What I Grieve Every Day Because Of Infertility:

Seeing a positive pregnancy stick

Telling N that I'm pregnant

Hearing my baby's heart beat for the first time

Feeling N hold my hand while we look at our baby for the first time

Having a sonogram that showed us a tiny baby growing inside of me

Getting lots of sonogram pictures to post on the fridge and one in a frame for our wall

Finding out the sex of the baby

Sharing the news with all of our families

Picking out new names for the baby or using the ones we already have in mind

Having the cliche pregnancy announcement pictures taken. I always liked the one with the parent's shoes and then the tiny little shoes with the "coming soon" underneath.

Going baby shopping

Planning a nursery for the room upstairs

Dragging my pregnant body to baby showers

Feeling my baby move inside of me

Being annoyed that people feel it's okay to touch my pregnant belly without asking

People asking me about my pregnancy

Getting to talk about being pregnant

Capturing each month of my pregnancy in cute pictures

Deciding whether to breast feed or use formula

Holding my baby inside of my body for 9 months

Having N touch and talk to my big belly

Just being pregnant and all that it involves physically

Lack of sleep

Going to classes

Knowing that my family has all gathered together in the waiting room while I'm in labor

Labor

Holding my baby for the first time

The Fight For Life...

Choosing life and fighting to stay with that choice is hard. It's a battle that never seems to find an end.

In the past 2 years I've fought for different things. I've fought to dream, hope, believe, and trust. I've fought to keep going with trying to get pregnant even when there were no positive results. I've fought to stay calm during scary procedures and surgery. And finally I had to choose to fight for me. Fight to stay alive. I've had to put dreams in a cardboard box and place them in the storage room of my mind so that I can fight for life and not death.

I've put a lot of pressure on myself these past two months to heal quickly. I've fought against my grief and pain so that I can "get a grip" and "cope" better. And then I fought to stop numbing out to every single goddamn thing so that I can name truth about how I am really feeling. 

It's just one big fight that never ends. 

And all I can think about is how tired I am. 

How tired I am of fighting....especially when I have to fight for good things. 

N always reminds me how strong I am...that I've been fighting a long time...and I'm still here. 

I've been fighting in my late twenties to stay alive and not self harm. 

I've been fighting since my mid/late twenties to get pregnant. 

I've been fighting since my early twenties to deal my childhood/teenage baggage and fight the glorious fight of just being who I am. 

I was fighting in my late teens to believe that fairy tales did exist even though I was scared, lonely, naive, and just got a guy who wanted to get off and use me. 

I was fighting since my late teens to stay alive and not take the final exit. It had to get better, right? 

I was fighting in my late teens with an eating disorder, self-harming, and extreme self-contempt. 

I was fighting my whole childhood/teenage years to know if I was really loved and worth anything. 

I was fighting my whole childhood/teenage years with knowing I deserved to be seen and noticed and respected even thought no one else seemed to think that. 

I fought my whole childhood/teenage years to keep from drowning in the noise and chaos of parents who were fighting and screaming constantly. 

I was fighting when I was a little bitty girl to keep from remembering something horrible and traumatic that occurred because everyone trusted this person to be alone with me. 

I was fighting when I was born to stay alive and not die in NICU. 

My whole life has felt like one fight after another. Since the day I came into this world I have been fighting. And more often then not I wonder whether it's worth it to keep fighting. 

My heart is tired and broken, but somehow it's still alive and beating. 

It's strange. 

And I guess astounding.   

The Thoughts In My Head

1. Suicide. I have stared down this precipice several times during these past two years. I've struggled with it in the past and since those times I have never dealt with something so emotional traumatic that triggered all those thoughts...until now.

I read an article last night about how suicide is a completely selfish act and those that choose that path are completely selfish for leaving their loved ones behind to pick up all the pieces. I've had a few people tell me that. Some have said it in regular conversation and others have said it directly towards to my situation. Every single damn time I have heard "suicide" and "selfish" in the same sentence my stomach has always turned. I fight back anger and nausea at those words.

"How dare you think of leaving this earth and not think about the people you will leave behind. Do you even know how devastated it will leave them. Did you even think about what they will have to go through after you willingly leave. You are so selfish to do that to them."


