Reflection

On October the 1st Fabulously 40 hosted a day just to bitch. I happened upon this and thought, "Wow, what timing! Round 2 of clomid and I get a day just for me to bitch about stuff! I can't wait!" I just knew with all of my crazy and emotional hormones that I could find several things to ruffle my feathers with. I sat down that afternoon, my hands poised in the air ready to attack the keys in a flurry of bitchiness.... nothing happpened.

Most of the things I was angry about belonged to me and only me. I'm angry about my body and its inability to work the right way. I can't really control that and I have moved past the point of anger with it. I just could not spare any extra energy for anger or grumpy feelings that day. It sort of surprised me and I tried to internally explore that for a while as I went to sleep.

I found that I have replaced (at least for now) my anger with sadness. It isn't that weepy sorry for myself sadness (although we all need those times for ourselves too). This is more of a deep blue brooding sort of sad like the sky as it darkens before a storm. It is a quiet sad. When I visit there I just find myself wanting to sit there and be.

There are times when seeing a pregnant person sends a spike of pain into my heart. I find myself angry with the world or hollowed out and empty. I hear a baby laugh and my feet are stuck motionless to the floor as a flood of feelings wash over me. I still have these times, but lately the feelings I have go so much deeper than that. It is hard for me to explain but that primitive ache in my heart for a baby isn't enough. There is this feeling of incomplete down deep inside. I feel like I am not as much of a woman as I should be. I feel inadequate and unfulfilled. I not only grieve the lack of a child now but the right to have one. It is like Mother Nature has given me a stamp of unapproval or unworthiness to mother.

I know that this isn't truly the case. But I can't shake that nagging voice that wonders why I wasn't chosen to be a mom. My heart is breaking. Each time someone asks if I have children I feel Mother Nature's stamp glow on my forehead as I struggle to eek out an answer that hopefully hides the despair in my voice.

I see the same clouds etched into Hubby's eyes now. He has caught up to me and our relationship has changed so much through this experience. We are very close and we hug a bit longer than most couples our age. We hold hands and find joy in simple unspoken moments that many our age take for granted. As we watch a neighbor's child toddle in the yard I know without looking at him that I will find a reflective pool in his eyes matching that of my own. We are able to brush hands and exchange a flood of feelings without a single glance or whisper.

I had hoped that we would find Round 2 with a renewed hope and vigor to fight. I am surprised that both of us have entered the same fighting ring hand in hand quiet and thoughtful. I think part of that had to do with the way we came about this cycle. It was more of a "Let's get your body under control again" than a "Hey let's try to have a baby" type thing. The symptoms are more pronounced and exaggerated this time around. I get sick and exhausted. My hot flashes will melt other peoples' shoes off their feet and my throbbing migraines have been flagged for their seismic activity. Hubby is right behind me this time. Each time I turn to look he surprises me with a hand at my back for support. We stand on the top of the hill in the midst of the storm holding each other up unable to retreat or move forward.

As we stand there with the winds whipping and swirling around us we share one unspoken word....
Someday...