It’s Ok To Not Be Ok
I’m tired. I’m tired of being sad. I’m tired of waiting to be happy (I’m actually wondering if I’ve lost the formula for how to be happy). I’m tired of scrolling facebook and seeing pregnancy announcements or baby bump photos(I used to get angry, now I just feel like of course someone else is getting what I want). I’m tired of negative feelings and emotions. I’m tired of looking at my body and being utterly disappointed (not only does it not make babies, but I got a bad rash from something a week ago and it has now scared and all over my body I have this super ugly rash scar, and on top of that I’m unhappy with some extra lbs I can’t seem to shed). I’m tired of seeing other people who have what I want and not being able to do anything about it. I’m tired of being cautious about who I talk to about this stuff. I’m tired of being tired. I want to rewind. Go back to when I didn’t know this would be how my late 20’s and early 30’s would play out. I want the innocence of ignorance.
I’ve lost the will to fight. I’ve lost the motivation to try. I’ve lost so much of myself in this journey. This is a terrible path. People who have experienced infertility say that it’s lonely and isolating and I used to not understand why. I do now. I don’t want to be seen as weak, so you don’t see me cry. I don’t want to be treated differently, so I laugh off the pain in front of you. I don’t want to be given any more advice, so I don’t talk about infertility. When the biggest thing in your life is either a taboo subject or something your afraid to talk about, how do you connect with people? How do you engage in a meaningful way? I haven’t figured that out yet. Instead, I’m finding myself becoming quiet and withdrawn in social settings. I don’t know what to say (which must sound shocking to some people) or do. I feel like it’s all bursting out of me and yet…once it’s out, there’s no going back. You can’t put pandora back in the box. You can’t unsay something.
At Easter this past Sunday, we had our extended family over for lunch. I was the gray raincloud of the event. There were people there who had lots to celebrate, a new marriage, a baby and a new pregnancy. And then there was Drew and I. What do we have to talk about? How sad we are that we can’t have a family. That most days it’s a chore to put pants on and go to work. That I feel hopeless and isolated. How do you bring that up in a room where everyone is happy? You don’t. You just slap a smile on and pretend to be happy while others are lost in their lives and stories. We don’t have a baby to add to the mix to bring delight. We don’t have any hope for one. No one cares to hear about our dog stories. We have become the old married couple. That was a bit of a depressing realization, but it’s true. I don’t feel special anymore.
For those who read this and worry about me, I get to feel sad sometimes. I get to let it out sometimes. I need a place to process how I’m truly feeling otherwise it bottles up and becomes actually unhealthy. It’s ok to say you’re not ok. And today, I’m not ok. I’m mad. I’m sad and I have no control. I want to change lives. I want someone elses desires. I want to be the person who doesn’t care about having babies. Does anyone want to switch lives with me?
