Yeah, still here…

…just quiet.

I’ve sat down several times in the last few weeks, but I just can’t think of anything that I feel I really need to say. 

So I’ll just say this.  The pain fades, eventually.  And you move from a place of searing grief, dazzling emotional highs and lows, and blinding anger to one where remembering your infertility is like remembering to take the trash out on Tuesday.  It doesn’t go away, but dealing with it is more a reflexive action trained by repetitive mental gymnastics. 

I’m currently waiting on a baby announcement.  My friend has been trying for two months now, and I’ve surrendered to the inevitable.  Every time I see her, my stomach clenches a little until I see her drink a beer.  I know it’s coming, and I try to prepare — I’ve gone so far as to practice an enthusiastic smile and a congratulations.  I don’t pretend that it won’t hurt — I know it will — but I also know I’ll get through it.  And at the end of nine months, I will add another “niece” or “nephew” to my fold.  I am Aunt Sharah.  I always will be. 

My one-year anniversary of walking away is next month.  Did you know that my busiest day ever was the day I posted about stopping?  Boggles the mind, it does.  It doesn’t seem like a year can have gone by this fast.

There are times when the house is quiet and I think of what might have been and I ache to my bones.  But those moments are fewer and farther between.  I don’t want to feel that pain, that longing.  When I bump up against it, I turn away, I deflect, I look for something else to do, to say, to think, to feel.  And because I make that choice, the wall around my heart grows stronger.

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9 thoughts on “Yeah, still here…

  1. Sharah –

    I am starting to feel much the same way.

    The one year anniversary of my last bfn is in about a week and a half. I feel the sting, but it is now so familiar that it is becoming like white noise.

    The other day I was surrounded by pregnant women, and while it made me somewhat uncomfortable, it was almost as if their condition was foreign to me, as if it somehow doesn’t apply to me anymore. And that feeling that pregnancy is nearly irrelevant must be due to the wall I have built, or due to some acceptance or resignation on my part, or maybe all of those things in combination.

    In fact, my anticipation of how I would feel was worse than how I felt when I saw them. But like you, I am realizing that I am now able to exercise some control over my reaction to the thoughts and feeling which arise.

    Thanks for posting – it was good to read what is going on with you.

  2. I can’t believe it has been a year already. I would have to say that having you as a friend is quite inspiring. Facing infertility takes strength without a doubt. However, loving and supporting your infertile girlfriends who are expecting, going to dinner with them, and enjoying yourself? Now that deserves soem sort of medal.

    You make a most glorious Aunt Sharah, but an even better friend. I’m lucky to have you.

  3. Was thinking about you this morning. You see, I’m really using my blogging sabbatical to think and not post or comment but I had to here. I think of you as my little sister after all. Has it really been a year? You’re right about the sensations you describe here…just sending some love your way.

  4. Wow, your post made me tear up. Everything you say resonates with me. It’s amazing sometimes how alone you feel in this journey, but there are more of us out there then I think we realize.

    We haven’t stopped trying yet, but I think we have stopped hoping. I am not sure which is worse.

    I am sending you hugs and a look of understanding for everything you are feeling…

  5. I’ve been reading your blog for awhile and in this post, I know exactly how you feel. When I go out with my girl friends that are ‘trying’ I pray that they all order a glass of wine. When they do, I can relax.

    Two days ago a close friend of mine, who knows about my 19 months of trying and failing to conceive, just announced that on their 2nd try, they are pregnant. I pretended to be happy and congratulate her. Upon which, I sobbed hysterically in my car for an hour.

    I wish this could all be easier to handle for the ones having to go through all these troubles…

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