When Mike and I first started getting tested after a year of trying, we were fairly private about it. Both of us were embarrassed, or ashamed that we needed help to do something that even teenagers can manage without really trying. We had no idea what to expect, we over googled every symptom and were constantly scratching our heads in confusion. Getting pregnant with Lucy was a miracle - a baffling miracle that to this day we don't understand what worked.
Now that I know what to expect, I'm bloody terrified. My first test infertility related was an HSG. Guys - full disclosure, I hadn't even ever had a pap smear before. Traumatizing? Yup. Ultimately, the test wasn't even conclusive. I used to be terrified of getting blood drawn. It made me feel sick to watch the blood leave my body through a tiny needle while the nurse created a large stack of viles for different tests. Now? I'm apathetic about it. It's not pleasant but it has to get done.
In the past month Mike got a teaching job in a small northern Alberta town and we decided to take the plunge and move. Just as we were about to start the testing process with our new specialist in Edmonton, we had to uproot everything and ultimately decided to take a short break from TTC baby #2. Meanwhile, life, as it should, has continued propelling forward for everyone.
I'm going to share something that I've struggled to piece together myself. I've been afraid of what people may think of me, or how it may look from the outside looking in. I've talked to my therapist several times about this (yes, I have a therapist) and as I've tried to find meaning in the heartbreak of infertility and its causes in my life I feel as though I have to share.
Finding out you're expecting a baby is probably one of the most exciting and life-changing events ever. Suddenly how you see your future includes another person who you're actually growing (women are amazing). Your life stops being about you and starts being about this precious baby. When Mike and I found out we were finally expecting a baby, we were overjoyed. There was hysterical laughter, crying, prayer and then an instant worry about her well-being all in one. We immediately started to think of ways to share with our friends and family the amazing news. We made a video and took a picture of a positive test with children's books I'd been collecting and scrabble tiles. It was so exciting to share. Our announcement, however well intended and planned out, was probably like a knife to the heart of those stuck in an endless loop of TTC, thanks to infertility.
Let me explain.
The moment Mike and I decided to take a break from trying while we moved and got settled, there were 10 pregnancy announcements just among my circle of social media friends. Some of them I know have been battling infertility and hearing the news genuinely made me feel relief for them and joy. Some of them were very recently married and were able to conceive before even learning about what infertility feels like. Don't get me wrong - I wouldn't wish infertility on my enemies.
I spent the first week that Mike was in High Prairie cooped up in my room. While Lucy napped, I wept. I cried over all the negative pregnancy tests accumulated this year, my infertility diagnoses and the unfairness of it all. When I see a pregnancy announcement - I'm so incredibly happy for the couple. I am also heartbroken, jealous and tired of waiting for the day that we can announce another pregnancy. It is possible to feel all those things at once. To quote Hermione Granger, I do not have the emotional capacity of a teaspoon.
Waiting is a sharp companion to infertility that creates deep wounds to the soul. So deep, that they are difficult to articulate and demonstrate to those who have never fallen into its grasp. When you see others get what you've been waiting so desperately for, seemingly immediately those wounds get ripped open over and over again.
To all the couples out there who may have seen a pregnancy announcement right after getting bad news from your specialist - I am so sorry. I understand the two-sided emotional coin you're trying to comprehend and feel. It's okay to feel both negative and positive emotions at the same time. It's okay to cry. Just remember that you're not alone and you are so loved.
To the mom-in-waiting who just got a negative pregnancy test after your best friend confided that she was expecting - I understand. It's okay to cry and question why this is happening to you and be overjoyed for your best friend who recently had a miscarriage and is finally expecting her rainbow baby. You're not alone. Remember that it's okay to feel sad and happy at the same time.
For a while, I found myself getting caught in an endless feedback loop where I would be devasted with jealousy, angry and sad. I couldn't stop questioning why me, or why them. Recently, I've tried to remember that I don't what the couple had to go through to get a positive pregnancy test. Have they been trying for years? I don't know. Have they had miscarriages? I don't know. You never know and it's important to keep that in mind.
It's still okay to feel happy and sad about a pregnancy announcement.
So, if I don't like your announcement on facebook and instagram, know that it's not because I'm not so happy for you and so in love with your growing family. I am. I am thrilled and heartbroken. If you have a best friend or family member who doesn't like or comment, know that it is not because they are angry with you or unhappy for you.
We are impatiently waiting, sad and happy.
In the past month Mike got a teaching job in a small northern Alberta town and we decided to take the plunge and move. Just as we were about to start the testing process with our new specialist in Edmonton, we had to uproot everything and ultimately decided to take a short break from TTC baby #2. Meanwhile, life, as it should, has continued propelling forward for everyone.
I'm going to share something that I've struggled to piece together myself. I've been afraid of what people may think of me, or how it may look from the outside looking in. I've talked to my therapist several times about this (yes, I have a therapist) and as I've tried to find meaning in the heartbreak of infertility and its causes in my life I feel as though I have to share.
Let me explain.
The moment Mike and I decided to take a break from trying while we moved and got settled, there were 10 pregnancy announcements just among my circle of social media friends. Some of them I know have been battling infertility and hearing the news genuinely made me feel relief for them and joy. Some of them were very recently married and were able to conceive before even learning about what infertility feels like. Don't get me wrong - I wouldn't wish infertility on my enemies.
I spent the first week that Mike was in High Prairie cooped up in my room. While Lucy napped, I wept. I cried over all the negative pregnancy tests accumulated this year, my infertility diagnoses and the unfairness of it all. When I see a pregnancy announcement - I'm so incredibly happy for the couple. I am also heartbroken, jealous and tired of waiting for the day that we can announce another pregnancy. It is possible to feel all those things at once. To quote Hermione Granger, I do not have the emotional capacity of a teaspoon.
Waiting is a sharp companion to infertility that creates deep wounds to the soul. So deep, that they are difficult to articulate and demonstrate to those who have never fallen into its grasp. When you see others get what you've been waiting so desperately for, seemingly immediately those wounds get ripped open over and over again.
To all the couples out there who may have seen a pregnancy announcement right after getting bad news from your specialist - I am so sorry. I understand the two-sided emotional coin you're trying to comprehend and feel. It's okay to feel both negative and positive emotions at the same time. It's okay to cry. Just remember that you're not alone and you are so loved.
To the mom-in-waiting who just got a negative pregnancy test after your best friend confided that she was expecting - I understand. It's okay to cry and question why this is happening to you and be overjoyed for your best friend who recently had a miscarriage and is finally expecting her rainbow baby. You're not alone. Remember that it's okay to feel sad and happy at the same time.
For a while, I found myself getting caught in an endless feedback loop where I would be devasted with jealousy, angry and sad. I couldn't stop questioning why me, or why them. Recently, I've tried to remember that I don't what the couple had to go through to get a positive pregnancy test. Have they been trying for years? I don't know. Have they had miscarriages? I don't know. You never know and it's important to keep that in mind.
It's still okay to feel happy and sad about a pregnancy announcement.
So, if I don't like your announcement on facebook and instagram, know that it's not because I'm not so happy for you and so in love with your growing family. I am. I am thrilled and heartbroken. If you have a best friend or family member who doesn't like or comment, know that it is not because they are angry with you or unhappy for you.
We are impatiently waiting, sad and happy.
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