I spent the past week in a state of… I don’t even know how to describe it. I’m devastated, yes. I’m also angry. So incredibly angry.
I also just feel…defeated. I feel empty. Like I was walking down a dark alley carrying everything dear to my heart, and suddenly getting jumped from behind and getting the shit kicked out of me by an unknown enemy, having it all taken from me.
I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to blog, I didn’t want to read blogs. I didn’t want to eat healthy or go to the gym. I cried a lot. A lot. I would cry until there was nothing left, and then I would cry again.
I haven’t replied to your comments, both on here and on Facebook. I read them though. Chris reads them. We talk about them. And we appreciate them more than you know. If I replied back with the customary, “Thanks so much! I really appreciate it,” it diminishes the true feelings I really have. I started this blog to educate fertiles and to reach out to infertiles. But I also do it for selfish reasons. I need the support. And to those who have given it, please continue. I need it badly. So even though I am not saying anything back, I truly do appreciate it.
And thanks for sticking in there, for reading the good, as well as the ugly. I know my personal Dear Diary in a public light is bound to offend some people. It’s bound to make some uncomfortable. This post is probably one of them.
I’m just so bitter.
Any little thing would set me off this week. I saw a post on Fertilebook of someone complaining about how they can’t be induced for two more days and how crabby they were. I wanted to scream, “You bitch. Do you have any idea how lucky you are???” I know, it’s mean. I’m mean. But I would do anything for mind-numbing heartburn. For a giant belly that keeps me awake at night. For 24-hour-a-day nausea. I would do anything.
My stomach clenches up in knots every time a new mom reminds me how much work a baby is. The whole, “I know you really want a baby, but they are a lot of work, you know. I’m exhausted. Mine was up all night.”
I don’t care. Because I’m exhausted too. And I would gladly, gladly, switched places with you. I can be the sleep-deprived new mommy with her child crying in her arms and you can be the pathetic infertile whose arms are empty.
I’m not being very nice. I know.
But the truth is, I am so tired of people not understanding. Of people who read my damn blog and then still tell me to, “Relax and give it to God,” or tell me, “my time will come.” Of people who ask me if I’m ok.
I’ll let you in on a secret. No. I’m not ok. I had my third fucking IUI that didn’t work. I’m not ok. Everyone asks me, “Are you ok?” If I don’t trust you, I will smile and reassure you, to put your own self at ease, that yes, I am hanging in there. If I trust you, if you are one of the few in real life, I will burst into tears. Because I’m not ok.
I know the world can’t stop because some of you get pregnant and I don’t. I get it. But people that used to be so supportive, now have their own babies and have stopped talking to us. Maybe they think it’s easier for us. Maybe they don’t know what to say. Infertility is one of the loneliest things someone can go through. Because no matter how much you try and explain, no matter how much someone reads your blog or tells you they know how you feel, you still wind up feeling alone. Every negative test; every needle poke in your arm, or stomach; every ultrasound is a reminder of the line that divides you against other women. The women who are so fucking fertile that they can make April Fool’s jokes about a fake pregnancy. The women who tell you they support you, and then in the same breath, tell you about how being a mother is life’s greatest gift.
I knew this last IUI probably wouldn’t work. I knew that we would be moving on to something else. I didn’t think it would hurt this bad. Maybe it’s the added hormones detoxing from my body. Maybe my heart is just broken.
So please don’t tell me, “I just want you to be ok.”
Please don’t tell me, “There’s always next time.”
Please don’t tell me, “You’re probably just stressed out. You’ll be done with school soon. Maybe your body just needs to be less stressed.”
And now I just feel bitter. I know people are just sick of my constant failure. I understand people are just trying to be nice, but will inevitably say something like, “There is a reason for all of this.” Because why not? You kick the alcoholic when they’re down. Why not me too?
So go ahead. Kick me when I’m down. Right in the uterus. There’s nothing in there you can hurt anyway.
Risa, I cried reading this. I know no words will take your pain away so I wont even try. I am just going to agree. Infertility fucking sucks, every failed attempt hurts just as bad, if not worse, than the first. I understand how you are feeling. I can empathize. I am here, always, good, bad, ugly, nice, mean (which you sooo are not!) I am here.
P.S. I like the new layout.
