Can Your Glass Be Both Half Empty & Half Full?
This is a tough post for me to write. I am candidly open about WHAT is going on in my life and HOW I go about doing whatever it is. This is no exception when it comes to our infertility.
Our need for IVF struck a nerve for me. In the back of my mind I always considered that we may need some fertility assistance (hello genetics) but I assumed the involvement would be rather limited. As I mentioned in my previous post I truly thought IUI would be successful, that maybe I had a inhospitable vagine environment and once past the cervix it would be an immediate success. I honestly thought once we admitted we needed help and sought it, we would be one of those couples who got pregnant while still doing diagnostics.
I am heartbroken to say we were not.
My last post was centered on what is next physically for me (because as Dr. Jacobs says, the guys just need to show up). However, the greatest challenge for me is simply, me.
I have been dealing with the struggle of true infertility for nearly two years, with the hopes the medications and minimal intervention would equal a healthy pregnancy and equally healthy baby. The last week I have been struggling with the realization that it is not the case.
I feel that my body has failed me.
Failed. What a horrible thing to admit. A At 28 years old, healthy, vibrant and stable in every sense of the word... it has failed. Failed to do one the most basic and essential human functions on its own.
I am a tragically optimistic person by nature. I can have a miserable day at work, and find a penny next to my car on my way out and my thought process is literally (true story), "well this sucked, but I found a lucky penny, and it's heads up! Today will be ok!"
I have an incredible and loving support system around me, and when they see me flounder have rallied around me. I have been flooded with words of encouragement from every direction.
"Don't give up on your body yet! You haven't done everything you can!"
"You haven't failed, this is just a challenge!"
"Be kind to your body, it's going through a lot!"
"Stop worrying, just relax. It'll happen!"
"You've had one baby, your body knows how to make another!"
"Think positive!"
Normally I am a glass half full kind of person. I can find something positive in any situation.
Alexandra Paige Reichert meets Secondary Infertility.
And struggles. And struggles more. And just when she feels that she has a leg up, she stumbles and struggles some more.
When you hear someone say that your faith and relationships will be tested when going through infertility, they are not effing kidding. In fact they are actually being quite mild. They forget to mention that you will question every one and every thing in your sphere.
In the last 6 years I have been through a lot. I am a planner. Nothing I have planned in my adult life has gone accordingly. So why I am surprised that this has not gone according to plan is beyond me. Truly friends, why the hell am I even remotely surprised?! I am the one person who would go from one extreme to another, and quickly.
The emotional struggle.
This is very hard for me to open up about. I prize myself on being strong mentally. I have pulled myself up by my boot straps and have carried on, but that was much easier to do as I was encountering additions to my life plans. Not the potential subtractions to my world.
Scarlett. Oh my sweet Scarlett. She is the love of my life. Matty and I both question what on Earth we did to deserve a soul like her. She came into our lives unexpectedly, but somehow it was the perfect time and the perfect addition to our crazy world. My love for her is so all encompassing. When she was born I knew my role in this wonderful life was to be a mama, that was my calling. That was my purpose.
I knew I always wanted more kids. I've joked I'd have a dozen if I could afford them. But truly, being a mama is my purpose, my drive. It was never a question of more kids, but more a decision of when. When ScarleyBug was three we made that decision that it was time to add to our brood. And after two years we still have not. And I struggle. I think that only women who have been in this position will understand where I am coming from when I say this.
I feel like an ungrateful ass.
I have a beautiful, compassionate and incredible little girl. She is healthy and happy. She makes every day of my life the best day ever.
And yet. I want more. I feel like this is saying that she is not enough for me, and that is not it. It is that there is something missing. There are other couples out there that cannot have any children and here I am complaining and exasperated about not having another when I already have one.
And I struggle.
I struggle because I am so grateful for this perfect soul that I have been blessed to care for. A life that I cherish and feel so lucky that I have every day.
And I struggle.
