It is 1 am on a Sunday evening as I am writing this and I can’t sleep. I am exhausted. I have to get up at 6 for work in the morning for 14 hours, all the time with a smile on my face. This is not the first sleepless night, and I know it will not be the last.
And I am tired. So tired.
Tired of Waiting.
Infertility seems to be a lifetime of waiting. Month after month, counting days of the cycle, planning sex and then waiting for the first day of the next one (period). Waiting for the 3 years needed to get free treatment on the NHS. Waiting for appointments, answers and for the day when I will pee on a stick and it will be good news.
This waiting is usually riddled with anxiety. The week before the appointment which would decide if I could qualify was the longest of my life. I even starved myself to make sure that my bmi would not be too high as I knew that could cause problems. My stomach is in constant knots of worry, fear and anxiety. There never is any release.
I am tired of being angry and jealous all the time.
I have irrational anger and resentment towards people with babies. In the street, going to the shops, I hate anyone with a stroller or carrying a small child. I hate the fact that when colleagues bring their newborns into work for a visit I have to smile at them and look happy for them. I hate my colleagues who are constantly making comments about what I am doing with my vagina; are you thinking about kids, you should start having kids you are not getting any younger!… Fuck you, fuck all of you.
Most of all I hate the rage that is inside me as it is not me at all. I have become someone who does not have kind thoughts, who has become inpatient and erratic, who always wants to either punch something or cry. And I hate it.
I am tired of my thoughts.
I see babies and pregnant people everywhere. It is amazing that when you are trying to get pregnant everyone around you starts procreating. You suddenly notice all the pictures of happy babies and pregnant people on Facebook and Twitter. You even start being angry at your favourite series, because one of the characters is pregnant (ruined The Big Bang Theory for me). I had never even given it a thought before my infertility!
I never stop thinking about my infertility. I hate myself for not being able to have children and I hate my broken body. But I also know that I need to be kind to myself and that others have a much worse time of it than me. I also know that I am lucky to have such a wonderful and supportive husband. I am in constant conflict with myself and it is exhausting to have to always think so much about everything.
I am tired of worrying about the future.
I constantly think of my future with infertility. What if it doesn’t work? What if we try for years and I become too old to be a parent? What if adopting is not the right decision for me? What if I am never a parent, will I die alone with no one to come and visit me in the nursing home? When will it finally happen? Will all my friends have become parents by then? Will I no longer have friends because I won’t be able to bear to see them? When can I stop being this person that I really don’t want to be?
I am tired of being unhappy.
I should be happy. I have a lovely flat which I bought, I have a gorgeous and amazing husband, I go on luscious holidays, I have a good job which pays well and I have recently been promoted. I have everything on paper that should make someone happy. And in a way I am, mostly because of my husband. But, I am not happy. I am miserable. I am someone who needs to control everything in her life and this one thing I cannot control is making me sad, anxious, angry, jealous, irrational and constantly on the verge of tears.
I think about all the other couples out there who are experiencing the curse of infertility and I am so impressed by everyone. This journey is an exceptionally hard thing to go through and you are all amazingly brave and wonderful people.
But mostly, I am just so tired.