How dare I do that to them. How dare I, who is completely devastated and broken and ripped apart, someone who sits in the darkness every single day, who fights to stay alive every single second, someone who is scared and alone, how dare I not think past my own immediate pain and think of someone else's future pain.

I want to state that I completely understand what people are really trying to communicate. I know that it is their heart crying and breaking at the thought of losing you and they want need you to know how loved you are and how they cannot think of living through life without you.
So why can't we just say that?

Why can't people cry and hold someone's hand and say:

 "I love you. I know that everything is so dark right now, but I need you to know that I am right here. You need to know that I love you so much. Please choose to stay a little longer. Please stay for you. Not me. Stay because you are worth it."

Stay because you are worth it vs Stay because otherwise you are selfish


Suicide is such a complicated matter. There are two sides.
One side contains the person considering/committing suicide
and
the other side contains the people who will be/are left behind.

I've been on both sides of the spectrum.


Currently I am walking away from the precipice. It's never easy to walk away. When everything is dark and painful, you can't see past what's beating you down. You can't think of other people. You can't always think about how your death will leave them feeling.
It's almost like blood is rushing into your ears leaving you unable to hear anything except what's happening in your own body. But we fight. We fight for one more second, one more minute, one more hour, one more day. We live to fight another day. And sometimes we can't fight anymore.
At the precipice we have two options, life or death.
Which one will we fight for today? Which one will win today?

As for me, I'm choosing another day of life. Actually I've chosen a few more months of life. I don't know what happens after that...I've given myself the freedom to not worry about it and to cross the bridge when I get there. As for today, I fought for life. Life for me. Not for someone else....just me.
That doesn't make me selfless... I'm not choosing to stay for other people....honestly other than my husband I can't even begin to care what other people think of my life or death. I'm being selfish. Today I fight for me.



2. Finding My Voice.
I don't think of myself as a strong person. I can be strong when I need to be, but I've never associated it along with my identity....along with who I am. But in the past two years, I have found a strength that I didn't know I had. It's not a loud strength and it's definitely not there every day. It pops up in the strangest moments and spurs me on towards whatever lies ahead. The places I've seen it show up the most is when I am being hurt or taken advantage of.

These past two years have slowly marched me towards standing up for myself regardless of the cost.
I will not stand by anymore and let people walk over me. I will set boundaries and hard, severe ones if need be. I will let my voice be heard even when it threatens the peace.

My voice.
It's has always been kept quiet and defeated after years and years of training and conditioning. Yet these two years have given my voice a courage I can't even begin to grasp. It's hard to explain. All I know is, I have changed and my voice has changed and I won't be steamrolled anymore by anyone.


3. God.
Unknown to anyone, expect my husband and counselor, my faith has taken a sharp detour of a cliff. I have been left hanging on to a god that has left me feeling unheard, unseen, abandoned, worthless, etc. While other's around me seem to be holding onto a secure faith that "God will work things out for the best.", "God is always here with us.", and  "God is in control of everything."  I have been seen all those things violently shredded in front of me.

Some people go through hard times or tragedy and come out stronger in their faith...never doubting their God and his infinite power. They encourage those who are hurting to dive into "The Word" and "Seek God"... "He will show himself if you are listening.".

My whole life I have tried to see who God really is. I've shed old views and picked up new ones. I've felt connected and disconnected to Him. I've always trusted that He cares about me...that He loves me.
These past two years have shaken me to the core. I've listened and sought and wept and fought. I may see small things here and there, but overall I have been left confused and angry.
Apparently I am dealing with a "crisis of faith".

I have decided to just shed everything...I don't really know if I am a "Christian" or not anymore.
I do believe that there is a god out there. I believe that he does exist. I believe that Jesus died and rose again. I didn't choose to believe those things lightly...I've sat with it for awhile. I mean, I can't really figure out anything else if I don't decided whether or not I believe those core things, right? So deep inside of me, I feel that these things are real and so I believe that.

Past all that though, I am totally over it.
I haven't darkened the doors of a church in months. I don't know if I will ever go back. I don't know where any of this will lead or end. I just know that slowly I will figure it out and figure out what I believe regardless of what my friends or the general populous believes.

I have some other thoughts on this subject, but for right now I'll leave it here....

Happiness.

