I always feel the need to fix things, help the situation. So when circumstances leave you in these odd periods of stagnancy, it’s easy to feel defeated and disheartened. Especially regarding the whole infertility thing. So many of my compadres both here and elsewhere are cycling now. Not that it was pure enjoyment but I long to be taking shots and counting days. I miss daily appointments and blood draws because at least I felt proactive.
As bad as Christmas 2004 was, there was that shred of hope still alive inside me. The one that prayed and even dared to dream that by this Christmas things would be different. That by Christmas 2005 we could be celebrating a holiday in an extraordinary way.
It’s a time of year encompassing family, infants, birth, mothers and hope. I cannot seem to get any of those to touch me as they have in the past. My faith has crumbled and the solace I once found in midnight mass has been replaced by an hour of torture. When they carry the baby around the ceremony as a sign of Christ, I wince and close my eyes. The wonder of the service has been replaced by an overwhelming desire to sink to the floor and never get up. It seems that this time of year it’s more difficult to exist as an infertile. Christmas cards and visiting with acquaintances you haven’t seen bring reminders of what you don’t have. Shopping involves malls, where inherently, there are children. Some activities you participate in as a couple are arduous because you would love to do them with children. I fondly remember things from my childhood and sadly let go of the idea that I would pass on those traditions.
I’ve tried to put myself in lesser fortunate shoes by doing volunteer work that normally brings me such peace and thankfulness. But, to be perfectly honest, I can’t let myself imagine less fortunate situations. Ours is unfortunate enough for my taste.