I struggle because I feel like something and someone(s) are missing. And I yearn for that completion. My heart hurts because I cannot fill a void that is there and that I so long for. It is a feeling that is consuming and after two years I have finally been able to manage to not let control my world. There was a time about a year ago, when I lived and breathed with the only simple goal of making another baby, and could not focus on anything else.
And I struggle.
I feel guilty. I feel guilty for wanting more. I feel guilty for have having Scarley when I did. I feel guilty that I didn't try to get pregnant with her. I feel guilty that I didn't appreciate it in a way I should have. I feel guilty that I actually recognized this at 23 years old. I feel guilty that it took a lot of soul searching and growing up. I feel guilty when I was so excited to become a mother. I feel guilty when I love our life. I feel guilty that I fell head over heels for her father. I feel guilty when I'm sad when someone I love announces they're pregnant. I feel guilty when I am angry when I am not. I feel guilty that now I'm ready to be a mom again, I can't be. I feel guilty that I feel it isn't enough.
And I struggle.
It is a horrible feeling. It is a weakness I hate to admit. I know that I am not the only one who has felt this way, and I am grateful for those in my life who have reminded me that despite feeling insane, I am normal. My own mama who has gone through infertility with my brother and I, has listened while I wept and felt like a crappy person for admitting my short comings.
I am human.
Oh how I am human. So wonderfully flawed. Every day is different. There are days when I feel like nothing can get me down, and other days where I contemplate the worst. I've talked to my mama about this. How I go from accepting that there is a possibility that Scarlett may be the only child we have, and how I am more than ok with that. To the next day sobbing as the realization that Scarlett may be the only child I have and how that destroys me.
IVF has a 60% success rate per attempt. When we started talking about the possibility of IVF I was excited. I KNEW in my bones that we would have a baby. But as I talked to other moms who have been dealing with infertility for years and unsuccessful transfers, the realization inhilated me that it was very possible, 40% that we may not have another child.
At 28 years old this is life altering. I don't want it to be, but it is. My glass is half full. And in many aspects my glass overflows. I am cautiously optimistic, I know the odds are in our favor. But I am trying to accept the alternative, that I may only have only one child and that is okay too.
And I struggle.
Our need for IVF struck a nerve for me. In the back of my mind I always considered that we may need some fertility assistance (hello genetics) but I assumed the involvement would be rather limited. As I mentioned in my previous post I truly thought IUI would be successful, that maybe I had a inhospitable vagine environment and once past the cervix it would be an immediate success. I honestly thought once we admitted we needed help and sought it, we would be one of those couples who got pregnant while still doing diagnostics.
I am heartbroken to say we were not.
My last post was centered on what is next physically for me (because as Dr. Jacobs says, the guys just need to show up). However, the greatest challenge for me is simply, me.
I have been dealing with the struggle of true infertility for nearly two years, with the hopes the medications and minimal intervention would equal a healthy pregnancy and equally healthy baby. The last week I have been struggling with the realization that it is not the case.
I feel that my body has failed me.
Failed. What a horrible thing to admit. A At 28 years old, healthy, vibrant and stable in every sense of the word... it has failed. Failed to do one the most basic and essential human functions on its own.
I am a tragically optimistic person by nature. I can have a miserable day at work, and find a penny next to my car on my way out and my thought process is literally (true story), "well this sucked, but I found a lucky penny, and it's heads up! Today will be ok!"
I have an incredible and loving support system around me, and when they see me flounder have rallied around me. I have been flooded with words of encouragement from every direction.
"Don't give up on your body yet! You haven't done everything you can!"
"You haven't failed, this is just a challenge!"
"Be kind to your body, it's going through a lot!"
"Stop worrying, just relax. It'll happen!"
"You've had one baby, your body knows how to make another!"
"Think positive!"
Normally I am a glass half full kind of person. I can find something positive in any situation.
Alexandra Paige Reichert meets Secondary Infertility.
And struggles. And struggles more. And just when she feels that she has a leg up, she stumbles and struggles some more.
