When something in your life is really hard, how do you cope?
Do you distract yourself with projects and plans? Do you barricade yourself in a room with a pile of sweat pants and a TV?
Do you tell everyone you know about your heartache? Do you tell no one at all, maybe not even admitting it to yourself?
Personally, I do all the things. I reach for whatever works for me in that moment. I wear my heart on my sleeve, but then sometimes it's under a jacket. Complete denial that there's a problem is my usual first favorite coping mechanism. Complaining about it to my husband and texting a few close friends comes in second. Retail therapy is third. Bubbly wine is a given. Sometimes whatever my coping mechanism du jour is actually helps me cope, sometimes it just exacerbates what I'm feeling. But since I'm also a typer-thinker, things I would never think to share widely -- I feel compelled to process out in the open here. (Holla if you feel me, writer/bloggie friends).
Am I crazy?
I've been on a hiatus lately from this blog, just trying to make sense of my own life. My purpose. Call it an early mid-life crisis, but I've turned away from this sphere probably when I needed it the most. Is this part of being a grown up, too? All of a sudden looking around you and asking yourself -- how the hell did I get here? Is this what I want? I have a lot of life left to live.... what do I do to make the most of it?
OK, maybe it's just me.
Anyway.
At this point in my life, I always assumed that Tim and I would be getting around to having a family. The storyline was always a little fuzzy, but the broad strokes were clear for us -- wait until we were out of our 20s to allow time to build our marriage and our lives, then have a kid or two. Raise them up to be the most amazing people we know (c'mon, you think this, too). Kids weren't a goal, per se, but a blended part of the life experience we wanted to have.
When we started down this path, I can honestly say it felt like time. And like a fool, I thought things would just fall into place. That I could control this, too.
It's been two years. And whoa -- I'm learning a lot about what it means to have no control. And what it means to now question EVERYTHING you thought you wanted in your life.
I'm bringing this out in the open because it's a real experience. It's not social media picture pretty. And I've reached the point where I need to process it the way I know how.
Did you know that 1 in 8 women will struggle with infertility? When we first started our own personal struggle, it felt like 1 in 1,000,000. Because the minute you decide that you want to have a baby, there are BABIES BEING BORN EVERYWHERE. EVERYONE IS HAVING A BABY BUT YOU. You walk into the doctor's office to have yet another test to figure out what's wrong with you, and you walk by 7657657653 happily pregnant women. You get invited to alllllllll the baby showers. You find yourself stinging with allllllll the "kids-are-a-precious-gift" casual conversations. You get jealous. And mean.
That's totally how it feels.
Then you start seeing the specialists and opening up to a few people, and then you see the struggle everywhere. And how does that feel?
It feels like your own personal stakes just grew. Every infertile woman's success is your success, every failure is your failure. And it is such a boost and a weight on your heart.
So, here are the facts for us right now:
We have more than one obstacle impacting our ability to have a family.
My biological clock is running faster than most (I'm glad something about me likes to run fast? Ba-dum CHING), and we have a shorter amount of time to try to have a family.
We are seeing specialists to determine our path and then give it a shot. We've done the tests, we've called the insurance to see what we can afford (gulp) and we meet again with our doctor next week to make decisions.
I feel like this is a life game-changer. It's on my mind all the time.
And I feel like freaking talking about it.
Because people rarely do. And I think that's mostly because you don't want extra unsolicited advice or even MORE people in your life as anxious as you are to have a positive outcome to peeing on a stick.....
But I feel like..... if the outcome of this is a shift in the track I thought I was on in this life, I need the support and good vibes of the universe on my side for that.
In the meantime, it's the holidays again. And even though all my usual traditions feel a little more forced, Imma do 'em anyway and try to be grateful for everything we HAVE been blessed with. Because it helps take the edge off. (Thanks Real Simple for the protip... and thanks for reminding me that I'm getting old by taking your advice....#Iamthe30yearoldwomantargetaudience)
And now I better hit publish before I remember how crazy I am for just putting this out there......
