IF Dreams

I don’t usually remember what I dream.  There’s something about the alarm going off that shocks me awake, and I can’t hold on to the thought.  Last night though, I wasn’t sleeping well since I wasn’t home.  I kept waking up throughout the night, which apparently let me capture part of one of my dreams.  In my dream, I had started seriously dating a tennis player (have no idea where Manly was) (also, I don’t watch tennis, so I don’t know where the other guy came from).  What I remember most clearly was him saying to me, “I want to start a family with you!”  Even in my dreams, I replied, “I’m infertile.  You should know that up front.  We would have to do IUI or IVF.” 

It amazes me how deeply ingrained infertility has become in my perception of myself.  It’s kind of reached the point where it’s like having blue eyes or the birthmark on my leg.  It’s not a shock or a surprise anymore, it’s just who I am.  I still remember how, at the beginning, I couldn’t even use the word to describe my situation.  And now it’s wormed so deeply into my psyche that it shows up even in my dream-self.

I wonder sometimes what a shrink would make of my acceptance of my infertility.  I worry that I’m glossing over the pain, burying the grief and pretending to just move on.  But I spend a lot of time thinking about my situation, and the implications it has for my future.  I’m not shying away from the pain, and I still have bad days where I just want to curl up and cry for myself.  I just don’t know.  Everyone else in the blogworld seems to bemoan the loss of their child-rearing dreams, and it almost feels politically incorrect to say that I’m okay with it.  I can’t change the fact that my endocrine system won’t behave, and it almost feels like a waste of time and energy to be angry.  But I am angry.  Sometimes.  I’m rambling, I know, but that’s how it is to be in my head these days.  One minute, I’m celebrating the fact that I’ll never have to budget for college or sacrifice for private school.  The next, I’m so pissed off at the universe for giving children to undeserving parents that I can’t see straight.  Sometimes I feel elastic to changing my expectations for the future, while at others I feel brittle and ready to break the next time I see my BIL coo at my shiny new niece.  Is this what the healing process is like?  Will I ever reach the point where I go back to just being “Sharah” instead of “infertile Sharah”?

PS — my arm is surprisingly NOT purple today.  It still hurts like a bitch, though.


3 thoughts on “IF Dreams

  1. I actually just had a dream last night where I was trying to hide the fact I was doing fertility treatment from some other people living in the same large house as me. Probably could give some dream analysts a field day with that one!

    I think this process affects all of us differently, and there isn’t one “right” response. My feelings also seem to bounce all over the map. I hope you can take your moments of peace and enjoy them and gradually they will expand to fill and replace the brittle and angry ones. Probably never entirely, but I think it will get easier.

  2. I dream about our situation-A LOT-the dreams have different settings, and even though its a hidden meaning in some dreams, I wake up feeling drained.

    Glad to hear your arm is NOT purple–but sorry its still so sore=(

  3. I used to have those kinds of dreams when I was going through the worst of withdrawal from IF treatments. Once I started to “own” my infertility they mysteriously stopped.

    It’s a process to work through — easier for some, harder for others depending on where we’re coming from. Everything you’ve described here I’ve felt. I do often bemoan not having children because mostly I’ve got lost of unwinding to do from binding up the feelings I didn’t probably address a few years ago. I’m actually feeling quite okay these days, but at the same time I feel like I have work to do in making sure that other women/couples don’t have to go through the shame/denial experience, and getting my stuff out there and helping others helps me.

    You help too. You reinforce and validate. We need more childfree life after the shock/trauma of infertility diagnosis out there … it’s essential to proving we’re not one-off cases. Please keep on keeping on.

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