It’s a better day. It’s a better week. I wonder if my cycle has anything to do with my spirits concerning my infertility. Perhaps I just get moody before my period (like many other women), and the waiting, waiting, waiting just gets to me—not to mention the reality of the situation. Regardless, it’s nice to be in good spirits … and not depressed.
Yesterday our information packet from the infertility clinic came in the mail. I keep being reminded that this is not “mine,” but “ours.” You see, with this whole “thing,” I have forgotten/neglected my husband’s feelings and thoughts. I’m still in the mindset that it’s all me; it’s my situation. Information packet addressed to me (which it was); patient information to be filled out by me (but there’s an array of health information for him to fill out); I am the patient; it’s my appointment; I’m infertile; I’m on medication; “I just started my period. I’m not pregnant [insert sad face]”; and so on. But, he is in this with me. He is sad month after month; he is a piece to the puzzle; he does carry this burden. The last thing I want is for him to feel pain; and with that, he has assured me that—yes—he is sad about the situation, but not nearly as much as I am. This relieves me; I don’t know if it’s a marriage thing, but I don’t want him to suffer as much as I am. First of all, I love him and want him to be happy—always. Secondly, I need a foundation of reason and reality; good thing my baby daddy is a[n] [almost]lawyer. Professionals of the law can reason the heck out of anything. Nobutseriously—I need that optimism, that certainty. I’d like to call it faith—on my part—but I have to admit, sometimes I have little faith; sometimes I want “the numbers to turn out”; black or white; concrete certainty. Isn’t it funny—self—that you pick and choose certain truths from the Bible that are convenient, logical [to you], realistic [to you], etc? For instance, yesterday I was thinking about how it is, in fact, the year 2012. Some would say—believe—that this is the final year of the earth’s existence, etc. I’m not worried about where I will or won’t be on December 13, 2012. I’m certain I’ll probably be sitting right where I am now—at work. Why am I certain? Well—the Bible says so. Not only, but also—it just doesn’t make sense to me that the end of the world is near. It’s bogus, just like May twenty-somethingorother, 2011 was bogus. So … therefore … why do I have such little faith when God promises He’s still here; He knows my heart; He hears my prayers; He knows the desires of my heart; and [I believe] He wants this dream to come true for me. Why is it so hard for me to remain peaceful and content in those promises? Because, quite frankly, I do believe God wants me to have children. I don’t know why I’m going through this. Well, that’s not completely true, I suppose. Because—you see—there are some truths I’ve discovered about myself throughout this process. Uncomfortable truths. Allow me to explain: I am extremely controlling. Not controlling in the, “No husband, you can’t go out with the guys because—well—I have no reason as to why not, but I enjoy tugging at that string I have tied comfortably around your neck. That string called marriage.” I’m nice controlling—if I want something done, I do it my way and on my time. I depend on no one—literally, no one. I don’t trust a single person; I don’t depend on anyone. Sometimes, I struggle to depend and trust my husband’s word: “Are you sure we can spend all this money on me because I want a baby? I feel so guilty. I feel so selfish.” Uhhh … My husband wants a baby, too. My husband is going to do everything in his power, too. My husband is going to pray, also. My husband will fork out the cash to evaluate his sperm, happily. I am not inconveniencing my husband. This is not a situation where I can just deal with it myself, then hold resentment, then express my feelings a year later. This is a situation where I have to trust my husband—I have no other choice but to believe his word. Much of my concern is riding on that, but I have to know that I’m going to need people through this process. I’m going to have to depend on others to care about my situation—care because it’s their job.
Oh, did I mention life isn’t fair?
I’m stopping now.