I've been thinking a lot about my current life - working non-stop (I'm at work today, Saturday, filling in for a colleague who doesn't drive in freezing rain, whereas I, on the other hand, am like the mailman), never having time to do ANYTHING at my house except eat dinner and sleep, and all the while trying to implement this new diet regimen while out of the house.
It certainly is keeping me busy, and not constantly focused on infertility.
But is it fulfilling?
I like my jobs, but I don't like having no time to do anything else. And more than that, I don't like the fact that I think deep down, I'm keeping myself busy to avoid facing my fear that one day I'm going to wake up at 50 years old and realize I never lived the only dream I've ever had for my life. I never became a mother.
I'm so tired of whining about my infertility. I don't want it to be a source of depression anymore, but sometimes (like a week before my period's due, for example), I just can't help it. I feel completely defined and restricted by it.
I resent that while others walk around boasting their legal "choice" to become a parent or not in their time (while ironically, they already ARE parents when they make the choice to abort), they neglect to see that for 4 out of 10 couples, it is not a "choice" at all. I cannot choose when I become pregnant. I cannot choose IF I become pregnant. I cannot choose when I will adopt. I cannot choose IF I can adopt.
The fast-paced nature of my current life is at such odds with how I actually feel right now. I feel like my life is on hold, and has been on hold, for 5 years. It's like when you wind up a clock too much and it starts ticking really fast but the hand doesn't move from its locked place. That's me. A clock that's been wound up too much.
Next weekend DH and I were planning a ski trip in New Hampshire with some friends who have a cabin up there. We haven't been able to make it the past couple of years, but we were really looking forward to it this year.
My Dr is also going away this weekend, and it turns out one of her infertility patients needs an ultrasound series done, most likely over the weekend. I know what I have to do. I have to do the right thing, which is put myself in that girl's shoes and understand that at this point in her infertility journey, waiting another cycle for her ultrasound series may as well be waiting another year. I can't do that to her. I will likely have to miss the ski trip. Maybe I can pray she's a late (or early) ovulater.
Even when I try to escape my reality, and "enjoy" life without children, INFERTILITY always sneaks in to ruin it.
I dislike you strongly, infertility.