I haven’t updated on our “progress” lately because we are currently in survival mode. At the start of 2015 I believed that we’d be in the middle of our IVF cycle by now, but we finally received our projected dates only to discover that we have an even longer wait than we believed. I tried to fight back the bitter disappointment, but it has grown so great that I feel as though I will be consumed by it. We have reached a critical time in preparing for treatment, but I’m finding it difficult to remain strong for the future when today feels like my breaking point and tomorrow is always the worst day so far.
I often wonder how anyone has ever made it through this process before us. We’ve found ourselves under increasing amounts of unbearable pressure that likely would have broken me if I hadn’t already been broken a long time ago. And then two weeks ago, when I thought that our situation couldn’t possibly get more stressful, we woke up one morning to find that Kyle’s grandpa was in the hospital struggling with serious health problems. Since that moment we have been trying to find a way to get to Florida so that we can be with our family at this time. It’s horrible to be so far away and feel so helpless.
Each day feels like a new battle. It’s brutal, it’s exhausting, and there is no time to recover. There seems to be this misconception by some that we are in the midst of a fun adventure, but that couldn’t feel further from the truth. In reality it feels more like we are drowning, and to be told that we should be enjoying this time makes it all the more painful. We are still undergoing invasive medical procedures. We have wagered everything we have and then some on the chance of success. If this fails we have nothing to fall back on. There is no safety net here, just a lot of time, expense, and energy that we will not get back if we have placed the wrong bet. A few months from now we will know the answer, but until then we are going out of our minds from the torture of not knowing and the possibility of facing even greater loss.
It’s days like this that I feel like I would cut this innate desire for children out of my soul if I could. Certainly, without it, my life would be easier. I wouldn’t have lost these many years to the waiting or the physical and emotional pain I’ve endured in trying to save my fertility from the time I was 12 years old. Who would I be and what could I have accomplished if I hadn’t been bound by this overwhelming need? I guess I’ll never know because I have never had the luxury of being able to take this part of life for granted or the ability to let this one thing go.
When I started this blog I promised myself that I would not sanitize this experience, if only for the sake of the others who suffer through it silently. Still, I find that there is so much more that I want to say but can’t, for whatever reason. You wouldn’t have been able to tell, but I am trembling as I write these words. This part of my life, this part of my self– it is ugly and it is dark. Clearly, I have reached a very low point in this journey. My patience has worn thin and my strength is gone. I hate to appear weak more than anything, but right now there is almost nothing I wouldn’t give to make the pain stop. If that makes me weak, then so be it.