I’m sitting here, writing this after I spent a half hour earlier today bawling my eyes out. Cursing anyone and everything, knowing that only one of the things was the true thing I was upset about. I may have found acceptance in our miscarriage, but I have yet to find acceptance in our struggle. In the struggle that thousands have to suffer through each and every year.
I know there are many people that are well beyond me. Well beyond our current struggle. People that have been deemed infertile with no chance of conceiving a child of their own. People that have lost multiple babies. People that have had their body and lives ripped to shreds from trying to conceive. So far, I’m one of the lucky ones.
But it’s still hard. Six months into a journey that I thought would have moved forward by now and no sign of change on the horizon. It stings. Each and every single day, I lose a little bit of the strong believer that I am. There was nothing that could have prepared me for the toll this would take on me. On Nathan. On our marriage. Nothing.
There are things I wish I would have known though. Even if I didn’t believe them, the fair warning would have been nice. You know – the things that no one tells you about trying to conceive. The dirty little secrets that you learn along the way.
No one tells you that it will ultimately be the death of your marriage as you knew it. Not to say that you’ll divorce, but the marriage that you had will cease to exist. You’ll talk about things you never talked about before, you’ll have fights about things that you’d never fight about before, and you’ll know things about the other person that you never knew before. It changes things, both good and bad.
No one tells you that feeling like a failure is something that you’ll understand on a whole different level. Especially after a miscarriage. There is no other word that can be used to describe the ache that I feel in my heart every single time I realize that this month is not the month I hoped it would be.
No one tells you that you will have so little control over the situation that you’ll feel like you’re crazy, even on the good days. That no matter what you do right, there is still so much that you have no control over and you’ll feel more helpless than you have ever felt.
No one tells you that peeing on a stick will be a highlight of your day. Or the easiest self-destruct button of a good day.
No one tells you that you’ll see your body in a whole different way. Certain body parts gain a new appreciation and aches/pains suddenly have more meaning. It’s like you were living in a vacuum before you started trying to conceive.
No one tells you how much you’ll change. Certain priorities won’t be a priority any longer and other things that you used to think hardly mattered will escalate to the top of your priority list. Your emotions shift and stretch far beyond what you thought they would. You’ll appreciate things on a different level and want to destroy other things that you used to celebrate. There’s a new range of emotions that fill your heart and you can never be prepared for it.
No one tells you that your life goes from 30 (give or take) days a month to two week increments. The first two weeks don’t feel that bad, but the last two feel like the kind of hell you’d never wish on your worst enemy.
No one tells you that jealousy is an emotion that comes very easily, quickly, and naturally to you.
No one tells you that you’ll never know how badly you wanted a child until you lose one. Or until the two lines never show. There’s nothing that will ever prove to you like these two options that this is the right move for you.
No one tells you that there’s a high probability that you won’t be the special one that beats the odds. That there’s a good chance you won’t get pregnant right away. And that there is a chance of a miscarriage. And that after the miscarriage, no matter how “easy” it was to get through physically, you won’t just end up pregnant right away after it’s all done. Even if you’re eating right, exercising, getting enough sleep, and have hardly any bad habits outside of an incurable need to binge watch TV.
No one tells you how clueless people really are when it comes to others trying to conceive. That things like “when will you two have kids?” or “you two will be such good parents!” hurt in a way that makes you want to punch someone. But instead, you realize you can be a better person. You realize that you should try to see their good intentions for what they are and not what they made you feel like.
No one tells you how lonely this feels, even knowing that there are thousands of women in this similar unfortunate state.
I know this list isn’t complete. I know that there are things that I will learn that I have no urge to learn and things others will experience that I will never know. That is the nature of this beast. But if you’re in a situation where you’re trying to conceive and it’s just not working – know you’re not alone. It won’t solve your problems, but it will ease the pain some days. It does for me.