Halloween is one of my favorite holidays…this year I hid from it. To the best of my ability I avoided children in costumes. And I did a really damn good job of it too. I even avoided going into the mall when NewsBoy and I were shopping just so I wouldn’t have to walk past kids in princess and pirate costumes. I literally stopped in my tracks when I saw kids and did an about face. (Much to NewsBoy’s confusion and dismay.) And, who’d have thought I’d say this but, thanks to a cold we didn’t go anywhere that evening. So it’s like Halloween never happened, right?
I’ve become a bitter and angry woman. I’ve taken to avoiding things and people that will remind me of the fact that I don’t have a child. I’m thinking about skipping out on Thanksgiving (where there will be plenty of discussion and excitement of my SIL’s pregnancy) and would certainly have developed a “migraine” for a friends son’s 1st birthday party if IvoryGirl wasn’t going to be there. I get angry when people who have children complain about their child’s behavior. Nearly every one of my friends with young children complained on Facebook about the time change because their kids got up early due to Daylight Savings. I would kill to have a child that could wake me up early for any reason.
In short…I’ve become everything I hate…everything I never wanted to become.
That’s what infertility has done to me. These are the things that infertility takes. It takes the fun out of everything. It takes the joy out of the celebrations for the people you love. It takes you from your ability to enjoy your life and the company of your loved ones. I want to be happy and excited that my friend’s kids are having birthdays and are potty trained and are sleeping through the night and are going to pre-school. I want to be happy and excited that my brother is going to have a baby, that I will have another niece or nephew. But I can’t. All I have is this overwhelming sadness that follows me where ever I go. It permeates every thought I have and every decision I make. There is a gaping hole…an emptiness that is persistent and that emptiness is overwhelming. Because while the sadness of negative Betas do diminish with time, that abyss that tells you there is something missing just gets bigger and bigger with each test result. Every pregnancy announcement…every birth…every birthday party…every milestone… every adorable picture just enlarge the chasm of nothingness that infertility leaves in its wake.
I have a good friend that I’ve known since High School. We’ve drifted apart over the years but we keep in touch. This is the one friend that was always my measuring stick when it came to bitterness because of my infertility. She’s one of those women who went to college intending to find a husband and didn’t even come close. When NewsBoy and I got engaged she said “What do you need to get married for? You don’t want kids.” When we would get drunk she’d break down in tears because she’s single and will never be a Mom. When we turned 25 she was convinced she was too old to be a mother. Everything about her was about her becoming a mother. It’s all she has ever wanted. She never really wanted a husband…just kids. But every time we would hear about someone getting married or someone having a child. She would get upset, angry and eventually bitter about it. On the scale of bitterness I have become her. While I didn’t understand that desperate need then, I most certainly do now. And it’s the realization that I have become this bitter, angry, childless woman that makes that abyss even larger and more prevalent.
I want to find a way back to the happy person I was before the abyss that is infertility infected every aspect of my life. I just don’t know how to get there.