Energy crisis

The last few days I have been realizing just how much energy goes into “keeping it together”.  I have been sick since my last post- cramps and the flu all in one day, how lucky can I be?  And with having the flu, I have had absolutely ZERO energy.  Meaning that the teensy-tiny bit of energy I have had (okay, I guess that’s a little more than zero) has been used for things like getting out of bed, getting another glass of orange juice, moving my laptop from the bedroom to the couch, and pushing buttons on the remote control.  No leftover energy for keeping sadness and bitterness in check.

I had two major meltdowns over the weekend.  Two.  Major meltdowns.  Sobbing uncontrollably for an extended period of time, collapsed on the floor, absolutely no rational thoughts whatsoever.  I’m sure anyone going through infertility knows the type.  Both of the meltdowns started from arguments with my husband but quickly deteriorated into “I’m never going to have kids”  “I must be a terrible person who doesn’t deserve to have kids”  “My husband would be better off with someone who actually has eggs” . . .

All of the irrational thoughts that I normally try to ignore (with at least moderate success).  Apparently more energy goes into that than I realized.  And apparently having the flu is no better for my mental health than it is for my physical health.

I’m starting to feel better, so hopefully I can divert some of the regained energy back into controlling the infertility madness.  If not, it’s going to be a very long week at work.

Sigh.

One of those “mad at the world” kind of days

I have been whining to people all day, so I figured I might as well whine a little bit here too.

I have had the worst cramps all day.  I think I’m just weird, but when I get really bad cramps I get chills- like fever chills.  Those are the kind of cramps I have had.  All day.  I’ve lost track of how much ibuprofen I’ve taken, but it’s not helping much.  I would have gone home early from work, but I had something this afternoon that I couldn’t miss.

I hate this.  What’s the point of going through this every 24 days if I’m not going to get pregnant anyway?  All I’m doing is wasting eggs- not good when I’m not sure how many I’ve got left in the first place (stupid high FSH).  I hate being completely exhausted, I hate having cramps that won’t go away, and I hate the reminder that yet another month has gone by and I’m *still* not pregnant.  I hate the fact that I have to go buy more tampons and advertise to the world that I’m *still* not pregnant.  (Yes, I know the people at Walmart couldn’t care less, but when I’m feeling angry and bitter I tend to think these things.)

A couple days ago at work I was talking with two friends.  Friend A is married and has one kid; friend B just started dating someone (the topic of conversation).  B knows about all of the infertility stuff and has been really supportive; A doesn’t know anything about it.  We were talking about the potential future B and boyfriend might have together, and A said to B, “Who knows, maybe you’ll be the next pregnant person walking around here.”  I really wanted to tell B, “You better not be”, but I figured that would probably be one of those inappropriate “bitter infertile” comments, so I held my tongue.  But seriously, isn’t it my turn yet?

So yeah, one of those bitter, self-pitying, mad at the world, kind of days.

Tomorrow has to be better, right?

Another extended absence

I’m not doing very good at this whole blogging thing.  I feel like all I’ve been thinking about lately is work, but maybe I needed the break?  My depression has been better,I’m back on all my meds so I’ve been at my normal level of mild depression.

I think I’ve been doing a lot of processing the last few months.  After our miserable attempt an an IUI cycle, I hit that point of hopelessness, helplessness, and desperation.  Trying to decide if we should just “give up” and move on to adoption, or if we keep trying (which means more waiting, and I’m so tired of waiting).  I was feeling like I *should* give up, but couldn’t get myself there.  I think I’ve decided that I need to go through one IVF cycle before I can move on- I can’t give up when I haven’t really even had a chance.  I really don’t even expect IVF to work for us, and I still don’t know when it’s going to happen, but it’s something I need to do.  Is that terrible?  That I want to spend $15,000 on something I don’t expect to work, just for my own peace of mind?

I recently hit the 2 1/2 year mark of trying to get pregnant, and completed my 36th cycle.  I’m so tired of all of this.  The sadness, anger, and bitterness, being hopeful and hopeless at the same time, the constant reminders of what I don’t have, the uncertainty, and the intensity of all the feelings.  But there’s no way I could go back to not wanting this.  I’ve realized that I can actually relate to (sensitive) fertile women more than I can to my friends who don’t want kids right now, for whatever reason.  There’s something about that longing for a baby, once you get there, I don’t know if you can really go back.  My friends who aren’t in that place don’t really understand why this is so consuming.

In some ways I’m feeling more alone right now than I have at any other time in this journey.  I’m not actively doing treatment. I’m in such a different place from all of the “newly infertile” ladies- they still have hope that treatment will work.  It seems like most of my non-infertile friends are tired of hearing me complain about the same thing over and over again, and even if they ask about it, I don’t know what to say- it seems like I’m just stuck in the same place.

I’m getting to the point where I wonder if I need to not let other people’s pregnant bellies and babies bother me so much.  I know that would make my life easier, but it also feels like if I did that, it would be a sign of surrender.  Kind of like one more step toward giving in, giving up.  I know the two things aren’t really connected, but at least when I have to deal with the sadness and bitterness I know that I’m still fighting.  And that I still have at least a little hope.