I haven't written in a while. Not because I don't have anything to say, and not because infertility has magically disappeared from my life (although I can't say I don't wish it would)...What was that ecard I saw a while back? Oh, I remember, "I wish I could punch infertility in the face. She is such a bitch". It's true; I do, and she is.
The truth is, I have just been very busy with life, but very lazy with writing. So tonight, I decided I needed to write. I typed the title of my blog into Google, and to my surprise, a lot more then just my blog that popped up. I saw that people pinned my blog on their Pinterest board, it has been put on blog rolls, other people (including an author) have linked it to their Facebook page! How cool and humbling and emotional for me to see the impact that my blog is having on other people. My goal with this blog was to help me in my healing process, to be a voice and an advocate for the infertile community, and reach just one woman who felt like she was alone. And I am excited that all of those things are happening!
You know, people tell me how strong I am for enduring infertility and miscarriages, and how brave I am for sharing my story, but I'm not. It has taken me many years to get to a place where I can acknowledge and talk about my experiences and share private information with all of you without breaking down into tears and/or going into a depression. In fact, I still have bad days, sometimes several in a row. It's just that I have learned how to acknowledge those days and those feelings, but then move on and not let it control my life. Infertility no longer defines me, but it is a very important part of who I am now.
For the first several years of our infertility journey, I was in a constant state of depression and isoloation. I was angry and it affected all of my relationships; including my marriage. My low point came when my husband told me he just didn't know how to help me anymore, and didn't know what I expected of him. And when he indicated to me that he felt less important, and that he felt he was coming 2nd to me getting pregnant and us having a child, that hit me like a brick. I was risking the well-being of my marriage because I was letting infertility control me, and I was refusing to acknowledge that what I was facing (infertility and recurrent miscarriage) was a very real medical, physical, mental and emotional issue that wasn't just going to go away or get better. I needed to talk to a professional for my sake, for the sake of my marriage, and for the sake of my relationships with my family and friends. So, I decided to seek out a counselor.
Around August of 2011, I started seeing a counselor. She has helped me understand that what I was feeling was grief. I was, and still am, grieving the loss of the lives my husband and I created; greiving the loss of the children we should have; grieving the loss of the ability to do what I believed my body was supposed to do; grieving the loss of what I believed our future was going to be. And there were a lot of other things that the grief over my infertility and miscarriages brought up. Seeing a counselor has been one of the best decisions I have made. It has been about two years since I started seeing my counselor, and a little over 5 years that we have been battling infertility. So, its not that I am brave or strong or anything like that. It's just that I have gained some insight and experience through this very difficicult ordeal. And part of the insight I have gained is that in order to heal, and in order to help other people, and in order to educate and reach people, I have to be able to be honest and open, but that realization has taken a lot of time.
A funny thing happened on the way to infertility; I found a silver lining.