Well, since nobody reads this blog, I thought I may as well make it a journal so that I can get rid of some of this emotional baggage I've been carrying around. I've been feeling so down lately. The past two years have been a tear-filled blur. Infertility treatments and drugs, two miscarriages, a diagnosis of premature ovarian failure, discovering that Daniel and I will never have our own baby...it's been rough. And watching everyone around me get pregnant, people that were married after Daniel and I were, people that already have two, three children, people who don't even want to have a baby, getting pregnant at the drop of a hat.
Nobody I talk to about my infertility seems to understand why I feel so sad. I get the most annoyingly rude and insensitive comments, like "This is all happening for a reason," or "you can always adopt" or "you can have one of my kids if you want" or "are you sure you can't get pregnant? You should try to relax!" or "just get drunk, and you'll get pregnant" (this is a comment I got from my phlebotomist when she was drawing blood the day I started miscarrying so that the doctor could check my hormone levels to see if I needed a D&C).
I'm so tired of this. I feel like I'm being punished, but I don't know what for. Adoption or an egg donor. These are our two options. And since IVF is never a sure thing and costs just as much as adoption, we are opting for adoption. I should be excited about adopting, shouldn't I? But how can I be when it takes twice as long as a pregnancy, is tens of thousands of dollars more expensive, and is ten times more invasive than buying a home, getting audited, or trying to get into the FBI. Example: Daniel and I spent $240 yesterday getting 24 signatures notarized for an adoption agency. And that was just for the contract! I have a feeling I'll be making good friends with the Iranian notary down the street from my house over the next two years.
I'm also so very tired of women saying that you never know anything about life until you've had your own child. Really? Really??? So does that mean that Mother Theresa, the Dalai Lama, Pope John Paul and possibly Jesus Christ didn't know jack-sh*t about life? Come on now, ladies. Please take your feet out of your mouths because I've had enough. That may be true for you, but when you say things like that to an infertile woman, it makes her want to blow her brains out with the closest gun in sight. Unfortunately, the closest gun in my sight is my husband's Nerf shotgun that shoots foam bullets with purple suction rings on the end. So don't say these silly things in front of me, or I will be forced to walk around with a Nerf bullet stuck to my forehead!
Anyway, for anyone who is interested, our garden is totally dead, except for tomatoes and canteloupe, since fall is here. We need to plant our winter stuff this week....
