Most days I’m on top of it and busy enough with life.
Most days my logic outweighs my emotions and I’m OK with being patient.
But some days, I’m not.
Some days, the feelings attached to infertility hit me like a ton of bricks. And that seesaw of logical brain vs. emotions switches and sends me crashing to the ground in a sobbing heap.
Navigating this journey of struggling to conceive a second time is similar but also so different to the first time. Sometimes it seems less intense, mostly because life is busy with a 3-year-old so distraction is key. But other times are much harder, because I know what I am missing out on. The beauty of pregnancy and how much I enjoyed it, the excitement of creating and meeting this new little person and all they will be, and of course the idea of Emmett having a sibling and our family feeling complete.
It hits me, I break down and it all unravels.
I wish I could experience the excitement of deciding to try, and fall pregnant soon after. The sense of achievement to happen so quickly and almost effortlessly. The joy of announcing to loved ones and it be a complete surprise. Not the worry that friends around me feel they need to be on eggshells or hide their own celebrations and miracles. Not the guilt that others feel the need to filter what they say to you. Or the pain when there is no filter at all too. Not the twinge of jealousy when an announcement pops up in your feed. Not the dread of all the testing, waiting, appointments and examinations involved with a not-so-smooth ride. Not the sense of “What is wrong with my body? Why won’t it do what everyone else’s seems to? Why am I faulty? Why again? Why me?”
This is a club no one ever asks to be part of, but it can be an incredible support system too.
Without this heartbreaking thought that this could be it—this is us. That it just won’t happen how we hoped and dreamed, and that is our life decided for us. The thoughts and feelings that other couples may never even have to consider in their lifetime.
So to anyone else out there feeling the seesaw shift too—I see you and I feel you, girl. This is a club no one ever asks to be part of, but it can be an incredible support system too.
We can do this.