Another Month. Another Disappointment. Hello Infertility.

I’ve gotta say, this feeling of disappointment is getting more difficult with every month that passes. You would think I’d be used to this after three and a half years of negative pregnancy tests. But, sadly, that is not the case.

At this point, my heart literally breaks every time. And honestly, I am typing this while crying because I just was learned that this month is, again, not our month.

Another Month.

It’s a cycle . . . quite literally. Every 28-32 days, I am hit with a restroom visit that punches me in the gut. Even those months when we give ourselves a break and have unscheduled sex, I still hope to have a missed period. I may know that our timing was off, but I still lean towards the naive mentality that often gets other people pregnant. You know, the people who don’t pay attention to ovulation or their fertile window, yet still manage to get pregnant. Right now, I’m jealous of those people.

I know that an unplanned pregnancy is not ideal for anyone. And I know that some unplanned pregnancies are the result of horrible crimes. So, I’m obviously not talking about those types of situations.

Instead, I’m jealous of the loving couple who has been together for while and are overjoyed by a positive pregnancy test. I’m jealous of the married couples who get pregnant on their honeymoon night. And I’m even jealous of the older mom who gets a surprise baby just before menopause.

This may make me sound obtuse, but can you blame me?

Another Disappointment.

With every period comes so much disappointment. Disappointment in my body and my ability to overcome this infertility diagnosis. Each disappointment has me questioning if God wants there to be children in my future. You know what that is called? Spiritual distress. I can name it and I know how to address it, but it doesn’t make it easy.

My husband and I want a baby. Actually, we want multiple. We dream of the day that we can finally say, “We are pregnant!” That day, in my imagination, is filled with extreme bliss and extreme fear.

Because the truth is, even when that day comes (if it comes), I will live in fear of miscarriage, worsening endometriosis pain, and a high risk pregnancy that keeps me from being able to work. If I’ve learned anything throughout my endo journey, it’s that my body is very sensitive to pain and stress. So, there is a very real possibility that I will end up having a high-risk pregnancy.

Maybe I sound pessimistic; I promise this is not my usual m.o. But today, I am allowing myself to feel the reality of my situation. Infertility is HARD. And sometimes the most therapeutic thing you can do for yourself is allow yourself to cry and be upset.

This Too Shall Pass

One day this will pass, and I will be a mother. I know it. But today, I am disappointed. And that’s okay.

I am only human and so are you.