My Mom and I are really close. We talk almost every day. She knows all about my IF stuff and has been so supportive…calling me on monitoring days to hear how the appointment went, Googling studies and papers and sending me links, that kind of stuff. Most of the time I LOVE this support. My Mom is a good, good egg.
But sometimes, I just don’t want to talk about IF. It’s not really fair that I get to decide when to turn the switch on and off, and I know she can’t read my mind. So if she brings it up and I’m not in the mood, generally I will just say, “Eh, I don’t really want to talk about that today.” And that is that.
Yesterday was one of those days. I was in a pretty terrible mood. I was in the throes of an extremely frustrating and taking-much-too-long freelance assignment. I was hating my life. Annoyed that I keep accepting work outside of my 50-hour/week day job in order to keep us afloat as we sink more and more money into RE hooplah. Bummed that I wasn’t out enjoying my weekend and my life.
Unfortunately, my Mom called right as I was having a mini-meltdown of frustration/sadness/exhaustion/[insert any yucky emotion you can think of here]. She wanted to talk about my upcoming HSG (“nope, not in the mood!”), then she segued into a story about running into one of her neighbors at Costco. (I’ve known this neighbor since I was in kindergarten.) The neighbor was asking where all of my Mom’s kids were these days and whether she was a grandmother. My Mom said no, but that she knew hubs and I wanted to have kids soon. (She promises she didn’t say “a word about us having trouble.”) So the neighbor tells my Mom that I better get going STAT because it gets harder and harder to have kids every year. That she knows this because her own daughters started trying in their early thirties and it took them YEARS and lots invasive fertility treatments to get pregnant.
I kept trying to cut my Mom off. What part of this story did she think it would be good for me to hear? It just made me feel a) GUILTY that I waited until age 30 to discover I can’t get pregnant, b) SCARED that I will be living this nightmare for years and years like the neighbor’s poor daughters did, c) RESENTFUL that I’m not the uber-fertile like my Mom, who got knocked up five times and never once with a bit of difficulty (she loves to tell the story about how she got pregnant with me while on BC…gee, too bad I didn’t inherit those genes), d) ANNOYED at the thought of my Mom revealing private details of our journey…doesn’t it just seem WEIRD that the neighbor would suddenly begin gushing about her daughters’ infertility struggles at Costco???
Anyway. It was not cool. Tears suddenly began dropping down my cheeks and I got off the phone with her very abruptly. I have thought about it more since we talked and I know she had good intentions. To her, she was sharing a story of hope that IF treatments work. To me, it felt like a crushing reminder of how LONG this may take, and how much I regret waiting until hubs and I were both 110% ready for a baby to begin trying.
That regret manifests itself in so many painful ways…my aching heart, a lump in my throat, a nauseous stomach, insomnia, tears…I just want it to go the heck AWAY because there’s nothing, absolutely NOTHING, I can do about that now. Some days I feel pretty hopeful and okay, but other days (more than I’d like to admit) I feel like this depressed and bizarro version of the person I used to be. Pre-IF–Egg was way awesomer than current-Egg. 🙂 I feel more fragile, more scared, more sad to my core than I ever have, even more than I have in the toughest and darkest times of my life. And I’ve only done two cycles of treatment! GOOD LORD! It terrifies me…I don’t know if I’m strong enough to discover what else is waiting around the next corner.
I’ve decided it’s time to make this part of my life off limits: I don’t want to talk to my Mom about it. I don’t want to open up about it to any friends. I only want to talk about it with hubs and with you guys.