I'm not sure when it happened, but something shifted. I went from being the kind of person who thought bad things only happened to other people to the kind of person who thinks that bad things only happen to me. Other people get the happy endings, not me. "They" will get exactly what they want with very little struggle and no unexpected "surprises" in the end. I will not be so lucky. I will forever live on the wrong side of statistics. I'm the 1 in 1000, aren't I special?
Actually I lie, I know exactly when the shift happened. It was on September 12, 2010 at my 36 week scan when I was told that my son had died. All through my struggle with infertility I kept telling myself that it would all work out in the end. That once I finally got pregnant then all would be well. I naively figured that after 7 years of struggle I was owed at least that. I had an easy (minus the morning sickness), complication free pregnancy. I was finally going to have my miracle baby.
Until that day, in that room, with those words... there's no heartbeat. That's the day it all shifted for me. I somehow went from a super optimistic person to someone who realized that there would be no easy road for me. I was the kind of person that bad things happened to. Not because I had done anything wrong or somehow deserved it. But because bad things just happen, and apparently the universe has decided that they were going to happen to me.
It's hard to continue to be happy for those "other people." The people out there that bad things don't happen to. The majority of folks who never struggle to get and stay pregnant. Those who just go off birth control, get pregnant, and then 9 months later share their happy post-birth photos of their new happy family.
Please don't think that I would wish my misery on them because I don't. It's just hard to see everyone else getting what I am fighting tooth and nail for with such ease. They are in a place that I can only hope someday to be.
Now I know there will be those of you reading this who want to reach through their computer screens and give me a good old slap. I know that many of you are still deep in the trenches of infertility. A place where that elusive positive pregnancy test seems to mock you at every turn. A world filled with hormone injections and cycle dates. Your life ruled by the calendar and completely taken over by doctors apointments. A world where the outcome of peeing on a stick will either fill you with joy or send you crying to your bed.
You are probably thinking, "Who are you to talk?? You're pregnant. All I want is to be pregnant. If only I could get pregnant than I could move on from the nightmare of failed cycle after failed cycle." Believe me, I get that and I probably deserve a slap or two for feeling so sorry for myself.
But you have to remember that I have been here before. For me, just being pregnant doesn't assure me anything. The last time I was pregnant I thought I was "all clear" only to have everything ripped away from me at 36 weeks.
After the baby shower. After all the clothes had been purchased and washed. After all the baby stuff had been purchased and delivered. After that terrible day when all I was left with was a house full of baby stuff and empty arms.
So for me, the journey doesn't end until I have a healthy living baby to bring home with me. Only then will I believe that perhaps it's all real. Only then will I start to allow myself to believe that perhaps something bad won't happen to me this time. That perhaps I've had my fair share of bad stuff happen. Although just writing those words down feels a lot like tempting fate to me.
I'm not sure I will ever be able to shift back to my old self. I think I will forever be "That Woman." The woman who bad things happen to. An outsider of sorts. Struggling to fit in and just be happy for other people without letting my own unhappiness and jealousy get in the way.
Dealing with the loss of a child is never easy, but it's even more difficult when you are an expat living far from home. Life will never be "normal" again and so now the challenge is to find my new normal. I am now back in the USA and the proud parent of two daughters, born using two different egg donors. "Frostina" and "Olea" are the loves of my life and I feel so grateful for the amazing women who donated their eggs and made my family possible.
I certainly hope not!!! Knock on wood, lady. :)
ReplyDeleteI've had bad stuff happening to me my whole life. When IF came and slapped me in the face, it was more like "I was expecting that." And I was, because nothing easy ever happened for me. I can say that the only thing that went our way was insurance coverage, and that fact that we started TTC sooner than later. I always tell my husband that I used up all of my luck finding the right man.
I hope for you the shift does happen and you are able to live and see yourself in the positive. It is a hard battle that we are all fighting but I'm hoping somewhere we are able to someday not look over our shoulders in constant fear. {{Hugs}}
ReplyDeleteI do NOT want "give you a slap," I want to reach through the computer and give you a huge hug. Finally, someone who understands how I feel. Perfectly articulated. Honestly, I don't know how to "shift" out of it.
ReplyDeletewhat you write makes total sense to me. You've been pregnant before and were a mere few weeks away from bringing your darling baby boy home. This clearly changed you profoundly, and of course it did. I am not pregnant and would like to be, but I have no urge to slap you. Instead, I wish I could make you a cup of tea and hold your fears and hope for a few hours.
ReplyDeleteHere is to a healthy, bouncing baby that you will get to hold in your arms very soon.
I know exactly how you feel...because I feel that way, too. And really, I speak as a qualified veteran infertile, there have been many days over the last six months when I wished a bit for the simple longing to be pregnant for the first time, for the innocence and irritation of the old me. This - my reality of life after losing the most precious thing, the only thing I ever wanted - is a Hell that thankfully not every infertile has to live through, because it sucks worse than anything else I could imagine. Oh, and so does the facing treatments again after losing an ART baby or babies...I know for me and my husband, now that we've seen our own offspring and held and kissed them, we want our own children more than ever before, and it's pushed that "maybe" of adoption even further into the realm of "I'd rather not."
