Friday, May 09, 2008

That Nasty Hope Thing

So, I'm sure that if there's anyone out there still reading this drivel, you perhaps might be wondering whether or not I'm still here.

Well, I am. I have thirty-gazillion posts running through my head, but have yet to actually put anything down. Why? Well, partly because I'm a right lazy bitch, partly because I really have had no time to blog due to spring concert/end of the year junk, and well, if I'm to be completely honest.....it's really the "same shit, different day" kind of post. I mean, how many times does anyone want to read "I'm here, I'm still infertile, I'm an emotional mess, blah blah blee....." I suppose it gets kind of old. However, that's my life right now, so really, there's no reason to sugar-coat it, I suppose.

I miss the person I used to be. I'm slowly getting my snarkiness back, but the bitterness even amazes me sometimes. And, it comes on at totally random times, which doesn't make me the belle of the ball lately. I don't want to be the Bitter Barren Bitch that I am. I want to be able to enjoy my life, whichever fertility road we end up taking. So....why can't I?

My head is a jumble of things-should we cycle again, or not? Will it work, or is it a waste of time? If we decide that the ART route is finished, then what happens next? Are we ready to throw in the towel completely or should we try other options? These things fill waking hours of my day, and at inopportune times-like in the middle of a rehearsal, teaching a class, or just at home watching TV. I want to turn these thoughts off, but I'm finding I can't. And that frustrates the hell out of me, because I don't want to be defined by my infertility. I want to be me, but I'm not sure who "me" is anymore. I got married at 27 (almost 28), at a time in my life where I just starting to figure myself out and becoming more comfortable in my own skin, and then, a year later, we were thrown into the infertility merry-go-round, so now I'm not sure if that person I was 6 or so years ago was really me or not. All I know is that the person I am now is never how I envisioned myself. And, I also know that I don't like it.

How do I change it? I have no idea. Perhaps a part of it is coming to terms with things as it relates to my fertility, or, lack of it. Does that mean that I give up hope? Or, perhaps "hope" (that nasty bitch) is clouding my judgement and keeping me from being realistic. Then again, being realistic isn't all it's cracked up to be-you run the risk of over-thinking the situation. So, the question remains-how do you know when you're done?

Well, there's a question for you (if you're still out there)-how do you know when your "hope" for a situation, whether it be infertility, or anything important, becomes more idealistic than realistic? What defines the "breaking point" for you to change your outlook?


13 comments:

Anonymous said...

I have been reading your blog for years now and have also experienced infertility for years. You have given voice to my frustrations and much comfort. My last cycle was with a donor egg from a relative and ended in a miscarriage. I believe that with hope all things are possible and I wish you the best as you continue your journey.

Heather said...

I have no answer...just that I hope you find your answers. The not knowing is always the worst and I know that I always feel better when I have a plan in place, whatever it may be.

Thinking of you...

Tina said...

Not with infertility, but with my family I got to a point where, like you said, it was more idealistic and realistic to expect a healthy relationship.

I admit to having the tiniest sliver of hope with them, but I *know* that it's over. The relationship is irreparable.

For me, I had to do a LOT of thinking about what was healthy for me because I was obsessing over what I could do to fix things with them.

Also, as you said, it changes who you are, your outlook on life, etc. I wish I knew how to turn it off and move on completely. I'm not quite barren, but definitely bitter.

((hugs))

Shelli said...

it became a financial thing for us. we are STILL paying off the "sperm debt."

We decided that ultimately? We wanted to be moms. That biology wasn't THE most important thing, and besides, there's some FUCKED UP genetics on my side of the family tree. So we started the adoption route.

A year later, boo-boo-baby-bite-face entered our lives, and from the MILIsecond we met her, we KNEW that she was our daughter. it was 'besheret," "meant to be." She was born 42 weeks after our homestudy received the stamp of approval.

I still mourn and miss the opportunity of pregnancy that never presented itself to me. But that pain has a HUGE ASS Malka sized band aid on it. And it's worth it. there is NO doubt that we are family.

And ultimately? THAT is what is most important.

Love you

and we still have to plan our shoe fest. June? A Sunday afternoon?

Ms. J said...

