Heavy Sighs & Heartaches
I don’t remember where I first saw this phrase, but I continue to find times where it’s extremely fitting. I keep it in my back pocket for when the world is just too much for me (which seems like ALL. THE. FREAKING. TIME. lately).
“My heart is heavy & my sigh too deep for words.”
I know, right?! This phrase is the perfect definition of fertility treatment. My heart feels constantly heavy. My sighs get deeper and deeper. I don’t know how to articulate WHAT I’m feeling. Hell, sometimes I don’t even know WHY I’m feeling it.
I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel like I’m at my wit’s end, but deep down, I know I’m not. I DO know that I hate feeling this way. I hate everything about fertility treatments. I hate the shots. I hate the side effects. I especially hate the heartbreak. And there is oh so much heartbreak.…
Looking back, I thought I struggled the most with our third failed IUI. Then our 4th one said “hold my beer”. It failed, too, and I have a been a complete MESS because of it. I’ve turned into a recluse. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to acknowledge it. I just want to eat ice cream and cry. I’m numb, yet my heart hurts SO much.
For years now, I’ve had these ideas of how I wanted to tell the people close to us that we’re pregnant. I had a plan on how to tell Kirk, a plan for our parents, and a plan for the besties. Fertility treatment straight up stole those ideas away from me. It just can’t happen the way I originally wanted anymore. It’s yet another negative side to infertility. #Ughhhh I have, however, come up with a few backup plans. I don’t love them as much as the original ideas, but they’ll do. I was so sure that our 4th IUI had worked, I purchased a few props for my new announcement idea. Only for them to be delivered the day after our negative preggers test. Not cute, Life. NOT cute. I knew what was in the box, but I couldn’t force myself to even open it. It’s since been tucked away in a closet with a few other props that I’ve had for a while. Maybe some day I’ll get to dust them off.
This wasn’t supposed to be our story. When we first started talking about kids, we wanted a big family. Then we decided we’d travel a bit first. Now we can’t even get one kid and we are literally running out of time. It’s so difficult to process all this. And even harder to not let hope sneak on in. But that’s all fertility treatment is anyway, right? A whole bunch of a science and a bit of hope. You keep going after each failed round because of hope. You muster through the heartache because of hope. You know in your soul that eventually it’ll work because of hope. But what do you do when you run out of hope? You take a break.
So, here we are. Hitting the pause button. Taking a break from the constant monitoring and shots and side effects and heartache. Kirk is adamant that it’s for MY mental & physical health, but honestly, I think it’s for HIS sanity, too. Bless his heart, y’all. He has been SUCH a trooper through all this. He walks on eggshells when needed, hugs me when we don’t know what else to do, & continues to remind me that we will be ok – regardless of the outcome.
We’re going to take some time to just be us again. I’ll still be on Letrozole (oral meds) so that I don’t feel like we’re completely wasting time, but we won’t do anything else for the time being. Once we’re ready to start again, we’ll move onto IVF. If I’m being honest, I’m scared shitless about it. IUIs are one thing, but IVF is an entirely different (& expensive AF) beast.
In the meantime, if you see me drinking a few beers – mind ya business. 😉
