The Wall

The last time that I stared at a stark white hpt, something snapped in me. I think I hit the infertile's version of "the wall." I wasn't ready to see a looming impassable wall staring me down. I just shut down and turned away, sitting in the middle of the road until I could decide what to do next. I didn't cry. I just turned away.

Hubby and I have one more try with clomid and my doc. That last try is on the other side of the wall along with my desire to put my body through more frustration and unnatural turmoil. Clomid is rough on my body. The side effects I experience aren't unusual or extreme. Still, when that particular cycle is over, I feel drained and worn down. Could it be mental or emotional? Sure, I suppose, but one thing I learned through this process is how to listen to my body. That last cycle, my body spoke loud and clear!

We have taken several breaks over the last six years. Usually there is a degree of guilt and panic that settles into the vacant spaces left by temping and calendar obsessing. This time, with the wall staring down on me, there was no guilt. I felt no panic. I just had an overwhelming desire to walk away and never turn back.

The past couple of weeks have been very healing. Many people have come out of the woodworks with stories and words of love that I just can't chalk up to coincidence. The women's bible study that I help my mom do, just happened to speak so profoundly to infertility one night that floodgates burst open with someone very close to me ( a post about that later. It deserves a whole one). I was very affected by the lesson and brought it home for Hubby to watch again with me. It brought me peace and a decision.

Infertility takes such a strong hold on our world and I think that we forget how important it is to take care of ourselves through the process. To sustain a successful pregnancy and bring a baby home is the ultimate goal, but if we are not okay when that baby comes home, I don't think we can be the most effective parent we can be. I have been forced to allow infertility to rob me of the magic and wonder of starting a family. I will never have faith in my body or hope that I might deserve my deepest desires. I refuse to allow infertility to rip away the joy of being a new parent. If I ever have a child I want to enjoy every second. I earned that right. I have to be okay so that is possible.

I filled out my application for college a couple of weeks before our last cycle. My mom asked what I would do if it worked. My first gut instinct was to tell her "Don't worry, it won't." Instead, I just replied, "If God lets me have a child, I will do whatever is necessary to take the very best care of my child." In August I will become a student once again. I am determined to finish my degree this time. I only lack two years. When I finish, I think I will feel more together and satisfied with my life and my ability to parent. My future child gives me enormous motivation to get done quickly and do it well.

It's funny. As infertiles we search desperately and endlessly to be joined with our child. With Mother's Day approaching, we all need to remember, we are already mothers and we are doing everything we can to take care of our babies... even before they come to us. I don't think there is any better display of a true mother's love.