My Secret Sorrow

This post is more of a therapeutic outlet for me to try & cope with something that has been eating away at me for the past several months to a year.

Through all the smiles and laughs, there has been one thing gnawing at the back of my mind.

infertility

Growing up, it was something I thought only happened to a very few people, and definitely not people I knew. Now, I know many people and it is a fear that seems to have entered our own marriage. I never wanted to accept it but it is something that won't go away. An ache that has entered my heart that is getting worse over time. How can you talk about something that is shaming and degrading to you? How could I tell my friends who are having children that their pictures on social media hurt? How could I tell people who ask "When are you having kids?" that their good natured comments sting? But, at the same time, how do you relate to women who have been struggling with this for years and know that ache more than you do? It makes me feel weak to think that my ache is unbearable when they have been dealing with that longer and mine is only a fraction of what they have had to bear. The longing to feel accepted and be told that everything is ok seems forever away because I feel weak and alone. I try and explain what I feel but it never comes out right. I pray to God to be heard and feel at peace. I attend church but see women who are pregnant or have several children who are thanking God for their blessings while the ache grows deeper. Any social gathering where young children are present is becoming harder and harder to attend but how do you tell people that the reason you don't want to go is because of the angel they are holding in their arms reminds you of what you long for and do not have? You try and tell yourself that it is only a short time and that you should not covet what others have. Then you remember wanting to be a mom for as long as you can remember. Picture yourself holding baby dolls and little siblings and cousins and imagining yourself all grown up holding your own children. A desire that is as old as your memories cannot easily be pushed aside. 

Sam & I have recently completed two years of marriage. They have been a wonderful two years and I am grateful for the time we have had together. Two years has also lead to an increase in questions from family and friends which is making it harder. So, to answer questions & try to cope with our struggles, I am writing this post. We have been trying to have kids for about a year now. We are planning on seeing a doctor soon after gathering a little more data/information so we can make informed decisions. Infertility seems to be a struggle on both sides of our family that is not seen in each family. This being said, I had never imagined having to struggle with something like this because I never noticed it. Now, I understand that it is something people around me suffered with but we didn't talk about it (because I was a child and it wasn't my business). Now, my eyes are being opened to this whole world of women & men who are struggling with infertility, and have been for years. The various treatments & diagnosis are as different as people, which makes sense when we as people are all different. The one thing that seems to be consistent is the pain. Every person experiences this strong awareness of a pain within them. For me, it happens every month when I realize that, once again, I am not pregnant. It's this feeling that there is something wrong with me or that I have done something wrong & God is punishing me. It's a hurt that is deeper than any pain I have ever experienced. It makes me question if I have any worth in this world. Will I ever be the mother I've wanted for as long as I can remember? Are people judging me as the "career type woman" because I am a teacher & not a stay-at-home mom? Will my husband still love me if we can't have our own children? Is adoption even an option because so many people want infants? These questions play through my brain each month and cause me to break down once I am safe in the confines of our home. I sit & cry for hours with Sam holding me & telling me it will be okay & that he loves me. And, as much as his words comfort me, the pain doesn't go away. It makes me want to keep away from the world, avoid family gatherings, avoid meetings with friends that have new little babies, avoid any social networking site because of the baby announcements & pictures, as happy as I am for those who have been blessed with a child. It's a sorrow that I am afraid will surface on top of the joy for those friends & family.

I hope this helps someone understand a glimpse into the struggle many people have been struggling with for many years and also understand why I may keep my distance from certain occasions. It's not that I'm mad. I just don't want to lose my brave face at your happy occasion as we try to find answers and, hopefully one day, have our own family.