Risa: I am so sorry! I know when you posted that on facebook, I was equally appalled. I know many of the feelings you are feeling. I was completely bitter and sad. My mom recently admitted that she had to stop reading my blog because it was so sad. I think people say things without thinking and try to comfort, but words can't comfort. I want you to know I'm thinking of you! I am with you, I don't know where I would be if I didn't have the support of my blogging community! I wish there was something to make you feel better, but I know from being there there isn't anything I can say. I'll be thinking of you and keeping you in my thoughts and prayers.
Yup, that's about how it goes. Thanks for having the courage to put it all out there.
You have a right to be a bitch. Most of us do. It is hard to hold back our frustrations. People never know exactly what to say and sometimes just say the wrong things. People also used to tell me that it is was the stress of being in school, but I graduated almost a year ago. It still isn't happening. They just don't understand. Not like us fellow infertile's understand. I think of you and pray every day that you will have your dreams answered. Our time will come. Unfortunately we will all be broke by then, but we WILL have babies. 😉 Try to stay positive, girly! I know it is hard sometimes. :/
Right there with ya. Thanks for saying what most of us are thinking on a regular basis.
Well, I'm almost afraid to say anything. Haha! No really, I am very sorry you are going through all this. It plain and simple, SUCKS! This is the best place to vent, as you know we will support you and understand every word you say.
Two failed IVF cycles, a failed FET followed by an FET that resulted in a chemical prgnancy, then the loss of our last two embryos in shipping, followed by major surgery that was then followed by two back to back chemical pregnancies…I know just how you feel. You are not alone. I am here in the trenches with you.(((HUGS)))
Oh, please tell me that your Facebook friends haven't posted that as their April Fool's Day status. If so, let me know, and I'll gladly kick them in the taco for you.
This sucks so much. IF is bad enough on its own, but the lack of understanding makes it worse. I sometimes think that our society needs formal training in dealing with grief (of any kind). People need to be taught that sometimes the best thing you can do is to say nothing and to just be present with someone in their pain. It's a hard thing to do, but it's a great gift to have.
Holding you in my thoughts. *hugs*
Such a heartbreaking post. I hate that you are going through this. I hate that so many of us can understand completely how you are feeling. I think people constantly asking me if I am ok or how I was feeling is why I stopped talking about it to even the few people who knew about it. I didn't even tell my mom when we did our last IVF cycle! No one ever knew what to say and I got tired of reassuring them all the time. This is your place to say anything you want. Who cares if people think you are being a bitch? Vent away!
You've taken so many words right out of my mouth, my mind and my heart. I know just how badly you hurt and I wish I could say that it gets better. We're all here for you, though – to cheer you on when you need it and to have a pity party with you, too, when you need that. Thinking of you! xo
This brought tears to my eyes (in the waiting room waiting for more IF-related blood tests to be done). I'm so, so, sorry this last IUI didn't work for you. That you have to keep trying. It's all so unfair. This is one of the most honest posts I've read lately & it's so accurate to how this sh*t journey makes people feel. Thinking of you.
People can be so insensitive. I truly believe IF is a disease. If more people saw it that way, people would be more careful with their words. No one would ever tell a person battling cancer "It's part of God's plan", yet they are so quick to say that to a couple battling IF. NO ONE would ever tell a person with M.S. "Go on vacation, you just need to relax, then you'll get rid of your M.S….that's what we did". I am in NO WAY trying to compare IF to cancer or MS, I'm just trying to make a point that in the same way, no one should give ill-formed advice even if they too are going through or have gone through fertility treatments to achieve pregnancy.
Those of us who go down the IUI/IVF/EA/FET route spend THOUSANDS, literally THOUSANDS of DOLLARS to over come our infertility. In our case, not one cent has been covered by insurance! If I really thought the advice of some ignoramous was better than the advice I am getting from our RE, I wouldn't be wasting my money.
Now I realize not all people have ill intentions…they just don't THINK! FOr some reason they think they are able to have an opinion on our uterus' and baby-making situation, but they don't. Others try to figure out what to say, but sometimes I hug, an "I'm sorry you are going through this" or "I'm here for you" is what we need the most.
So, Risa, please know that I am sorry you are going through this. I wish I knew a way to fix it…for myself, for you, for others. You are in my thoughts. xoxo
I hate this for you. I hate that you have to go through it. I'm angry about it. For you and all of the other people out there who haven't gotten their babies yet. For those of us who fear our dreams will never come true. Thank you for raising awareness and doing it in a way that's bold and real and unapologetic.
