This post was initially written on March 29, 2021.
Going through infertility of any kind is so unbearably hard. I can't speak to everyone's experience, but as a couple who's had "unexplained infertility", it feels like perpetual waves of grief.
It feels like hopelessness.
It feels like everyone's getting what you so desperately want while you sit there with empty arms.
It feels like constant heartbreak seeing joyful posts of new pregnancies.
It feels like isolation because you turn down invitations to showers and parties, for fear you won't be able to not cry.
It feels like you're being punished because biologically nothing is wrong but you still don't have a baby.
This has been our reality for the last 3 years and 7 months. Being open about our journey has been so rewarding but now it's taken the hard turn. I have to tell the sweet women I've been commiserating with that my turn is here. I'm pregnant.
Of course I know exactly what they'll be feeling when they hear, as I've had the same reactions to dozens of people over the years. "Oh I'm so happy for you! .... and so crushed for me. When will it be my turn?" The thought of causing anyone additional pain from our announcement breaks my heart. It's a bittersweet moment, where you're so excited to share with everyone but you know it's going to make at least 1 person cry (and not in a celebratory way).
I get it. I've cried those same tears many, many times.
I wish I could say anything less trite, but here it is. I'm sorry. I see you. I know Mother's Day will be hard again this year. I wish I could wrap you in a big hug and tell you when your time is coming. I'll still be happy to cry and rage with you until you get your big moment, but I also understand if you need to distance yourself from me a little. I get it. It's ok.
The first night of my infertility support group we were talking about coping mechanisms for dealing with the constant pain. One of the women said something to the affect of "I remind myself that I'm still a whole, complete woman even without a baby." I've clung to that- I still have a good life and a wonderful husband, and our life isn't less without a baby. I hope that brings you some hope too, friend.