The Eternal Guest Room

I was going to post about something different, but I started thinking yesterday about something I don’t usually think about.

We’ve been fairly public about our infertility struggles for a few years, and a little over a year ago went very public about it – D posted a link to this blog on his facebook wall for all to see (I didn’t post the link on mine because I have clients on my list and it was before the days of selective sharing). We’ve been very, very fortunate in that people have either been understanding and supportive or haven’t said anything; we haven’t gotten the hurtful comments that some people get.

I was going to post about loss but yesterday I started thinking about strength.

Over the course of the past year or so, several people have made comments about me being strong. I generally don’t think of myself this way; the people who say I’m strong don’t see me at my worst, crying my eyes out or thinking I can’t get out of bed some days.

But when I really stop and think about it, they’re right. I have strength that I didn’t know could even exist in me. I’ve been through so much, and I’m still here. That’s got to count for something. Some people say that infertility makes them stronger, but I don’t feel that way. I feel like infertility has made me realize that I’m stronger than I think.

I get out of bed when I don’t think I can face another day. I have injections in my stomach while I’m in my house. I make phone calls to set up more doctor’s appointments immediately after finding out more devastating news. I somehow find the strength to keep enduring more treatments, even though I know they will probably fail. I visited my newborn niece at a time when my heart was completely broken. I’ve sent people baby gifts even though the thought of it made me feel like crawling into a hole. I have gone to family events that felt like the most unbearable things I could imagine. I manage to put a smile on my face even on the days when it feels like everything is crashing down around me.

I see unbelievable depths of strength in the ALI (Adoption/Loss/Infertility) community; these women are absolutely amazing. They endure pain that most people can’t even imagine, and they survive. Their strength constantly floors me. The blogs I read and the stories I hear are often heartbreaking – loss after loss, year after year, crushing disappointment after disappointment – and I wonder how people keep going. But they do, because they possess this unbelievable strength. Even though it doesn’t feel like it sometimes (or most times), it’s there.

Those of us enduring infertility often have a hard time feeling especially thankful during the holidays. Today is a day where people all around the country are sitting around tables with their families thinking about how thankful they are to have them, and some of us want nothing more than a family of 3 to be thankful for. And of course I’m thankful for my  husband, and my cats, and my house, and our families and friends and all of that.

But today I have another thing to be thankful for: these people who are walking down a similar road, facing things close to what I’m facing, and who are able to reach out past their own pain to offer support to others. Someone once told me that pregnancy and babies are not merit-based, and it’s so true – these women deserve babies more than anyone. When they do get their babies I rejoice for them.

I am thankful for their support, and I am thankful for their strength, and I am thankful for mine.

Halloween has always been a big deal to me, and a special day for us. We had our first date on Halloween and got engaged 2 Halloweens later. It’s an anniversary.

I had a hard time giving up the “kid things” about Halloween. I went trick-or-treating every year until I went to college. I always made sure to carve a pumpkin and make caramel apples. Those things reminded me of my childhood, and being a kid, and the magic that went along with the holidays. And I fully, completely, 100%  intended to do all of these things with my own children someday.

Along with all the other holidays, Halloween lost something for me as the years went on. Doing the “kid stuff” was just a reminder of what I didn’t have. Last year especially, I was a wreck during Halloween weekend.

But this year I tried to move on. I got dressed up and went to a party. I bought caramel (but ran out of time to put in on the apples, so close). We even passed out some candy to trick-or-treaters, which I haven’t been able to do in past years. It was emotional, but I did it. We watched The Shining. Then we watched It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. And there was a line that really made me think.

As we all know, the Great Pumpkin that Linus tells Sally will be there doesn’t show up, and Sally is upset. She says:

“I was robbed! I spent the whole night waiting for the Great Pumpkin when I could have been out for tricks or treats! Halloween is over and I missed it!…What a fool I was.”

And I thought: “Yes. Exactly. That’s exactly how I feel.” I feel like I’ve spent the last several years and holidays waiting. Waiting for this amazing thing that people insisted I would have and that I truly believed I would have. And while I was waiting, life went on without me, and I missed it. I could have been out having fun and enjoying life and instead I was just sitting around waiting and feeling so depressed that I didn’t enjoy a thing.

I feel like I was robbed.

And that leads to the question – well, was I robbed, or did I rob myself? But then I think, “does it really matter?” I mean, what’s the difference?

That’s one of the most horrible things about infertility; it really robs you of so much. It robs you not only of your own children but also of joy, peace, naivety, innocence, happiness for people you care about who are able to get pregnant, the ability to enjoy what you have and the life you’ve been given. It takes away so much.

I worry that I will always regret these last 3 years. I feel like I’ve missed out on everything and haven’t accomplished anything. And I feel like I haven’t cared. The whole thing makes me feel bad, and kind of guilty.

I do feel like I was robbed. It isn’t fair what some of us have to go through. I could blame myself, but one thing I’ve learned though this is that you can’t and shouldn’t judge people, because no one knows how they will react to any situation. It is what it is.

I go in tomorrow morning for my baseline sonogram for our last IUI. The finality is weird. If this one doesn’t work, we either give up or move forward. I wish I hadn’t lost what I’ve lost, but the truth is that I already have. My hope is that as life moves forward, I’m able to move forward with it, or at least be an active participant in it. These days, my hopes are in the simple things.