I know I've shared a lot of angst on this blog. I'm totally okay with that. But I had a surprising experience a while ago at the other end of the emotional spectrum.
A friend of mine has three kids. She has never dealt with infertility issues, is never likely to have infertility issues, and probably knows only a couple of people who have infertility issues... me being one of them. She is quite sympathetic and wonderfully opinionated in favor of those dealing with infertility issues, which is why we talk about families, our ovaries and sex. She mentioned once that for her, sex at certain times of the month could never be as enjoyable as she would wish because there's always a worry in the back of her head of getting pregnant again.
That comment just exploded in me. For a split second, I lived what normal fertility was like... the luck of the genetic draw where the desire to get pregnant and actually getting pregnant involved one or two months of trying. Not a test or a procedure in sight. Oh, my; how easy!
The weird thing is that I actually felt sympathy for her. I didn't feel jealousy or anger or resentment at all. (Okay, yes, this is me writing!) I realized that the amazing emotional and physical intimacies I have with my husband are, in part, because of our dealing with infertility. It wasn't as though I felt as if I had been awarded something compensatory--I felt blessed for what I had. That doesn't mean I'm satisfied with the standstill I'm at; it just means I'm grateful for what turned out to be not so small a blessing.
No small wonder. I've had nearly seven years of secondary infertility. There were days I couldn't get away from it. There were days it didn't bother me and there were days I was angry at everything. Yet I was able to enjoy my son growing up with all the tenderness of a hopeful parent. I loved him. I cried with him. I laughed with him. I taught him. When he asked for a sibling so he wouldn't be so lonely, I had to hold my breaking heart in my ribcage... I couldn't hide my tears. I've never doubted once that my son is supposed to have a sibling. I cannot deny that surety in my heart. But I've doubted that it could happen. I've doubted finding something our insurance will pay for that will work with the other medical silliness inhabiting my body.
Plenty of reason for angst.
My reaction to my friend's comment surprised even me until I realized that there's not so much angst now. There hasn't been for some time. I think my blogmates are rubbing off on me.
3 comments:
Oh, what an awesome post Julie! Isn't that a wierd feeling to feel okay with things, or happy about things, when you've felt angry or sad for so long? It's literally like a weight that's been lifted off your shoulders. Doesn't it feel great?! Finally, peace in the midst of the hurricane.
That IS great! I'm so glad you had that experience.
*Possible TMI alert* Also, what your friend said, about worrying about getting pg at certain times of the month made me totally think about how Z and I talk about how sex is so no pressure now. During the pre-knowing-about-IF TTC stage...wow. I could get pretty bossy. And obsessive. Now...nothing charted...no ordering him into bed...just whatever. That IS a silver lining, in my book ;)
What a wonderful blog I came across. My husband and I are both LDS, and we've been struggling to conceive our first child for almost 2 years. I love the inspiration here.
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