I’ve written and rewritten this post at least a dozen times. Some days it’s very angry, others it’s sad, and yet others there’s no emotion at all. But one thing happens every time…I decide not to post it…sometimes for my own sake, sometimes for my husband’s sake, sometimes for your sake…until today.
I know this information won’t be news to all of you as I’ve become more vocal about it with each failed cycle, but at the same time I’ve kept it pretty quiet in my social media life. It’s a big part of why I haven’t been on the blog recently. How do you share something so painful with the world? Why would you share something so personal on a public platform?
Honestly, there are only so many months you can keep it all bottled up without exploding, which is exactly what I did tonight.
Maybe it’s the hormones. All the pills and shots (and I’m not talking to fun kind) have made me a bit of a lunatic, but today specifically, it’s likely also the anxiety of potentially failing…yet again. Somehow every time you get a negative test you feel like you’ve not only failed yourself, but also your spouse and his parents, your own parents and all your friends who’ve had their fingers crossed for you cycle after cycle.
I know I shouldn’t carry that burden on me. I know that failure is only a perceived failure, yet here I am carrying it every month, slowly bubbling up inside of me until that faithful day where I wake up, and pee on a stick or get my blood drawn, and get the bad news.
This was not the first post about infertility I expected to publish and now that it’s done I am once again doubting whether I should post it…but here’s why I will:
One in Eight.
One in eight couples struggle with infertility. One in eight women are sitting at home going through the same emotional cycles I am.
If we all stay silent, we’ll all feel alone. I’ll feel all alone….but we’re not alone.