The Eternal Guest Room

Most days are ok. Life goes on, and I am a functioning participant. I live with the reality that maybe we will have kids, and maybe we won’t. It’s hard, but I manage.

But some days, it’s really hard. Sometimes for no reason, but there’s usually a reason, or a trigger.

In general I avoid talking about any of my family situations on this blog. Because family members and friends who know them read it. Because it’s weird to talk about certain things without that anonymity that a blog not read by family members has. Because I don’t want to risk making anyone feel bad, or uncomfortable, by talking about them. But sometimes I feel like I have to, because not doing so would leave major gaps in my story, and for other people to really understand what I’m going through and to really give myself a chance to express my thoughts and feelings, sometimes I have to share these things.

I have three younger sisters. All of them are married. All of them plan to have children. As the oldest, I expected to have the first. When that was taken from me, I was devastated. It’s no one’s fault, but quite honestly, it sucked for me. The news was a total shock, and I did not handle it well. I’ll leave it at that.

At that point I fully expected to have the second grandchild. I had no idea of the challenges and heartbreak that were ahead of us. No idea.

I love my niece. She is perfect and precious and more adorable than words can describe. I’ll never forget the first time I held her; I was floored by the amount of love that I felt. But I hate that I am an aunt before I was a mother.

Today my second niece will be born. I am sure I will love her just as much, but right now it just hurts so badly. That I am going through this a second time. That it is still not my turn. That, once again, I get someone else’s good news just after I get my own bad news. That my family is so excited and so full of joy, and all I feel is grief.

I grieve for my own children, that I thought I would have by now, but that I now know I may never have. I grieve the loss of not being the one to have the first grandchild or even the second, because being the oldest sucks and you should at least get that, and at this point I’ll probably be lucky just to have the fourth. I grieve that I cannot share in this joy, because my own pain is too great. I grieve the distance that this has put between my family members and myself, because it hurts too much to be with them sometimes when they can’t understand what I am going through. I grieve for all of the things that infertility has taken from me.

This is one of those days when it’s really hard.