There's not really much to say except that you have a right to each and every feeling, no matter how "uncomfortable" it makes other people. Anyone who tries to justify all this suffering by saying motherhood is a hassle is just an asshole. Sorry if that's harsh, but it's true. Sweetie, I don't even know you but I can say I've thought and felt each and every thing in this post and I don't feel guilty about it AT ALL. You just have to let yourself be sad right now… and that's OK. Tears have always been therapeutic for me. Know that we are all thinking about you and sending you internet hugs.
I truly appreciate your honesty with this post, and yes we've all felt one aspect of it at one time or another. It's hard, as I've discovered you do have to change your interactions with fertiles. In her sleep deprived postpartum blues phase, my fertile BFF asked "are you sure you want to do this?" -as if I were somehow lucky to be infertile. Now I don't discuss anything related to IF unless she asks and I lie when she does, she thinks we're still trying "the natural way" as she calls it. Another kick while you're down. Make sure you and Chris take care of each other and move forward when you're ready. Love to you!
Ugh, infertility sucks. And insensitive people suck. I think that's why I've kept my IF story hidden from anyone in real life. But yet I wish I had your strength to just say it like it is and not feel like I have to hide it. I guess there is no win win. Ha, never is with IF. We're lucky if we have one side of it winning.
I'm sorry. You deserve better. We all do. I wish we could all find a way to get what we want. Bitterness is inevitable. Hang in there, and know that this wonderful online IF community is there cheering you on.
I found your blog through Aubry's blog and just wanted to say hello, because your post echoed so many thoughts in my head. Wishing for better days ahead for you and I look forward to following along.
I wish i could hug you. I love your honesty. My heart truly hurts for you and others going through this pain.
I do not find your post bitchy or mean. i find it honest. Gut-wrenchingly honest! I had tears streaming down my face as I read this because of how accurately you described my feelings after every BFN (too many to count) and both miscarriages! You have a right to feel this way. You are grieving, and you have a right to be bitter and mad! I am so sorry you are having to go through this. Praying for you guys! Remember, I'm just a message away if you need to vent to someone who understands and won't tell you to "just relax" or any of the other stupid crap people tell us "trying" to help!
It's a bitch. Boo.
Oh Risa…I don't know what to say. I feel like this every other day at least. It hurts. No words will make it hurt less, so I won't try. Just know I am one more supporter out here, and I hope that we will all get to hold our own babies soon.
There is NO reason for this. I am sorry you keep getting ignorant and hurtful comments. And I am sorry that you have to deal with the rest of the world and their [petty] complaints – damn Facebook anyway. Take care of yourself and feel what you are feeling and don't let anyone tell you that you shouldn't.
*big hugs* It never gets easier each time you get a bfn. And having people not understand you, that doesn't help either. The not understanding you doesn't ever really end either…
Thinking of you!
For different reasons, last summer I felt many of the very same feelings you described here – I hated anybody pregnant (including my own sister) or anybody that dared to complain about their pregnancy because I wanted that so badly. There is nothing anybody can say that will make you feel any better, but you are in many people's thoughts and prayers. I'm so sorry you and your husband have to fight this viscous and unfair battle.
I love you sweetie. I'm here for you.
Dear Risa,
I was you, about 4 years ago. If I could go back to the me then (and to the you now), this is what I would do:
– give you a BIG ASS HUG.
– confirm that you are not in fact alone. Not by a long shot.
– tell you that you WILL have a family. By hook or by crook, it will happen. How it will happen, when and what it will look like, I can't predict. But, I know that if you want a family, you will have it. It will be willed into existence and it will be so. worth. the. wait.
As with most things in life that we really want, it will happen later than you'd like, but sooner than you'd think.
Just want to say I'm thinking of you.
Eff you, infertility! An even bigger "eff you" to every jerk (and there were A TON of them) that posted that COMPLETELY UNfunny April Fool. Grrrrrrr.
It's okay to not be okay and I'm sorry people make you feel like it's not. I hate the April Fool's "joke", too and I'm so sorry you had friends who thought it was funny. HUGS!
This is exactly how I feel today! This. This. This.