This was an article I came across today that resonated so much with me. It is something I have continued to struggle with and do every single day.
This really highlights how it feels:
The agony of infertility runs so deep that I feel irrevocably changed by the experience — so much so that having a baby now almost feels beside the point. How will I ever heal? How will we ever be OK with the hows and whys and buts of it all? My heart feels mashed inside my chest. Could a baby really put it back together again?
And I have learned from experience that the answer is no. Having M brought me a lot of joy, but it was a separate joy. It wasn’t one that automatically erased all that had happened because it had been “resolved.”
It can never be resolved. The pain leaves a profound impact on you, and there is no cure. I can’t just have a baby no matter how much I want one, no matter how hard I try.
I haven’t entirely put this out there yet, in so many words, but we have been hoping to have another baby. I’ve had two more miscarriages since this began, including one where I was maxed out on Clomid. I’m on Femara right now, which I’ve never tried before but it’s expensive and possibly the last option. Doing IVF again isn’t an option (unless maybe it were magically free).
And so here I am feeling crazy for trying, for hoping maybe this time everything will work out, but it’s not going well. Sometimes I wonder why I should expect a different result? I don’t know how I can ever come to terms with it. It’s the most maddening, heartbreaking position to be in, and I know that it’s very likely at some point soon I’ll have to try to accept giving up and moving on.