I keep thinking of posts to start and things I want need to say, and never following through on them. Partly because I don’t feel like I have the time to get it all out and get it right. Partly because sleep deprivation really messes with your head. But mostly because I’m a bit afraid now that I put this all out there to people I know in real life. I’ve been censoring myself, and I don’t want to do that anymore. So I’m not going to. I know there are a lot of people who care about me who read this now, and I hope that you can understand that I just need to get somethings out to help me process my own thoughts. This is how I think things through, and I need that now.

I’ve been thinking a lot about birth control and the (short and long term) future of our family lately, and that’s mostly where this is stemming from. Oh the irony of the infertile girl worrying about getting pregnant…

Just the thought of thinking about trying again makes me want to curl up in my bed and cry. Who knows, maybe we won’t need a team full of medical professionals to get knocked up next time (although, just a note for all you fertile people out there: just because you can get pregnant doesn’t magically make you fertile. Yes, some couples can have a second child on their own, but not as often as you think. I know you mean well, but you don’t know the details of our diagnosis and if that will be us. Your comments, which you think are kind and hopeful, really just aren’t. Ok? Wow, sorry about that rant).

Where was I? Oh yeah, crying in bed. Now I fully admit that I have a tendency to needless worry over many things, and Pignut isn’t even 70 days old yet. But still. Do you know how hard it can be to even think about trying to reach a goal when you know odds are you’ll fail? And I’m talking about something so basic, so simple, so innate that millions of people can’t help but do it. Drug addicts. Teenagers. Depending in the stats you read, 35-50% of pregnancies are unplanned. And then there’s us: the infertiles (dear Jesus autocorrect, stop trying to change that the “inferiors.” I don’t need your help making me feel worse)

And that’s really the hard part for me. I can take the needles again. The side effects. The procedures. The risks. The blood draws. The internal ultrasounds. The way it completely consumes your life, marriage, every waking thought. But I don’t know if I can take the emotional abuse infertility dishes out. I don’t want to feel like a failure again. I don’t want to put everything I have into something I really have absolutely no control over.

We survived last time. I survived last time. But this stuff really fucks with your head. And it’s not just the two of us anymore. I wrote once about how surprised I was that made it through round one ok (and, yeah, obviously ok is a relative term here. It’s quite clear infertility has done some damage. That’s kinda the whole point of this post.). But I have a sweet, beautiful little boy who needs me now. What if I’m not so lucky next time? What if I don’t make it out ok? Is that I risk I can take anymore?


3 thoughts on “risk

  1. Although I know I won’t ever be able to really understand all you’ve gone through or how you feel now, I do know that even though it must have been a long, hard, scary struggle, and you inevitably worry about failure, you have already had the ultimate success……..all you have to do is look into those big beautiful eyes of your success. (which I know you are probably doing right now!) I’m sure thinking about next time and potentially not having such success must be terrifying,…. so don’t. Just enjoy your sweet little success and remember that you don’t have to go through it all again if you don’t want to (that part IS in your control)…. you already have your Pignut.

    And I know that your specifics are unique to you and your life and situation, making it a million times different. But, all moms worry about trying again and the effect it’ll have on their sweet baby. Will there be enough of me to go around? What would happen if something happened to me? What if I can’t handle it all emotionally when I have this little one depending on me? Is it worth it to rock the boat that’s sailing so smoothly right now? The risks are usually worth it for the great rewards, but that’s always an individual decision. So, while the details are certainly different for you, making the stakes higher and the risks more real, the worry is a natural consequence of motherhood. It shows what an amazing mom you are and how in just a moment your whole life and focus shifted.

    And all of us family and friends telling you to try again or making comments about how it might be easier next time? Ignore us. We just like to talk and hardly ever really know the right thing to say. But, we’re trying our best………because we love you guys.

    Oh, and give that sweet boy a kiss for me. I miss him like crazy!

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