When you hear someone say that your faith and relationships will be tested when going through infertility, they are not effing kidding. In fact they are actually being quite mild. They forget to mention that you will question every one and every thing in your sphere.
In the last 6 years I have been through a lot. I am a planner. Nothing I have planned in my adult life has gone accordingly. So why I am surprised that this has not gone according to plan is beyond me. Truly friends, why the hell am I even remotely surprised?! I am the one person who would go from one extreme to another, and quickly.
The emotional struggle.
This is very hard for me to open up about. I prize myself on being strong mentally. I have pulled myself up by my boot straps and have carried on, but that was much easier to do as I was encountering additions to my life plans. Not the potential subtractions to my world.
Scarlett. Oh my sweet Scarlett. She is the love of my life. Matty and I both question what on Earth we did to deserve a soul like her. She came into our lives unexpectedly, but somehow it was the perfect time and the perfect addition to our crazy world. My love for her is so all encompassing. When she was born I knew my role in this wonderful life was to be a mama, that was my calling. That was my purpose.
I knew I always wanted more kids. I've joked I'd have a dozen if I could afford them. But truly, being a mama is my purpose, my drive. It was never a question of more kids, but more a decision of when. When ScarleyBug was three we made that decision that it was time to add to our brood. And after two years we still have not. And I struggle. I think that only women who have been in this position will understand where I am coming from when I say this.
I feel like an ungrateful ass.
I have a beautiful, compassionate and incredible little girl. She is healthy and happy. She makes every day of my life the best day ever.
And yet. I want more. I feel like this is saying that she is not enough for me, and that is not it. It is that there is something missing. There are other couples out there that cannot have any children and here I am complaining and exasperated about not having another when I already have one.
And I struggle.
I struggle because I am so grateful for this perfect soul that I have been blessed to care for. A life that I cherish and feel so lucky that I have every day.
And I struggle.
I struggle because I feel like something and someone(s) are missing. And I yearn for that completion. My heart hurts because I cannot fill a void that is there and that I so long for. It is a feeling that is consuming and after two years I have finally been able to manage to not let control my world. There was a time about a year ago, when I lived and breathed with the only simple goal of making another baby, and could not focus on anything else.
And I struggle.
I feel guilty. I feel guilty for wanting more. I feel guilty for have having Scarley when I did. I feel guilty that I didn't try to get pregnant with her. I feel guilty that I didn't appreciate it in a way I should have. I feel guilty that I actually recognized this at 23 years old. I feel guilty that it took a lot of soul searching and growing up. I feel guilty when I was so excited to become a mother. I feel guilty when I love our life. I feel guilty that I fell head over heels for her father. I feel guilty when I'm sad when someone I love announces they're pregnant. I feel guilty when I am angry when I am not. I feel guilty that now I'm ready to be a mom again, I can't be. I feel guilty that I feel it isn't enough.
And I struggle.
It is a horrible feeling. It is a weakness I hate to admit. I know that I am not the only one who has felt this way, and I am grateful for those in my life who have reminded me that despite feeling insane, I am normal. My own mama who has gone through infertility with my brother and I, has listened while I wept and felt like a crappy person for admitting my short comings.
I am human.
Oh how I am human. So wonderfully flawed. Every day is different. There are days when I feel like nothing can get me down, and other days where I contemplate the worst. I've talked to my mama about this. How I go from accepting that there is a possibility that Scarlett may be the only child we have, and how I am more than ok with that. To the next day sobbing as the realization that Scarlett may be the only child I have and how that destroys me.
IVF has a 60% success rate per attempt. When we started talking about the possibility of IVF I was excited. I KNEW in my bones that we would have a baby. But as I talked to other moms who have been dealing with infertility for years and unsuccessful transfers, the realization inhilated me that it was very possible, 40% that we may not have another child.
At 28 years old this is life altering. I don't want it to be, but it is. My glass is half full. And in many aspects my glass overflows. I am cautiously optimistic, I know the odds are in our favor. But I am trying to accept the alternative, that I may only have only one child and that is okay too.
And I struggle.
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