Life has been really weird since we found out the IUI didn’t work. I don’t know. I’m just so over this shit. Thinking about it makes me angry and bitter, and I don’t want to walk around pissed off every day of my life. So, I’m avoiding it all together.
I haven’t been on Twitter, because I don’t want to talk about infertility, and frankly I don’t want to read all the pregnancy and baby news either, so I’ve cut it off for awhile. I pop on every now and then, but mostly I’m doing my own thing.
L and I have been having good days, and other days it’s a real challenge. I feel vulnerable after this latest infertility failure, and my instinct is to just push away. I was really gung ho for a few days and found myself hastily looking over IVF statistics, protocols, and any bit of information I could get my hands on. Then I got moody, and needed to just put it away. It certainly didn’t help to call my doctor’s office and find out he’s out of the country for the next month. Are you fucking kidding me?
Moody. Let me elaborate on that. I have been incredibly moody. I guess others have been noticing. I was having a conversation with someone I am really close to, and we started arguing about something (I seriously can’t remember what it was) And she said, “How does L put up with you sometimes?” She didn’t mean it as horribly as it came out, but her comment cut deep. I haven’t wanted to deal with how much I have let infertility affect every ounce of my being. It has affected my marriage, my friendships (not many of those left), and even my demeanor and personality. It has slowly taken a lot away from me, and I don’t enjoy life like I used to. This makes me upset and I don’t know whether to cry or scream. I don’t really know how to handle this phase of my life. The only things I can do are forgive myself and try to move forward, but it’s hard. I feel like the life I once lived and the life I once dreamed of are simultaneously slipping away from me, and if I wait long enough, both will be gone forever.
The funny thing is that even if I did get pregnant, I don’t think all of these problems would instantly turn to peaches. But when you’re infertile, you imagine it will. That is a lot of pressure to put on one little baby: solver of everything that is wrong. I definitely have some shit to work out. I definitely have some shit I need to think about. Yes, shit needs to be worked out and thought about.
In better news, I have new work opportunities that hopefully can keep me busy for awhile. I’m grateful for that. I need to distract myself from everything that makes me into a grumpy bitch. It’s just not a good look for me, or for anyone actually.