I am most definitely still out here, and am THRILLED you are feeling like writing again. I have missed your snarkiness VERY much ;o)

As for "breaking points" . . . gosh, there were so many for me. I still have these flashback moments when I am right back there, in the midst of that pain and grief, and it takes my breath away.

Some that stick out for me . . . after M/C # 3 (actually, while I was in the middle of m/c-ing), I just knew that I could never go through this ever again. I was scared to death as it was that I, um, wouldn't make it back, if you catch my drift. I would never take my own life, because it's a rather selfish thing to do since it hurts everyone around you so deeply. But I was so very, very, low -- scary-low, if you will. I just didn't care about anyone or anything.

If we hadn't been in the middle of preparing for our home study to adopt (this pregnancy was a surprise, since we had just been told my husband's sperm quality made it near impossible to conceive on our own), I am not sure how I would have made it. Preparing our house for the home study, and then the massive paperchase to get our dossier (documents for international adoption) together, I think kept both hubby and I on autopilot enough that we somehow stumbled through the worst year of our lives.

When a possible adoption opportunity fell through for us in February 2008, it plunged us into IVF World briefly. We stopped that process when we received, and accepted, a referral for our pending daughter from China in mid-March of this year.

But in the middle of some adoption jitters (mine), I told my husband that IF, somehow, this adoption falls through, I am going out and getting knocked up by some hot guy, lol (okay, kidding, I think --can't be certain).

I know that I don't run away from things, I run towards them. And when someone or something takes away my dream, I will run towards the next dream.

I hope that doesn't sound too F'ed up to anybody out there?! I am actually a reasonably functioning person with a responsible job. I, just like lots of us on these blogs, have had to go through a lot.

DAVs said...

I'm glad you're back. I wish I had answers for you..but we're in the middle of trying to answer the same questions. The problem with IF (well, ONE of them) is that you reach a point of such angst, agony, and possibly desperation that it can become difficult to trust your own thoughts or ability to be rational. I was just seriously considering working 60+ hours a week to try to secure insurance for more IVF tries. But in the end, we decided I'd go insane and so it would be moot. At any rate, I wish you the very, very best and I'll be here reading whatever you decide to share.

alicia said...

I am glad you posted again! I know you don't want to hear this, but I think its different for everyone, when to decide enough it enough. For me, I have made a timeline. I am going to do 3 IUI's, then 1 IVF if they don't work, then we will try surrogacy. In the meantime I am almost done the road to adoption and am hoping to be placed with an older child sometime this summer, or early in the fall! Everyone has the right path for them, I hope you find yours soon.

Erin said...

I have done 4 fresh cycles with no success, and yet I am holding out hope for my upcoming FET. I think we are all in need of some serious therapy.

IVF said...

as others have said, it's different for everyone.
For us, IF destroyed everything good in our lives and gave us nothing in return and yet we kept coming back for more. It was only when it was going to risk my life that I realized that I have to make a decision.
We can continue going down that same path but ultimately we're going to be broken (financially and emotionally) - it was time for us to protect what we have.

I hope you get what you want.

Silver said...

Yup - it's different for everyone. I'm told by a couple of people who've come out the other side childless and resigned that you "just know" when enough is enough. There was a stage when I thought that would never happen for me, but now, after more than five years and six losses, I feel like I'm at the beginning of the end. I can at least *imagine* a time when not having a child will seem less scary than the prospect of another failure or loss. Who knows!

Ms. J said...

Ya still there? I still check your blog every couple of days, wondering how you are.

Anonymous said...

I just discovered your blog, and reading your journey was both heartbreaking and also helpful. I'm at the beginning of this (been trying 18 months) and maybe also at the end (there's Hope, that nasty bitch, as you say). It's helpful because you articulate so well what I am feeling and going through.

I just want to say... don't feel guilty about your feelings or decisions, regardless of what you decide. If you think you're done, take your time to come to terms with that and don't feel guilty. If you want to continue, take your time to process that and don't feel guilty. Only you know what is right for you... try on different ideas for size and see what feels right. Also.. no decision needs to be permanent. You can take a break for a few months and see how you feel. Good luck. Random Internet People are rooting for you.

Melzie said...

Just hoping everything is okay, and letting you know that you are missed.