I Miss Infertility

These were the words conveyed to me via an email from a former blogger about a month before Aitch was born in 2008. She had gone through infertility herself and was trying to find her land-legs as a post-infertility-slash-mommy-blogger. Her exact words follow:

“Slap me now, but it makes me miss infertility a little bit.  The answer was always right there.  Why am I not happy?  INFERTILITY!  And there was really very little need to look beyond that because infertility is huge and all-consuming.  All other problems get shunted aside.”

These words were like a bolt of lightning the first time I read them.

They now shake me to the core with their foreshadowing truth.

For years infertility was my scapegoat.

Depressed? It was because another negative beta; a poor ovarian response; an inevitable miscarriage.

Weight gain? I blamed the hormone injections and birth-control pills month after month.

Aversion to gatherings of friends and family? I didn’t want to hear about “God’s Plans” or how “if it was meant to be, it’ll be” or the pitiful looks when they found out that I wasn’t going to stay pregnant.

Irritability at home towards Sparring Partner and/or Doodicus? They were collateral damage in my week to week failings as a wife and mother.

So what do I blame now? Infertility was my security blanket I was able to wrap around myself and hide under – to veil the truth that was beyond what I thought was The Problem. In my head, I know what IT is, but in my heart I just don’t want IT to be THAT because I have tried to convince myself I have nothing to be depressed about. I got what I went after, a sibling to my son who is everything and so much more than I could have dreamed. I beat infertility.

Yeah…I miss infertility.


15 thoughts on “I Miss Infertility”

  1. Oh, sweetie. You sound so sad and lost. How I wish I could come over there and give you a big hug. It wouldn’t make anything go away, but heck, it just needs to be done.

  2. I think that unhappiness can be a habit or a way of life even. We get used to thinking unhappy thoughts and even when the reason for the unhappiness is gone we keep up with the habit. It is hard to change habit, especially since we lie to ourselves. Do you know what I mean?

  3. This is why I started going to counseling after Sam came home. I couldn’t understand why I was still so angry and depressed when I finally had my dream. I really needed the help to come to terms with everything (and I mean EVERYTHING, not just IF) that had happened to me. A year and a half later, I’m feeling much better and much more comfortable in my own skin.

    Hugging you from here.

  4. I bet you never thought you’d say that. But yeah, the “good ol’ days” of infertility blogging did have a bit of camaraderie that’s gone now, didn’t they? It’s a whole different ballgame.

  5. You know the Cymbalta commercials? Who DOESN’T have sadness or feelings of worthlessness on a daily basis. I know I do, but do I consider myself depressed? nope. Am I sad? Do I feel unloved by the 1 man i want to love me back? absofuckinlutley. Am I unappreciated and treated like the “hired help” by my family? Youbetcha. What can I do about it? nothing. I just keep on keepin’ on and faking it til I make it.
    Maybe it’s that winter blues thing. Maybe by springtime I’ll be able to rise above. Maybe til then I can just pretend I’m content.
    See? I don’t even aspire to Happy. Content would do for now.

  6. I know this post was all about you, but my comment is all about me. Hope you don’t mind. 🙂 I think it was 10 years of infertility that kept my screwed up marriage together for 13 years. Being so consumed by the goal of having kids masked a hell of a lot of other things in my life.
    But I don’t miss it. Not a bit. I feel like blinders have been lifted, and even if what’s underneath is pretty f*ing painful, its better than always wondering why we could never just be happy.
    I’m sorry its not all rainbows and puppies for you. It can be a rude awakening. But hopefully, its something treatable and fixable. Thinking of you.

  7. Infertility hurts so deep that even once you “reach the other side” it still takes time to heal.

    But I would give almost anything to not be going through treatments again…

  8. It was a rough night when I realized I was depressed as hell, despite the fact that I had everything that I thought I wanted.

    Beating infertility is something to celebrate, but it doesn’t make you HAPPY. It takes a lot more work to find – and then maintain – happiness.


  9. It was good to have something to blame (and I did blame it for a lot) but I couldn’t go back there. Not ever. I do think though that its effects remain a long time after everything is supposed to be “perfect”.

  10. I get that. There was always this goal and this source of angst. Now? I got what I wanted – a finalized adoption AND a bonus miracle pregnancy. What do I have to bitch about? What do I obsess about? What’s my end game now? Heh. Guess men are right – there *is* no making us happy.

  11. To an extent, I totally understand where you are coming from. Yes, it’s something to blame, but I’ll tell you, I don’t miss it one bit. I read other infertile bloggers and it just sends me reeling back into my own hell. My heart aches for them. It gives me horrible flashbacks. It’s part of the reason why I dropped out of the infertility scene altogether (aside of the fact that hello? I have two kids now). That and I know it’s hard for people to see me on the other side. I’d like to think it would give people hope, but then I go and call my toddler an asshole, and I’m sure it all goes out the window.

  12. You can always blame the job situation, the husband is ALWAYS a source for irritation, the kids being naughty, your slacker friends (me) in the computer not commenting or emailing you back. 😉
    I just blame it on that if I don’t have something to complain about I am just not happy, but that is just me. My father told me that one when I was still in grade school and for once I think he may have been right, but don’t tell him I said so.

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