I'm sitting here in the quiet surrounded by a half lit/half dark room. It's been another day of me sitting on the couch watching YouTube videos and Netflix bingeing. It's not unusual behavior...in fact...it's becoming the new norm in my life. The safety and quietness of my house contains my tears and pain without the questions or strange looks or the need to pretend.

This weekend I've had to pick myself up and push myself out the door with the desire to not miss the time offered to me by a friend. And on Monday night I gathered up the strength, slapped a smile on my face, pushed down the pain and went out to celebrate a dear friends birthday, but even up until all those moments I was wrapped up in blankets in the dark.

I don't feel happy.

Yet, when I post on Facebook or Instagram I look happy...and truth be told in those captured moments I was as close to happiness as I could possibly be.

I look at my face in the pictures from Monday and this weekend and good god, I look so happy. I want to run back and just sit in those moments forever. I even cried last night about how I just wish "I could be happy again."

I remember what true happiness feels like...it's just been a really, really, really long time since I have felt that deep in my bones. It's weird to me that I can feel some happiness...a temporary happiness and then as quickly as it was there it suddenly disappears again. Small moments that I make sure to snap a picture of so I can look back and puzzle over the smile that desperately is trying to mask the overwhelming pain I feel.

I wonder how it looks to other people who might know all or some of the pain I'm going through. Does it puzzle them that I can write/cry/isolate myself, but suddenly show up in a picture looking full of life and happiness? I feel conflicted between hiding forever in this darkness and not wanting to miss the life events of other's around me. Goddammit. I feel shame for looking/feeling happy and then coming home and stripping my clothes and mask off and falling into a depressed heap on the couch.

I lied about how happy I was. Or did I? Fuck if I know what's what anymore.

Am I happy? No.

Was I temporarily happy in those moments? Yes.

Why should I give a crap about what other's think? Because I'm afraid.

I just want to be happy again and not have this pain touch every part of my heart. I want to look at events and pictures and know that I was really truly happy in those moments and that I came home feeling elated and refreshed. I want to not push down the pain in a desperate attempt to show up as fun, carefree Mal so that no one is made uncomfortable by me or because of the feeling that if I miss showing up to this then I'll never get the moment back again.

Does this even make any sense?!
Screw it. It's back to Netflix for me...

Social Media & The Ache

Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and Twitter are just some of the social media outlets everyone uses on a daily basis. We can upload our lives with just a single click and create hundreds of boards ranging from our favorite celebrities to inspirational quotes to diy projects.

It's highly addictive and quite fun! 

On Facebook there are so many pictures of kindergarten/high school/college graduations, engagements,  weddings, pregnancy announcements, births, birthdays, etc. We "like" the pictures and celebrate with the customary "Yay!", "Congrats!", "So happy for you!". 

On Instagram we are surrounded by more pictures that say: "Look at my awesome relationship with my significant other", "Look at how healthy I eat", "Look at how much I work out", "Look at my cute dog/cat/bird/fish", "Look at how cute my baby is", "Look at my bestest friend", "Look at all my awesome adventures", etc. We tap on that little "heart" to like the picture and may or may not add a comment.   

On Pinterest we are greeted with hundreds of pins that show us what our friends are interested in right now. At this moment, my feed is full of recipes, all things concerning babies, vacation spots, nerdy things, home decorating ideas, more baby stuff, fashion, and a few more recipes.   

We love to show off who we are and what we are thinking about! I mean, come on, who doesn't.

 Okay...I can think of a few people. ;-) But more often then not we like to post, like, and share everything.  

I wonder though, how do we really feel about all of this? 

I know that it can't be easy for my single friends to see all of these dating posts and engagement/wedding pictures. I know that it can't be easy for any woman to see pictures of skinny girls who just finished a workout or is now eating more rabbit food. I know it's hard to not have contempt for the gorgeous #nomakeup selfies (I mean really?! How is that even fair?). I know that it's heartbreaking to see every pregnancy announcement, especially the precious little sonogram picture, and it's hard to see happy mommies posting all their cute baby selfies.  

All these things make "the ache" in our heart hurt a little more. It reminds us of how much we are longing for something and how once again someone else gets to enjoy what we hope for every day. We wonder whether those things will ever happen for us. 

Yes, we are happy for those around us. I don't want to take that away from anyone. 