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ReplyDeleteI, myself have not struggled with infertility, but I do have a close friend who has. She isn't one to really share her feelings, so she didn't really talk about it when she had her 2 miscarriages after tons of treatments and so much money spent. I didn't "get it" at all until I lost Caroline in the 39th week. But even still, I don't "get it"...not all the way.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing how you're really feeling about the infertility and loss. I think you're helping so many people by sharing your heart. Even though our struggles have been different, there have been similarities and you've offered me comfort and company on many occasions.
Thinking of you as you progress through this pregnancy!
I've experienced a similar shift myself (I used to believe I really led a charmed life, now I obviously know that's not true). I wonder, though, the extent to which infertility complicates it even more. A friend of mine recently had a baby after multiple fertility treatments. She's $46,000 in debt to pay for all of it, but she turned to me and said, "But she's worth it." Of COURSE she's worth it. There's no sum I wouldn't pay to have my child back. But, knowing what my friend went through, and given my own experience of loss, I can imagine the agony of paying vast sums of money, enduring hormone treatments and injections, experiencing the removal of love-making from the equation of baby-making, and a loss like yours seems all the more unfair. You DESERVE a happy ending this time. But you deserved it last time, too. And what's so scary is that we've had to wake up and realize that people don't really get what they deserve. But still, sometimes (most of the time--999 out of 1,000 times) people get lucky.
ReplyDeleteSo I'm wishing you lots and lots of luck. I feel confident for you, but I know how hard it is to feel confident for me, so I understand your doubts and fears. May you be posting pictures of your living, breathing baby 20 weeks from now.
I am wrapping my mental arms around you and embracing you in such a big hug. I wish that any of us could give you a guarantee that it would turn out differently. All we can do is send our prayers/good energy and hopes. And you have all of mine.
ReplyDeleteI absolutely would NOT slap you! I would reach through the computer and hug you if possible, well, and if you're a hugger. You have EVERY right to these feelings, don't beat yourself up over them.
ReplyDeleteAww the shift...things were so much better before Addison died! I am such a Negative Nelly now. I used to believe good things happened to good people, but now it's clear shit happens to everyone...especially good people!
ReplyDeleteInfertilty treatments have not been a part of my journey, but I have watched friends go through it. Breaks my heart on a whole new level. Thank you for sharing this process and helping others (like me) to understand more of what goes into this because I think being ignorant is so much worse.
I don't have answers. But I also don't have expectations. I don't see any reason why you would feel like good things happen to people right now. I wish with all my heart for a healthy Frosty for you, but I won't pretend like, if you had such an experience, it would somehow invalidate this feeling.
ReplyDeleteyou'll be in my prayers... God lets things happen for a reason, at times rough things are blessing in disguise, we just need to realize it.. we should also realize what God wants us to do, nothing is impossible with him and He won't let us, His children to get hurt and be unhappy... read His word in the bible, am sure He will give you the comfort that no one can give.. talk to him, cry if you must and surrender everything.. let Him do what He wants to happen in your life sweetie and am sure you will be perfectly alright.... i love your blog!!! i am so following you now... if you need someone to talk to, am willing to listen sweetie... i'm willing to listen... hope you'll have time to visit my blog... pray always!!!
ReplyDeleteWhen my son died after his premature delivery five years ago, I absolutely felt this shift. I think I felt the shift begin at the moment the doctor confirmed I was in pre-term labor. It's awful. Even now, with a living son, I still can't shake the echoes of that voice telling me I'm someone to whom bad things happen. They don't dominate my days and nights, though. I like to think that at worst, I can be a bit grumpy. At best, it makes me a more tolerable person to be around, a much better friend. There probably are people who look at you and think, "You're pregnant, why are you still sad? Why complain?" But they either haven't had a loss that can make them understand, or they're hurting so much from their own fear and loss. I can understand the latter group so much. A friend introduced me to your blog, and I'll be reading now, keeping all appendages cross until you bring home this baby.
ReplyDeleteI know the shift as well. I seriously used to have it all. I don't recall a single thing being out of place in my life. And having a baby? Obviously that would work out because I had "friends" who drank and did drugs and didn't even know they were pregnant and yet their children lived. And are still living and are smart and wonderful. Of course, me-- who planned and did it all by the books would have success. I've been successful at everything I put my mind (and soul) into before this, why not? We're in a committed, happy, loving marriage and all. DUH.
ReplyDeleteAnd then... bam. I turned into the girl who had a stillbirth at full term and a miscarriage 6 months later. No issue with IF here, but plenty of issues growing a child, that's clear. Oh, lucky us. Sometimes I feel like it's a big fat pity party I play for myself, but other times I really do feel like the most unlucky person to be in that very small margin of "error"-- gah.
I wish I could say "that must suck" instead of "I understand what you mean". I hate when I can't just be happy for the people I love, when that intense jealousy creeps in underneath it all and I think, "Why can't that be me?" Wishing you peace and things continuing to go "right" with Frosty.
ReplyDeleteI share your shift... and also feel that the old me is gone forever. You write so beautifully and so honestly xoxo
ReplyDeleteI so hear this. I used to think I had it all (I did). And now, it's the saddest conclusion to the happiest of stories, you know? And even though we have hope this pregnancy will work out and we'll get to experience being parents once again, I do wonder whether I'll ever be able to let go of feeling like everything isn't quite right...
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