Processing Through Writing

Day twelve thousand and forty two of my cold.  Or so it seems.  There is still snot.  There is still a cough, although I have finally graduated to sleeping through the night without waking up in a hacking/coughing fit so at least I wake up feeling more rested.  Also, I had the bright idea to NOT wrap my ankle today and THAT was a mistake and a half.  It is still throb-y and achy and more so without the support of the ace bandage.  Who knew?

I called Bob from work yesterday to give him the results of his semen analysis.  He was quiet as I read his results and after I told him that he could see the clinic urologist who specialized in infertility in men.  I asked him what he was thinking.  He asked me if I wanted him to see the clinic urologist.  I said I did, didn’t he?  He said he did not but that he knew he was being selfish about it.  I asked him why he didn’t want to see the urologist and he said he didn’t want to wank into a cup anymore.  And then I got mad.  Throughout this ordeal, he has had to wank into a cup, maybe 5 times total.  However, I have had to have an ultrasound wand shoved up my hohaa 5 or 6 times PER MONTH. Whose ordeal has been more invasive, painful, time consuming?  Um, I’d say mine!  I told him I wish we could switch places because I’d MUCH rather be in his place than in mine right now.  Plus, I always have to schedule my appointments around my lunch so I am not taking time off work.  There is nothing like rushing to the clinic hoping to make it in time so as to not have to sit and wait, get undressed from the waist down, get the hohaa wanded, and then rush back to work all in an hour or less.  Yeah, that’s fun.

God infertility sucks.  It is my wound.  Poke it and I cry.  When I was old enough to realize that actors and actresses were acting and not actually real people in real situations, I would marvel at their ability to cry when the script called for it.  I later learned this is usually a result of method acting (not smell the fart acting).  An actor will remember something painful and call upon those memories in order to feel the pain required to start the tears.  When I learned this, I was hoping to one day be an actress and I would hold on to hurts just in case I ever needed them for a crying scene.  I never did.  However, if I were to be in a crying scene, I could cry on cue just be thinking about our struggles with infertility.

Anyway, I wanted to talk to Bob about all of this last night.  I wanted to talk about where this leaves us.  Does he even want to keep trying to get pregnant?  Should we just move on to looking into adoption? If so, why are we pouring all this money into a cruise when we KNOW we need it for adoption? What does he want?  We never talked about it though because he wasn’t feeling well (he got my cold) and went to bed early while I still had homework to do.

The thought of going on in life without children makes my heart hurt.  It also makes my mind wander into territory I never in a million years thought I’d let it wander.  Like, what if I hadn’t married Bob?  Would I still be single and childless?  What if I had an affair JUST to get pregnant?  Would Bob have to know it wasn’t his?  Could I pay someone I know to go to the clinic with their sperm when I’m ovulating? If we don’t have kids, what kind of marriage can we have?  If it’s just us…forever…can I really do that?  It seems to empty of joy and hope.  I just feel so abandoned and alone.  Is this what God wants marriage to be?

See?  These are not things I thought I would ever struggle with.  It’s not me.  I was always of the mind that marriage is forever and that no matter what, you stick together.  Still, I’m really struggling here. What is this coming to?  Why has everything been so damn difficult?  Where is our job, our hope, our victory?  It’s not even as if we have done anything to deserve this.  We didn’t create Muscular Dystrophy. We didn’t choose infertility.  If it’s not one thing, it’s another and I am sick of struggling.  It’s been 6 years of marriage with 5 full years of hope and only to lead to despair.  Every month it’s the same thing and it’s so tiring.  I really thought this would be our year.  I believed this was our year.  And it’s not.  I just feel so alone.  As if I’m all alone in this and God has forgotten me.  What is God doing here?  Why has He abandoned us in this place?  Why did he make me marry this man who I loved so wholly, committed to with such willing abandon only to bring us…here?

(Note to people reading this…I might be thinking these things, they might be fleeting thoughts inside my head but they are not things I am going to be acting upon.  Thoughts do NOT necessarily equal actions.  Since I process things through writing, I am possessing here.  No worries.)