Cycle 3: Day 9

No emotion.  That’s what I feel right now, or rather what I don’t feel.  Except tired – I am tired.  Tired of having no control over myself, of feeling nothing, of taking pills, of being poked and jabbed. of feeling sick every day. Granted, this is probably the meds talking, but I can’t help but wonder if the question I keep asking myself is actually from me: Is this all worth it?

I’m trying to be strong – to not feel apathetic, depressed, doubtful but it is so hard.  Every month that a cycle gets cancelled I feel like a failure and I can’t stop thinking about the time and money that I'VE wasted because my body isn't responding to the medication.  And although it’s only been two cycles, it feels like I've been in a constant state of failure.

I know in my heart that I’m not.  A failure, I mean.  I know in my heart that I’m really not a depressing person.  I know in my heart that I am not worthless and hopeless.  I know that in my heart.  But the sinking feeling I keep having from my head sometimes makes it hard to believe.

Cycle 3: Day 6

I want to give a shout out to all you supportive spouses.

Thank you for your constant encouragement and support.  Thank you for holding us while we struggle with feeling inadequate, broken, and like a failure.  Thank you for editing your language and knowing what is and isn’t okay to say.  Thank you for knowing how to love and lift us.  Thank you for missing an event because we couldn’t bear being in public.  Thank you for dealing with the doctor visits, the financial struggles, and especially the crazy-eyes (you know what I’m talking about).

Most of all thank you for understanding and remembering – understanding that this is not easy and remembering that all the discomfort, pain, and sadness is for something GOOD – for our future family.

Thank you.

I love you and think you’re wonderful.  Thank you for going through this so we can have kids.  I know it’s not easy on you and I appreciate it.

–Text from Garrett yesterday after a dr. appointment

Cycle 3: Day 5

Whew!  So I just finished re-designing this whole blogsite and it has been so much fun!  I’ve changed my website a lot, but never a complete revamp and I am SO happy with how it turned out – it’s totally me!

With the new design I decided to open up a bit more about the things going on in my life, particularly my experiences as Garrett and I go through fertility treatments.  This is the first post I’ve written knowing that people will be able to see it – all the previous posts were written on a private blog that I shared only with Garrett. No one saw it.  So this is kind of a big deal.  I’ve been going over this decision in my mind for a while now – to make these posts public/accessible.  I’ve hesitated because I view everything I do as an extension of my brand/business (which is an extension of me) – and I really don’t want to be that person who shares WAY too much about their personal life on the internet…like T.M.I.-ville.

Obviously I decided to take the plunge.  Why?  In my short time in “infertility land” (2 years is short – I know people who’ve been here for 10+ years) I’ve been blessed to meet so many women who are struggling with infertility as well.  Each situation is unique, but there is an instant connection between women who face infertility.  These women have showed me how easy it is to be closed off about your problems and endure them alone AND how easy it is to share your trials and find support and encouragement.  Especially as of late I’ve been meeting women who are where I was almost two years ago.  I feel that it’s 100% easier to deal with something when you know and can talk with someone who’s been there (so yes, that means a conversation…meaning you can ask me questions/offer advice & insight if you want to).

I started blogging because (1) I hate to write by hand (it hurts) and (2) to cope (poor Garrett – He’s spent way too many nights awake consoling me).  So while I’m writing in a public area, I’m writing more for me – because I need to.

I hope if you’re reading this that you might find some strength/hope/empathy/compassion from me – even if your trial isn’t fertility-related.

We all struggle.  We all need someone to just listen.  So thank you for being my listening ear.