, to not worry about the day he starts kindergarten and is away from me.
The one thing I really want to say to Life is that it is not a crime to want two children. I am not being greedy. Just because I’m fertility challenged does not mean I can’t desire more than one child. You wouldn’t think badly of a “normal” person wanting and having multiple children so why do you make me feel like I am the worst person in the world for wanting it too? Just because I know how fortunate I am doesn’t mean I should be punished for trying again, or in the example of Peanut, simply daring to ovulate.
From the age of sixteen when I was told I would find it difficult to have children (thanks doctors for breaking it to me at such a young age by the way) my whole life has been dictated by this simple dream. I had to make decisions that others didn’t have to think about. Conversations with Hubby that it might not happen for us and what does that mean for our relationship is just one example. Do you think that I’ve not lived with this overwhelming pressure and heartache enough? No, of course you don’t because you did it to me again didn’t you. But guess what Life, I’m still standing. I’ve been playing this game for as long as you have been messing with me and I choose… I choose to be grateful for what I have. Thankful for my baby boy, my strong marriage and supportive family and friends. I choose to love you Life. I can’t hate you because you have also given me so much. I want to throttle you at times but, I guess, we’re in this together.
Take my hand, let’s bury the hatchet. I don’t want to be angry with you anymore.
Until next time,
Note: Don’t feel that you have to comment on this post. This is just something I had to get out and I can’t think of a secluded enough place where I could scream it. It was actually very therapeutic. Obviously if you’d like to comment please do – I love getting them! All I meant from the above note is that this is a positive post for me regardless of the actual subject matter.