The amount of times I updated you on how our infertility struggles were going, the amount of times you asked, the amount of times I poured my heart out, because I thought you cared. I really thought you did.
You didn’t. You’ve made that quite clear. I was just gossip and a bit of drama for you.
I even mentioned how much pregnancy announcements hurt me to the point that usually I’m typing “Congratulations” as tears roll down my face, because I’d never want to deny or begrudge their happiness. Clearly, that didn’t matter to you.
I don’t think people realise how much infertility can destroy your soul. I literally feel like a broken person. It’s not as simple as I can’t have something I want, I’m not some 4 year old throwing a tantrum in a toy shop. Yet my feelings are similar to that. I could easily throw myself on the floor and kick my legs and cry so much that I’d vomit. Any day of the week. Try me.
What makes infertility worse is not only the time that is wasted on it, but the fertile/non-TTC people around you. They haven’t got a clue. I’d be a rich lady if I had a pound for every time one of my well-meaning friends has told me “Your time will come.”. I’m sorry, it’s just not as ground breaking or comforting as it sounds. My time has been and gone. It came and went. My time was the first cycle after I stopped the contraceptive pill. That was 25 months ago. I’ve gone from being 43 when my child is 20 to being nearly 46. That means something to me, that really hurts. That wasn’t my plan.
So what did the person do to me, who of which I mentioned in the first paragraph you ask? Well, little did I know whilst I was pouring my soul out to her, she was bumping along nicely, probably just found out that she was pregnant. Then there’s me, the absolute mug thinking “I’m sure she’d tell me if she was pregnant”. No, I don’t mean tell me when you’ve got the positive test in your hands, but maybe just an hour or so before you announce it to the world, so I can expect it. So it doesn’t hit me like a thousand knives to the gut. Instead, that’s exactly what it did. Silly old me. Just thought she’d have a bit more respect for me than that? Is it that much to ask that a friend respects me? Especially knowing what we are going through?
What’s worse is that whichever way I dress this up, I’m still the bitch. I’m not wanting to deny anyone their happiness at all. I also understand I wouldn’t be the first person they think of when they found out they were pregnant… but 3 months down the line (whilst talking to me in that time) would you not just have an ounce of common sense? Just a tiny bit of sensitivity for the girl you know going through infertility?
Try living in a world where you feel completely alone and isolated. That’s me. No one understands, so there’s no point in talking about it. It’s all I want to talk about, so I don’t talk at all. My silence is deafening but no one is listening.
Love & baby dust,