Emotional Moments....

When you want to buy a specific car, you often start seeing this car EVERYWHERE on the road. The same phenomenon is true when trying to get pregnant. The more you want to be preggers, the more pregnant women there seem to be. It truly is cruel.

Facebook is evil. Yes, I am a recovering addict from it, but what makes it even more difficult these days is the bombardment of postings related to new pregnancies, births, and small children. It never seems to end. Every time I log on, it seems like more people are announcing their pregnancies and posting their first sonograms. When I was preggers last year, I was tempted to announce my pregnancy very early on Facebook. Luckily, I decided not to. That would have been a bit awkward to announce our miscarriage on social media. I'm now determined to wait until after the first trimester to announce any future pregnancies. Why risk it?

It is difficult for me not to get emotional now every time someone close to me or in my family announces they are pregnant. I do genuinely want to feel happy and excited for them, but then there is the part of me deep down that wonders what that can't be me. What have I done wrong to have such a hard time getting pregnant? Why does everyone else seem to have it easier? Why do I feel so alone here? The questions and self-pity never end.

We've going home to my husband's parents' house in Connecticut this weekend. I fully expect his mom to ask how our fertility journey is going and when she can expect her first grandchild. I also expect nothing less from his grandparents, whom I've never met in the 12 years we have been together (Strange, I know, but they never leave the state of Maine).

In a lot of ways, going through infertility is a lot like having cancer ... except for the fact that no one ever asks how you're doing. My friend made this analogy on Wednesday night at our Yoga for Fertility class, and I could not agree more. It's a disease that no one can see, witness, or ever truly understand unless you have been through it yourself. It's a disease that can easily take over your life and most to all of your free time. It's a disease with no easy cure or timeline. It's a disease that doesn't discriminate; it doesn't matter who you are, where you're from, or what backgrounds you have. It's a disease you never asked for and often feel trapped in. Most of all, it's a disease that can be heartbreakingly lonely, sad, and depressing. I wonder when my cure will be, if there is one...

Before going through infertility, I would often ask people when they planned to have kids. Now, I avoid the topic like the plague. Frankly, it is none of my business, and it's none of theirs either to ask us. And I CAN be OK with that. After all, if money, religion, and politics are seen as taboo topics in conversation, shouldn't pregnancy and fertility be added to the list? I certainly think so...