So, I meant to post something on 7th December. I started writing some, and then I stopped and somehow couldn’t continue with it. This has been a particularly difficult one to write, because – well, because it’s been too complicated to describe what I’ve been feeling!
Why 7th December, anyway? Because that day marked our fourth wedding anniversary. This year, I feel… many things. I’m feeling positive, negative, neutral – all at once. Is that even possible? Like I said, it’s complicated.
And why post today? I guess something had to happen to push me to pour out my thoughts and feelings, but more on that later. Let me attempt to be coherent.
Back to 7th December, it was a pretty good day mostly. We had taken the day off from work, grabbed lunch at Ikea, shopped for home stuff, and had a very good dinner at our favourite Japanese restaurant. It was a nice comfortable day, spending time together.
The day didn’t end too well, though. Obviously such a day is expected to end in bed. But, I couldn’t. I simply couldn’t. I retreated into my mind cave, and just stopped responding like a normal person would. And I couldn’t vocalise to the hubs what was wrong.
What was wrong? Well, that day was CD60 of the cycle with the second attempt with Clomid. It was obviously an anovulatory cycle, but not only that, an entirely screwed up one with no period in sight for days and days. So I was at a point where I thought I’d made peace with this whole no-baby thing, but I was at the same time really frustrated. And I just didn’t want to do it until the period came and gone. At that time, the thought of doing it was nothing close to love-making, but was something emotionally very painful.
And I couldn’t bring myself to say it to the hubs, because his response would only make me feel deeper guilt. So I simply shut myself off.
Fast forward to one week ago, I finally started bleeding at the end of 66-day cycle. Of course, up until then, with the delayed period, and bloated-ness, and tiredness, and BFNs, I still had a little strand of hope. Because Google shows you extraordinary stories that makes you think what if…
And, oh, I BLED. CD2, I could barely function at work with the cramps and flow, and almost had an accident (thought it was going to start flowing down my thighs…). CD3 (thank God, a Saturday), I stayed home because I needed to get to the bathroom every two hours. I thought it’d never stop! I couldn’t fathom how could there be so much in me. By CD3, my life resumed to normalcy.
I have one last round of Clomid, but I’ve decided not to take it. Clearly, it hasn’t helped me at all, and seemed to have made things worse. Looking back at my post-obgyn entry, I want to laugh. Laugh at my foolishness. OF COURSE, it wouldn’t work. Not for me.
What now? I don’t know. I’m still a messy ball of “complicated”. I’m really really really sad that we are still childless. And it’s beginning to feel like this will be so for some time. Yet I’m also grateful for the freedom we still possess.
I’m really sad that it feels like life hasn’t moved on for us, like we’re stuck in a two-person family limbo, while others have moved on. Other than one childless couple with whom we are close friends, others who might have struggled with fertility have indeed had their long-awaited children. I feel like I’ve somehow failed at life and at marriage.
Yet, as I reflected a few weeks ago too, I acknowledge that as a Christian, we have a hope far greater than any desires in this life – an eternal glorious life with God, where all the sufferings of this life will be a mere speck when we enter into His glory. I know I need to remember and hold steadfastly to this hope, even as I know I will forget sometimes…
So… What now? I still don’t know. Even with godly reminders and occasional moments of “making peace”, I still just as vulnerable to conversations about pregnancy, pregnancy announcements, even subtle/not-so-subtle hints of pregnancy… I’m constantly nervous to hear pregnancy announcements from other married couples. Even if I am in a relatively good place emotionally, these moments still come on to me like a blow to the stomach, a stab to the heart, a ripping of the soul. My younger cousin’s not-so-subtle hints through his social media posts. Bumping into an old friend with her 5-month old and talking about a possible gathering with the rest of the group (all already with their first child, except me). And the thing that prompted me to just let it all out here – tonight at a friends’ gathering, a pregnancy announcement.
It was apparently unexpected, unplanned, they “didn’t think it would happen so quick”. And right after that moment, there was a natural separation of guys to the games corner, and ladies to the chat corner, and I couldn’t escape from that. I have to say, I’m proud of myself for inwardly telling my heart and mind to get over it, stop trying to run away, look up and face it head on, be genuinely happy for something that is a good thing. It still hurt very deep inside, but I managed.
Am I really okay? I expect I’m going to have a delayed reaction. Even though I feel relatively neutral now, I know I will crash at some point. I feel like I’m constantly walking near the edge of a cliff. Somewhat okay, but give me a push, and over I will go. When that happens, I only hope that instead of falling to unspeakable depths, I will be able to climb back up again.