Do you distract yourself with projects and plans? Do you barricade yourself in a room with a pile of sweat pants and a TV?
Do you tell everyone you know about your heartache? Do you tell no one at all, maybe not even admitting it to yourself?
Personally, I do all the things. I reach for whatever works for me in that moment. I wear my heart on my sleeve, but then sometimes it's under a jacket. Complete denial that there's a problem is my usual first favorite coping mechanism. Complaining about it to my husband and texting a few close friends comes in second. Retail therapy is third. Bubbly wine is a given. Sometimes whatever my coping mechanism du jour is actually helps me cope, sometimes it just exacerbates what I'm feeling. But since I'm also a typer-thinker, things I would never think to share widely -- I feel compelled to process out in the open here. (Holla if you feel me, writer/bloggie friends).
Am I crazy?
I've been on a hiatus lately from this blog, just trying to make sense of my own life. My purpose. Call it an early mid-life crisis, but I've turned away from this sphere probably when I needed it the most. Is this part of being a grown up, too? All of a sudden looking around you and asking yourself -- how the hell did I get here? Is this what I want? I have a lot of life left to live.... what do I do to make the most of it?
OK, maybe it's just me.
Anyway.
At this point in my life, I always assumed that Tim and I would be getting around to having a family. The storyline was always a little fuzzy, but the broad strokes were clear for us -- wait until we were out of our 20s to allow time to build our marriage and our lives, then have a kid or two. Raise them up to be the most amazing people we know (c'mon, you think this, too). Kids weren't a goal, per se, but a blended part of the life experience we wanted to have.
When we started down this path, I can honestly say it felt like time. And like a fool, I thought things would just fall into place. That I could control this, too.
It's been two years. And whoa -- I'm learning a lot about what it means to have no control. And what it means to now question EVERYTHING you thought you wanted in your life.
I'm bringing this out in the open because it's a real experience. It's not social media picture pretty. And I've reached the point where I need to process it the way I know how.
Did you know that 1 in 8 women will struggle with infertility? When we first started our own personal struggle, it felt like 1 in 1,000,000. Because the minute you decide that you want to have a baby, there are BABIES BEING BORN EVERYWHERE. EVERYONE IS HAVING A BABY BUT YOU. You walk into the doctor's office to have yet another test to figure out what's wrong with you, and you walk by 7657657653 happily pregnant women. You get invited to alllllllll the baby showers. You find yourself stinging with allllllll the "kids-are-a-precious-gift" casual conversations. You get jealous. And mean.
That's totally how it feels.
Then you start seeing the specialists and opening up to a few people, and then you see the struggle everywhere. And how does that feel?
It feels like your own personal stakes just grew. Every infertile woman's success is your success, every failure is your failure. And it is such a boost and a weight on your heart.
So, here are the facts for us right now:
We have more than one obstacle impacting our ability to have a family.
My biological clock is running faster than most (I'm glad something about me likes to run fast? Ba-dum CHING), and we have a shorter amount of time to try to have a family.
We are seeing specialists to determine our path and then give it a shot. We've done the tests, we've called the insurance to see what we can afford (gulp) and we meet again with our doctor next week to make decisions.
I feel like this is a life game-changer. It's on my mind all the time.
And I feel like freaking talking about it.
Because people rarely do. And I think that's mostly because you don't want extra unsolicited advice or even MORE people in your life as anxious as you are to have a positive outcome to peeing on a stick.....
But I feel like..... if the outcome of this is a shift in the track I thought I was on in this life, I need the support and good vibes of the universe on my side for that.
In the meantime, it's the holidays again. And even though all my usual traditions feel a little more forced, Imma do 'em anyway and try to be grateful for everything we HAVE been blessed with. Because it helps take the edge off. (Thanks Real Simple for the protip... and thanks for reminding me that I'm getting old by taking your advice....#Iamthe30yearoldwomantargetaudience)
And now I better hit publish before I remember how crazy I am for just putting this out there......
