This weekend was a culmination of a whole lot of the stress in my life. I suppose the last few weeks were just the crescendo leading up to the main event. The bottom line is that decisions were made, and I’m at peace for the first time in a long time. Happy? Eh, not necessarily. But peace, yes.
I heard someone say once that the sign of a good decision is that all the parties involved end up equally unhappy. With that in mind, we’ve decided to take an indefinite break from treatment. Minimum three months, but more likely it will end up being 6- to 12-months. Or maybe a permanent break. Not sure yet. I’m staying on the metformin, and we’re not preventing, but we will not be moving forward with IUI or IVF in the foreseeable future. Manly is concerned about me and the amount of stress I’ve been under, and has been thinking about stopping for “a while now”. After the beginning of next year, I’m going to start looking for a new job, so we will take some time off after that for me to get my feet on the ground. At some point in the future, we will probably try again, but for now it’s just not in the cards. I believe that my exact words were that, “I reserve the right to change my mind and try again in the future.”
I’m not sure what I’m going to do with this blog. There’s no way I can continue to blog about TTC and treatments and maintain my sanity, but I’m not sure I’m comfortable moving on to assume the child-free mantle either. I have friends who are still trying and commitments to the community in general (game day, the braces bunch, being a clicker for Mel) so I’m not closing down shop, but please understand that the content will be different.
I don’t really know how to end this post. We all want to see infertile stories end up with happy endings wrapped around successful treatment or surprise pregnancies or loving adoptions, but the truth is that is doesn’t always work out that way. And when it doesn’t work out, it really, really sucks. All the guilt and the unhappiness and the anger doesn’t go away; it’s always going to be there.
Maybe this is the best way to end this: I became an aunt on Saturday morning. I got to hold my new niece just after she returned to her parents. She’s beautiful, she’s perfect, and I wish to God that I had one of my own just like her. But I don’t. And I don’t know if I ever will.