But I do not want to forget the silent pain we all go through. The ache that is frequently ignored and dismissed by social media every day. 

Today I am sitting in a quiet house, still in my pjs with a heart full of unfulfilled longings. I scrolled through all my social media feeds and felt the ache widen so I closed it all down and decided to write what was on my heart. 

If you feel the ache after scrolling through your news feeds, if you feel forgotten or lonely, if you wonder if God is even listening to your heart, I want you know that I'm here with you. 

I'm sitting in the ache and I see you. 

Hope...

Hope invites you to a place at the table. It's precious, tender and gives you a sense of belonging. Hope fills your heart and mind with dreams and longings. Hope is sometimes synonymous with happiness. When you feel hopeful, you feel happy and vice versa. Hope is redemptive.

But...

Hope is also the very thing that makes your longings ache without comfort. It is fleeting and time sensitive...you never know when your hope will "dry up". Hope makes a fool out of our hearts. Hope lets in dark lies that whisper a sweet song in our ears. Hope is a dangerous thing.

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One week from now we'll see if all the medications I've been taking, the "special" injection, and the sonogram to check on my follicles have helped. Tomorrow I go in for another progesterone test and then a week after that I go in for a pregnancy blood test. That scares me.

I've never gotten used to seeing a negative on the pregnancy strip. And now for the first time I'll be waiting for someone to call me and tell me whether our dreams have come true or not.

I'm terrified.

I want to hope that this is it. With this phone call we can breath and dream and plan and cry some happy tears. I want this to happen so badly. I want the phone call to tell us that God has shown up for us in a huge, miraculous way.

One phone call can change our life.

What's going to happen?
Do I dare to hope that something good will finally happen?

Multiple Choice

When you ask me how I'm doing do you mean:

A) You are serious and actually want to know exactly how I am doing?
B)Asking because you want to see how good I should be doing?
C) Asking to be polite, but not really interested in the realness?

When you ask me if I've taken a pregnancy test because my period is late do you realize that:

A)   I'm now going to shut down emotionally.
B) I have taken more pregnancy tests then I would care to admit and taking one more and seeing a negative (again) is heartbreaking?
C) You make me feel stupid for sharing this personal thing with you.

When you ask me if I've considered adoption do you realize that:

A) You have asked an insensitive question?
B) You have completely dismissed my longing to give birth with my own body?
C) Yes, we have considered it and yes, we would like to adopt regardless of getting pregnant or not.

When you ask me "Are you feeling better yet?" do you realize that:

A) I did not stub my toe or catch a cold? I did not get pregnant once again.
B) That question makes me feel like you are rushing my grief to be over with?
C) You have dismissed almost 2 years of my grief and heartbreak in one question?

Do you realize that when I share something personal about my infertility experiences:

A) I do not want you to share it with others (no matter how small or big). This is my story to share.
B) There are no other options than (A).

Do you realize that when you flippantly say "Don't worry about it. You'll get pregnant.":

A) I want to shake you hard and slap the shit out of you?
B) This is so hurtful and inconsiderate to my pain?
C) You have no right to say this because it may never happen and all it does is shame me and my body.

If I don't reply to a well meaning message of support: 

A) It does not mean I don't appreciate it. Quite the opposite. It's just that some times I feel a loss of words and a simple thank you feels impersonal and distant. I apologize if I don't respond...sometimes I feel to defeated to offer anything back.

When you say "You're so lucky to not have kids." or "You have no idea how hard it is.":

A) My heart feels physically stripped bare and beaten.
B) I would love to feel how hard it is.
C) No, I am not lucky that my body cannot give me the one thing I want most.

When you talk about how birth control is to blame for infertility do you realize: 

A) How hurtful that is? I took it for almost five years. Are you saying that it's my fault I'm not pregnant? If so then you need to go have a talk with Jesus. Stop being insensitive and uninformed!
B) That by saying this you show that you have not done any research about infertility and are just saying things you have heard or read on the internet.
C) bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. bleep. bleep. bleep.


I know it's hard to understand, but:

A) Every day is painful and hard. There are few good/easy days.
B) I want to be a mother so much. There is no erasing that ache.
C) I need support and love. It's lonely in the ocean of infertility. Very lonely.
D) I rarely ask for help, but that doesn't mean I don't need it. I do. Desperately.