h1

Suffering infertility silently

May 5, 2009

Last night during my training, I lay in my double bed and chatted a little with my roomate. She talked about getting unexpectedly pregnant at 34 and then marrying her husband. She said I’m so grateful it happened though I was not expecting that my life would involve children. My son has transformed my life. Before I had him, I did not know how incomplete I was, how many holes there were in my life. By having my son I realized I am now complete. She called to wish her son good night and said to me, when you have kids you’ll see how hectic life gets and how your world revolves around them. In the morning she yawned and stretched saying Wow I slept in past 6am.  You not having kids don’t have to deal with that! She doesn’t know about my miscarriage and how fully aware I am of the holes in my life that being childless pokes in.  She has no clue how I crave 2 a.m. feedings.  I cannot begrudge her, but I am so blown away by how innocuous words and comments by one can have the potential of body slamming the soul of another.

Just now at lunch, the guy sitting next to me asked me if I had children. It hurt to tell him no because the answer should have been: November 3. How long hae you been married he asked. Seven years, I responded. Then he joked, I’m sure you’re having a lot of pressure from the in-laws to get pregnant.

I sit down to drink coffee and a co-worker brings his children. They are sweet and good. They talk in girlish voices of how fun school is and other childish things. Will I ever have children is all that rings through my head. Will I always be an outside observer.

Feeling sharp jabs to my heart I get up and leave to sit outside, get some fresh mountain air before I go inside and take another class and I hear a woman as she walks to the gift shop say out loud Gotta go to the gift shop and get my kids a gift- that’s what mom’s do. They always think of their children.

Now I’m sitting on the verandah of this lodge. My training begins in 12 minutes. There are people sitting a distance away, I’m biting my lips, I’m trying to still the tears dripping down my face. I’m trying to focus on a lot of good in my life, etc. but I just hate being infertile. I fucking hate it.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: