Sunday, January 24, 2010


Thanks for all the comforting words from my last post. I am trying to process, continually. I am now investing nearly as much time as I do on infertility thoughts on researching and reading about ways to help my Dad. It's an exhausting job. I just never thought that the only diapers I would change would be my father's. It's a mad, mad world.

And for the record, I hope I didn't sound like I was saying I had it worse than anyone else. I do look around me and from my vantage point is sure seems like a lot of folks have it easier than me, but then again, you never know what others might be dealing with, so who really knows. And accepting that life is just unfair--yes, I know this intellectually. I think we all do. But for me, it doesn't really take away the sting.

So now I'm sitting here just wondering when?

When will a pregnancy announcement not take me to my knees? I returned home from a fairly good day (although how is it that I forgot that fertiles would be a Mr. LC's show this morning? ha ha, I'm kidding here) and had an email from an old high school friend. The one who, three years ago emailed me to ask me to tell her "everything I knew" about fertility because she just knew she'd have trouble. Yeah, well, her 'trouble' amounted to an uneventful pregnancy three months after trying. So we don't talk often, and she just wrote to check in and casually slipped in that baby girl number two is due in March.

So when does that not hurt? When does it not set me back two or three (or one thousand) paces in this process of healing and trying to move forward? When? WHEN WHEN WHEN?? Why does it bother me that of every.single.friend I had in high school I am the only one with any fertility issues at all? I don't know why that bugs me so much but it does. Misery loves company I guess. If I hadn't found the blogosphere and online support groups I would have never known another soul with infertility. I would have been more alienated than I already feel.

When will a casual email about an upcoming baby shower for the 'oops baby' of a member of our Sunday School class NOT make my heart hurt?


It's not that I didn't know about this pregnancy. I've been watching that belly get bigger and bigger every single week.

But see, I was supposed to be the one to get the next shower. Who didn't get the damned memo?

When will that not hurt?

When will having a job, a husband with a good job, nice friends, a nice home, meaningful volunteer work--when will that be enough?

When will I not have a gaping hole in my heart?

It's a rhetorical question, by the way. I don't want to hear someone tell me that when I open my heart to other ideas all this pain will go away because frankly, I am not so sure I believe that anymore.

Oh well, what are you gonna do?


  1. ((HUGS)) I remember feeling so guilty that my husband and our life was not enough - it was agonizing.

    My heart is aching for you on so many levels.

  2. I don't know, to answer your question. I'm just waiting, just waiting, for whatever comes next. In the meanwhile, when the sadness comes, I have to be with it. When the anger comes, I have to be with it. Because that is my life right now. I don't know what is coming next. It still takes me by surprise, the depth of my feelings with all this grief.

  3. i have a feeling that it will never stop hurting. i don't feel like it ever could for me. like, never.

    im glad for the internet too. it has been so lonely all these years as you said watching everyone else live out my dream. im so glad that there are people who understand. as one of those people im not going to kid you and say oh, it will get so much better! i think we just have to take it on the chin and move on. im so uplifting...sorry :(

  4. i know it's rhetorical, but i'm guessing the answer is never. sadly, i don't know how it could be otherwise. hugs to you though!

  5. Every bit of it is unfair and cruel, and I wish I could fix any part of that so that it didn't seem so sh*tty. :(
    It's like when you hit rock bottom, someone breaks out a jackhammer and just keeps digging deeper holes for you.
    I'm so sorry things are so amazingly sucky right now.

  6. It's okay that it's not enough. You can totally fully appreciate everything you do have and it's still completely valid to feel that it isn't fulfilling what is a basic desire in life. Infertility sucks enough as it is, there is no reason to let guilt get in there and multiply things.

    That "not enough" is what will keep you going. I have absolutely no idea how your story will resolve, but there is not a doubt in my mind that you and the Mr. will have your family someday. That is based only on the fact that it's so obviously something that is fundamental to your existence.

    In some ways, your feelings are all you have to guide you. And in that light you are doing remarkably well, so appreciative of all of the good things you have but still incredibly honest about your sadness. I'm just sorry it has to be so hard.

  7. I don't know the answer to that question. IF would be a tiny bit more bearable if someone could tell you the answer to that question - exactly how much pain and suffering you'd have to go through - like if they said it would be a 5 year quest and you'd have to spend $x and do x # of treatments. Or if someone could tell you which path to take.

    I too am glad to have found the online support of so many as many of my friends IRL can't comprehend what it is like to battle IF. It is very alienating and I'm glad that we can provide comfort to you. We may not have the answers but we can certainly tell you that you're not crazy for feeling the way you do.

    Regarding your Dad, I can't remember if I ever recommended this book to you but it's called "My Stroke of Insight" by Jill Bolte Taylor. She herself is a neurologist and she suffered a stroke herself and it describes from the stroke victim's point of view what it was like to rebuild and relearn everything and the impact on her family. I'm not sure that it would help but just in case it may.

  8. I don't think the pain will ever go away, to be honest. You may gain more control over it, other things in life may close the hole in your heart a little, but I think the pain of infertility you will always carry with you to the end. Not what you wanted to hear, I am sure. Between J's parents and other older parents/patients that I have talked to- the hurt is still there, the feeling of having missed out is still there, the longing (even when it is physically impossible due to age) is still there. Not to say your life won't be filled with other wonderful things- it WILL- but that pain is not erasable. That's one of the things that I think people don't realize about IF. It just doesn't magically go away 100%.

    With your dad...I hold out hope that being at home he'll get better. It won't be a magic cure, but maybe slowly his old habits and passions will come back and that will help with the sadness and encourage his PT/cognition progress. Is it weird that I still can't believe it happened to him? A marathon runner? I still shake my head in disbelief.

  9. Dude. I have had some comments on my blogs like the one at the end of your post. That somehow you can magically just BE happy if you allow yourself to be. Those people must lead very special lives! Lucky them! I wish I could say something to help and/or make it better. Even just a little bit. But I can't. In fact, I don't even know if trying would just make it worse. But FWIW, I'm here reading and caring.

  10. All I want to do is let out a bunch of f-bombs and scream with you. I often wish for just a "break" away from thinking of/dealing with the everyday of IF...just a week to not feel the little pangs from TV commercials/shows, baby bumps, asking for another table at a restaurant because there are too many kids nearby the one they want to seat you at, avoiding the end of the mall with the carousel, etc...just that chance to go back and be a "normal" person/friend who squeals with glee over a friend's pregnancy announcement or is the one heading up the planning of their baby shower. I miss that "me", but I know she is long gone...and it sucks.

    This stuff will always be with us. Right now your wound is gaping open and everything hurts beyond measure. I think even as time goes on and that wound scabs/scars over we will still feel the hurt. It may be a little less "front and center", but it will always be a part of us.

    I am heartbroken hearing about your dad. I am hoping/wishing/praying that once he gets settled in a bit more at home that he will begin to heal in every way possible.

    Sitting with you, listening, and holding your hand from afar. I'm really sorry it sucks so much right now.

  11. Man, I just wrote a comment that I accidently deleted, but you know it was probably just as well since it was just more rambling about how UNFAIR life is. I don't know when it will get easier but I hope that us coming here and cheering you on helps one teeny tiny bit, because I think we all think you are awesome.

  12. argh..when?? who knows.. the only certainty is there are a whole lot of people who want to walk with you and support you until you get to your safe place and reach your dream. -sure wish that was enough to cure the pain.
    hugs, s

  13. Dear Mrs LC, am still reeling that you have not yet had your happy ending as so many others have had. And your Dad just breaks my heart. There is so much of a disconnect between what should be happening for you and what is happening. I do continue to believe that the tide will turn. I also feel that this pain will never leave you completely but that when the light comes you will experience it with even more clarity because you know what it's like in the dark. Am hoping that it lifts SOON for you and your lovely Mr LC xxx

  14. It's times like these a crystal ball might seem nice. I do hope a light will illuminate for you at the end of this dark tunnel.

    Hugs to your dad too - my heart breaks for him.

  15. I don't know "when", but I do know that I will be here listening and supporting you no matter what. ((HUGS)) across the miles.

  16. I echo what B said. Once year heart has been broken, it never forgets and the scar will ache, sometimes more than other times. One day, to the outside world, you and Mr. LC will have "moved on," but that outside world that doesn't know IF never will never understand the hurt. It's not really "When" but "How." How to keep your heart strong each day in the face of everything. Focus on the "How" for now.

  17. I don't think the pain will ever go away. I know this sounds pessimistic, but I believe it to be the truth. Currently, you're being robbed of one of life's most precious experiences (pregnancy/starting a family). How can someone who aches for these things ever be "ok" with that?

    There are some days when it's just too much. I start to REALLY think about the reality of it all. I only have this one life to live. And in this one life, I will never know pregnancy. I will never know birth. I may never know my own biological children. I may never know a family with my husband. --- It's a shitty, shitty rat-infested rabbit hole to tumble down.

    You've already mastered the art of keeping your pain hidden from others. That's more than some ever accomplish. You still have Lee. You still have your dear pets and your charity work and your hobbies. At least there are these rays of sunshine to keep you just warm enough so as to prevent a fatal case of hypothermia.

    I believe there is warmth at the end of your journey. Sure, it may not be the same kind of warmth you originally imagined at the 5-star resort in the Caribbean with vivid blue oceans and crystal white sands, but there will be warmth. And until you find your way, you'll have us to vent to (hell, we'll be here even AFTER you find your way!). =)

    ALWAYS thinking of you, my friend!

  18. IMHO, I don't think the pain will ever go away. IF leaves its mark, as least it did for me. Even today, I still get that jealousy, sinking feeling whenever a fertile-myrtle announces their good news. I wish that I could tell you differently, but I can't. :(