What About Me?

As I was standing in the check out line at the grocery store the other night the cashier noticed the couple in front of me with the newborn baby.  Of course the cashier began adoring the baby.  My mind was filled with all the bitter things that one infertile could think of.  Along with the "I fucking hate babies" thought.  But the second though that came into my head: "what about me?"  

You can't really tell how long a couple has been TTC by just looking at them.  They could have been TTC for a whole two months, or did IVF after five years.  I admit I automatically go with the first of those two options.  Odds are they couldn't tell you much about most fertility treatments.  The "what about me" question pops into my head when, even though I have no proof, I believe I have been waiting longer for my baby while someone else is getting attention for their newborn.  I think of not just the months we have been TTC for, but years.  I have "done my time" with fertility treatment and think of my past loss.  To be absolutely honest I'm envious.  I wish some cashier (or anyone) was looking at my baby and tell me how beautiful s/he was.  But they are not.  I fall off the radar.  I am non-existent because I'm not a mommy.

I deserve some good attention.  Not some depressing crap when people ask how my fertility treatment is going.  It's going just as crappy as the last time they asked.  But I'd love for someone to look at my big belly, or my newborn or child, and compliment it.  

One of the things that upsets me the most and I was never given a chance at being a mother.  We can think for great mothers out there.  But we can also all think of horrible ones ether from the news or those we actually know.  The women that doesn't deserve to be mothers, or can't take care of the children she already has.  I'm not saying I'm going to be the absolute best mum on the face of the planet, no one it that.  But I have to be better than some of those other examples.  Why is it when the stork comes around to give their baby handouts for the month I am always passed up?  And every other infertile women.  Honestly, we can't be that bad of a future mother.  We are never even given a chance at parenthood.  Not even one tiny bit of chance.  Or worst yet, we are given a chance the baby is taken away from us.  

We have a great home here.  The baby will have his or her own room with painted walls to match the gender.  There will be a new crib and everything else will be brand new.  The best products for 2012, and everything checked for safety.  The SUV we bought last year is awesome.  The yard is a decent size and fenced in.  The baby will have a college fund before even being born.  We are financially stable enough that I can stay home and take care of the child for the first five years of their life.  Fuck I think I almost described a yuppie.  But whatever, none of that seems to be good enough.

The feelings that go with infertility is so complex.  I honestly don't believe one could even understand the emotions unless they have been in the shoes.  There is no "fairness" or waiting your turn.  Sometimes it so hard to justify what is happening.  The only thing we can hold onto is the quote: "everything happens for a reason".  But after a couple years honestly, what is the fucking reason?

The Future

Many days I just want give up on fertility treatment.  Even if money was unlimited, I don't want to do another IUI, I don't want to do IVF, I don't ever want to see Clomid or any of it's fucking friends again, and I hate OPKs.  No more!  I just want to be left alone.  I don't want a newborn, I don't want a child, I like my sleep and freedom.  I want to spend all my money on myself, I want to take off without needing a babysitter.  I want to keep my current body with my non-sagging breasts, and kinda flat stomach.  

And there is my husband with his one fucking million sperm he left me.  I am still angry at that.  It seems like his count keeps getting lower and lower over time.  I asked him to take the CountBoost or FertilAid but he told me those had the some vitamins and such as his regular multivitamin that he already takes.  I never looked into whether that was true or not, nor do I know if he even takes those multivitamins on a daily basis like he should.  What about the occasional alcoholic drink he has?  Or his stressful job?  The last two IUIs were great on my end, one and two eggs.  My cervix isn't a problem since they bypass it with the IUI.  My right fallopian tube isn't a problem since I know at least one egg went down my left tube.  I am left feeling like I should be pointing fingers and you can take a good guess who at.  

Some days I say it's OK I don't have children, or at least anytime soon.  I told Bean years ago if we never have kids I'm getting my boobs picked back up once they begin to sag.  I think the surgery cost less than IVF.  I might even be able to get it done for free if I can convince my health insurance my real boobs cause me emotional pain.  Because it's not like infertility cause anyone emotional issues, ever.  No one gives a fuck about that.  But new plastic boobs, well can't have me crying and being self-conscious about the pair I have now, can we?

I fucking hate life.  

Source

And I don't think there is a God anymore, not that I was 100% sure to begin with.  There I said it, and offended a few people.  I didn't grow up with too much religion in my life.  But somewhere I got in my mind that if I pray enough everything things would be alright and whatever I needed would be given to me.  I did pray, many times.  I'm also done blowing out birthday candles, wishing on stars and throwing pennies into a fountain for the same wish.  I'm sick of answering the same thing each year when Bean asks me what I want as a gifts for holidays.  It's been years since I've asked for a gift other than "baby".  And yes, I equated blowing out candles to prayer.  If there is a God I'm pretty sure he despise me or something, and my feelings seems to be heading that way too.  It's going on three years, God hasn't answered my prayers yet.  Unless you want to count the time I did get PG and it was taken away soon after.  I'd honestly rather of never been pregnant to begin with than be pregnant for a month and lose the baby.  I loved my baby boy but there is pain even today.  I still don't make it a whole week without crying about it.  For Christmas this year I want a really expensive piece of electronics, not even sure what.  And for the birthday, just let me eat the cake.  Fuck you candles.  If I'm stuck on this miserable earth I might as well have fun.  God, we are done.  

Next up on the list of spontaneous and random ideas I have:  skydiving.

Sometimes I look at the last ultrasound photo I have of my baby and think of how beautiful he was.  You can't see his face, or arms or much of anything.  But for some strange reason I find that blob to be beautiful.  

-Selbe