I'm sick of all of this. It really is beginning to take a toll on my emotional, spiritual and physical well-being. Not only that, it is impacting strongly on my relationships around me, particularly with my husband and daughter.
I hate that I am in tears most days at this point. And if not in tears, I am either close to tears or have a cocktail of miserable feelings bubbling beneath the surface.
Maybe it would be easier to accept that it's just not meant to be - another biological child in our family. It feels like too much energy is going into something that may not even happen.
The fact is I am not ovulating and until that resumes, I am at a standstill.
I always thought I'd have two kids. Two little girls, actually. But at this point I would be just as happy with a boy!
But life of course doesn't always unfold as we might like it to. This wouldn't be the first dream I've had to let go of. And I've gotten over other disappointments in life; I'm sure I would in time over this as well.
The funny thing is throughout this harrowing process, I seem to be accepting my powerlessness in life on a deep level. I'm not religious yet I have been playing worship songs at night lately while doing the dishes. It seems to give me the space to cry and just to feel the connection with the God of my understanding. I feel as though I am in a constant grieving process where I move through the classic 7 stages of grief: shock/disbelief, denial, anger, bargaining, guilt, depression, acceptance and hope. Right now I feel I want to get off the infertility merry-go-round and reclaim my life back. Life is after all, about more than raising a family. I need to be reminded of that constantly when looking at the world with tunnel-vision through my wannabe Mum's distorted eyes.
I feel I have lost some aspects of me over the last year or so and I don't like the desperate woman I have become. When we tried for our first child we had no idea about our fertility and really let go of the outcome saying it could take even two years to try and if it didn't work out, we'd consider adoption. This time round I started the process with anxiousness, with the expectation that things would take a while and that it might not happen. I am haunted by my obstetrician's warning at my daughters delivery that I might enter menopause early. Seems like she was possibly right and so in many ways I am fighting what seems like a hopeless situation. Today I just want to give up the fight as I'm not sure it's worth it.
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