I’m in a place where I’m sad. I’m angry. I’m terrified.
This could be it. I may never be a mom the way I dreamt. I may never grow a baby inside of me. And ya know what? It sucks. It really freakin’ sucks.
I don’t know if another round is possible. Financially, emotionally, or physically. I don’t know if I can take it. My body feels used up. But even worse, I feel broken. My body is broken. It has betrayed me.
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to be processing all of this. I want to be left alone yet I don’t want to feel alone. It’s a weird place to be in because nothing is right. Nothing in my world is right or okay. Everyone else continues on and here I am, shattered and broken. And just when I start to rebuild for the 878th time, someone or something comes and kicks the pieces over.
We will meet with our doctor this coming Monday to discuss the previous round and possible next steps. There is a little bit of hope because we have a next step. But what happens when the next steps are gone? The fear of being done is overwhelming and unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
Two of my fellow infertile friends gave me a care package yesterday. That made me feel loved and thought of.
Several friends and family members continue to check on me and ask me what I need.
My parents continue to love and support me.
Joe put on a sweet song a few days ago and hugged me tight. He knew I had been holding a lot in so he gave me a safe place to let it out.
I’m so grateful for these people and so many more.
This journey feels like it is very close to ending. I don’t feel ready to mourn all the loss.
But I may not have a choice.
It’s hard when the fire keeps crawling up your sleeves
And it’s harder than you ever thought that it could ever be
And a light in the dark is all you wanna see
Fences – Andy Grammer