The Eternal Guest Room

Hello and welcome to everyone visiting from ICLW! This is my third time to sign up and every time I get better at leaving all my comments. I have high hopes for this one.

It’s hard at this point to sit and write about our “history” because it almost doesn’t seem to matter any more, but just to give you some background: Trying for over 3 1/2 years. Varicocele repair to fix low motility and 0% morphology (it’s gotten much better). Hysteroscopy to remove huge polyp. 3 canceled IUIs. 3 completed IUIs, all BFNs. (And can I just say here that I HATE that wordpress/whoever doesn’t recognize varicocele, hysteroscopy, or IUI as real words.) In all these years, the only hint of a second pink line I’ve ever seen was the months I tested out the trigger. Our official diagnosis now is mild male factor.

After 3 1/2 years it gets harder in some ways and easier in others. I don’t have that sense of devastation every month, because I don’t have that sense of hope. I can go on Evil Facebook these days without having an emotional breakdown (though that might be because everyone who is pregnant or has babies is hidden). I can go on with my daily life and, well, live. In the course of a normal day, I mostly do OK. I have breakdowns and hours of uncontrollable sobbing, but it’s not on a super regular basis.

I made a huge mistake last night though. I was invited to a gathering of people I didn’t know, and I went. One of the hostesses is a friend who I see on a limited basis and who I had somewhat bonded with over infertility issues (though hers were MUCH different than mine, and she has kids). I got there only to find out that every single other person there was a mom. One had just given birth weeks earlier.

And that was All. They. Talked. About.

Breastfeeding and parenting and craziness and lack of sleep and how your body sucks after pregnancy. And I wanted to hit them, or at least scream. The one with the newborn made some comment about something (can’t remember exactly what, since she made comments all night) and I almost, almost snapped at her and said something along the lines of “well at least you have kids – do you know how many people would kill to be in your shoes, to face the minor inconveniences to your current lifestyle, just to have what you have?” But I bit my tongue.

I felt empty and I felt broken and I felt barren, and I felt completely out of place. I had nothing to add to the conversation. I had no idea what their lives were like. I wanted to leave but I couldn’t find a way out for awhile. It made my heart hurt. I left in tears and came home sobbing. I regretted going 100%. I’m trying to regain my social life, but after nights like that I wasn’t sure if that was the best idea.

Mostly I’m ok. But some days, not so much. And some moments – or events – I can barely keep it together.

But I think that’s how these things go.