While sitting in one of the many doctor's* waiting rooms that we'd sit in over the week, I read this really great quote from a fellow infertile who said, "All the disappointment, that I can live with. It's the hope that's gonna kill me." And I can't get it out of my head - she summed up something I'd been thinking for months and months and months, but wasn't able to verbalize.
Month after month I'd allow myself some hope, and then AF would come, and I'd kick myself for being so stupid. So so bloody stupid. How could I have possibly thought that pang in my boobs/side/stomach was different? Why on earth would I think this month was any different than the last gajillion months? What was I drinking that let me believe that maybe, just maybe, this stupid ride was over, we wouldn't have to do IVF, and we were being released from this hell? How could I have fallen victim yet again to the trickery my body and mother nature seem to be enjoying so much?
Month after month I'd hate myself for being SOOOO stupid. For letting myself have hope in a place where I'm not sure hope belongs anymore. Because as she said, I'm actually okay with the disappointment - to tell you the truth, I don't know that I even think about the disappointment? The disappointment's not the thing that sets all my emotions into a frenzy - it's the HOPE that sets me off as it gets throttled EACH and EVERY month. It's the HOPE that's killing me.
It's the hope that this stupid ride will FUCKING END. The hope that we can go back to having sex more because we WANT to than because we HAVE to. The hope that all these little moments I picture in our future (the moments that need 3 of us, not 2 of us) will actually be a part of our lives one day. And the hope that one day we'll fit into this elite club where people talk about bum creams and who walked first and how their kid is being quite "special" today (special = brat, but the kid can hear so she chooses this word wisely) - I want to come up with smart ways to say MY kid's a brat! When is it my turn to stop hoping for those kinds of moments? When is it my turn to actually have those kinds of moments?
The thing is, I'm not a stupid person (well, not unless I'm drunk and I leave the tap on all night, thus flooding my bathroom, AND the neighbour's bathroom below me...), but every month, this thing gets me. It takes hold of me, shakes all sense and logic out of me, and turns me into this bumbling hopeful idiot who thinks and says things like, "Oh my god, I have a headache on a day I don't normally, maybe I'm pregnant.", or "Maybe if I go buy the SUPERDUPER pack of tampons at Costco, and spend a whack of money, Murphy's Law will kick in and I won't need to use them.", or even, "Holy my lips are chapped, maybe that's a sign I'm pregnant cuz I never have chapped lips. And you know, my boobs hurting hasn't been a sign so maybe it's time to look at other body parts, right?". See? Nutjob. Or to be more succinct, the HOPE has turned me into a nutjob.
And while I always take forever to get to my point, when I said earlier that maybe this is a place where hope doesn't belong, it's because this month has been a real kicker to that point. This month, with the husband sick, we had no choice but to take a break. And this month, I have NO HOPE - none! And it's really been quite freeing. This month, when I've had boob pain, I've thought, oh well, it's boob pain, and moved on. When I've had headaches or been bloated, same thing - oh well! And last night, when the husband asked me over celebratory drinks (that he's better), "when's the next go time?" - I DIDN'T KNOW! And I didn't know because I didn't need to, because there's no hope to associate to what day it is so who cares. It's just Saturday.
*My husband came down with chicken pox last week, and I don't want to write about how scary it got as we're over the hump, he's getting better, and I need to not think about it as it just freaks me out again. But I gotta say, if you know any adults who get chicken pox, please push them to take it seriously - in adults it can lead to encephalitis, liver damage, and all sorts of other horrible things I was completely ignorant about until he started having those complications. He's better though, almost fine:-).
Sunday, June 3, 2007
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7 comments:
First off - glad you husband is better now. I'm sure whatever had happened was scary enough, without you having to type it out.
Secondly. Hope. Ah yes. The great humanality of it. Hope. It's why I personally start poas way too early to get a real answer - so I chisel away at that hope - day after day, so by that 14dpo bfn, I had little hope left and it just doesn't seem to hurt that bad anymore. But if I don't chisel away at a chunk everyday, that is when it gets nasty. Hope. eh.
Hope is a tricky thing. I want it, I crave it, I need it. Often, I have it. But hope also seems to make the hurts hurt more. I miscarried and had a D&C three weeks ago. The only thing keeping me going right now is hope, and lots of it. I'm so sorry that you have to go through this.
Wow, I am sorry to hear your husband was that sick. I'm so glad that he's getting better.
Yeah, hope. She's a bitch. And I'll tell you - even when you've given up hope on getting pregnant naturally (like me - shit, we can't even get PG by cheating with IVF!), each 2ww I still have hope. Until AF shows. And then I could just smack myself for being so damn hopeful.
*sigh*
Hugs. You just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, right?
Thank goodness your husband is feeling better. A family friend of ours got shingles (same virus, different mainfestation) when he was in his 40's and it was terrifying. I'm so happy for you both that he's doing well now.
And at least you know that you're not the only way to be seduced by hope. So many of us have done the same head-smack - what was I thinking?! Doesn't necessarily make it any easier to cope, but I prefer to know I'm not alone!
That's scary! I haven't had chicken pox but I remember getting vaccinated. Glad your husband is better.
I love that quote. Thanks for sharing. Hope is really tricky. We have to keep it on a leash.
You're not a nutjob (unless we all are.) What your saying rings so true to me, and I am sure most of us in IF blog-o-ville. It's the hope that causes the highs and lows of this silly rollercoster ride. It is the worst of all four letter words. Don't be too hard on yourself for being hopeful (easier said then done, I know!)
I'll probably start acupuncture next week. I'll let you know how it goes! I'm kind of excited about giving it a try.
Glad your husband is feeling better!
Oh I can so identify with you that hope is the killer emotion. I can do fine until someone gives me hope - or I give it to myself. And then of course, it all goes horribly wrong. Hoping for you that hubby recovers completely, that you do the deed on the right day, and that IVF is NOT in your future. All the best.
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