Monday, February 16, 2015

I Don't Know What My Feels Are

So I haven't been blogging a lot.  And it's mostly because I don't know how to express what I'm feeling.  Because I don't really know what I'm feeling?  Feelings are weird?

When I was in the trenches my feelings were very difficult to experience, but very, very easy to articulate.  I felt sad/mad/bitter/resentful/hormonal/misunderstood/defective/alone/jealous/unfeminine/unhappy/unmyself.  Now my feelings are easy to deal with but I have no idea what they are.  People keep telling me I seem so much happier.  Am I?  Am I happy?  Is this what happiness feels like?  Could I really have forgotten what happiness feels like to such an extent that I don't recognize it anymore when I feel it?

After months of raging depression and ferocious anger, walking around and not feeling that way is strange and it feels a lot like being emotionless.  Don't get me wrong, I don't miss the emotion storm.  This isn't one of those things where I tell you that I started personifying my depression and came to view her as a constant companion and friend.  Nuh uh.  That jerkface can stay away forever.

But I am trying to figure out who I am without it.  And it's not as easy as just remembering who I was Before, because I'm never going to be that girl again.  That girl never had to deal with ANYTHING as hard as seeing blood on toilet paper and having no choice but to spend the rest of the day crying.  Those experiences changed me.  So if she's gone, and my barren hag persona is, at least for the moment, dormant, then who am I now?  And what does now feel like?

These are the things I have been thinking about lately.  I don't know if they make sense to anyone else.  They barely make sense to me.  But I'm figuring it out, and I'll keep you posted.

(P.S.  For those who have asked, and for those who didn't ask but are still wondering, I'm just over 8 weeks.)

Thursday, February 5, 2015

Pregnant Women Who Complain

So you know how one of the worst things that a pregnant woman can do around an infertile is complain about how hard pregnancy is and jokingly ask if said infertile reeeeeally wants to go through it?

Now that I am on the other side, I have some things to say about that.

First of all, pregnancy is totally hard.  Things I have gone through so far include:

1.  Running out of class to throw up.
2.  Walking home even though it takes an hour because I can't bike anymore without vomiting and my husband can't always give me a ride.
3.  Period-like cramps for TWO WEEKS STRAIGHT peppered with sharp pangs that I have never experienced as my uterus swells to an unheard of size (no blood, though, so no cause to worry).
4.  Waking up in the middle of the night to throw up.
5.  Throwing up for half an hour straight, so hard that chunks were coming out my nose, then getting a nose bleed as well so that blood and vomit are just spewing out of my face orifices in an endless stream of disgusting bodily fluids.
6.  Awkwardly avoiding questions from friends and family about my ttc journey because I'm not comfortable telling EVERYONE yet.
7.  Peeing like basically every seven minutes.
8.  Bloating and feeling fat and unattractive.
9.  Constant exhaustion.
10.  Difficulty sleeping because of all the stress dreams and the inconvenience of trying to train myself to sleep on my side when I've always been a sleep-on-the-stomach kind of person.
11.  Insane cravings.
12.  Super fun pimples all over my face.
13.  Inability to eat sushi or rare meat or soft cheeses or alcohol or excessive seafood (all my favorite things).
14.  Wild mood swings that have me sobbing one second and laughing the next.
15.  Fear and anxiety about miscarriage or complications.
16.  Throwing up.  Yes, this deserves FIVE spots on the list because, seriously, it is the worst.

These things are not fun.  They are, in fact, rather inconvenient.  But let me tell you something, ladies.  And I want you to know that I mean this from the bottom of my heart.

Even without all those symptoms, struggling with infertility is still harder.  SO MUCH HARDER.  IT IS NOT EVEN CLOSE.

Because all those things (except the mood swings and the anxiety, but they come with fertility drugs, too) are purely physical, and I can handle physical difficulties all day.  All day.  For nine months.  No freaking sweat.

Having the emotional burden of barrenness and fear that I will never get pregnant lifted off of my shoulders is HUGE.  I'm doing better in school.  I had five interviews last weekend for summer employment and I nailed them, even through the nausea.  In fact, I already have two offers.  I'm remembering all the good things about my life and enjoying being where I am instead of wishing, so hard, that I could fast forward.  Life is honestly, genuinely, dramatically easier now.

So I just want you all to know that when you grumble behind your compassionate nods as some fertile myrtle tells you that you're just so lucky to not have to go through what she's going through... you are so unbelievably right when you think about how wrong she is.  What you're going through is harder.  So much harder.  She will never understand.  But I will understand if you decide to slap her, because she is the worst.
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