Monday, September 17, 2012

It's all lies

 Lately, I find myself in a bout of emotions, crashing and rolling like waves.     Lately, there have been times when I'd encounter so many photos of babies, baby announcements, even a photo of a dead baby in its coffin (who'd even think sharing THAT on Facebook?), and....

I throw in the towel.  

I see people share posts of loving their mothers, loving their children, being so grateful of being a mom, and I kept thinking, "is it me or are they doing that on purpose to rub it in?"  Several times I remind myself, they have the reason to be happy.

A part of me then snaps, "Then why can't I either be happy?"

 *sigh*  No way to go around that right now.  And I think what adds to the complication is that I'm not in a relationship, so I don't have someone, where I could let go and be told it's okay.  

I was getting to know someone.  He knew of my situation.  Yet I knew then he didn't 'get it' when he asked "what if I wanted children later on? What if I want to have kids? I don't want adoption but children of my blood."  and I looked at him and said, "that's something you have to think on."    

I knew it when later on when I heard nothing from him.  

It has been seven months since the hysterectomy.    The world has been moving on, while I find myself stuck.     I have said that I have been okay.    Things are good.    Things are going good.  I'm better.  

Guess what?  It's all lies.     I'm not okay.   I find myself hateful- angry- bitter- tearful- sad.  

I hate 'em.     I hate that they have babies and I don't.    I hate guys who think they can decide for us women.  I hate the cultural mentality that a woman is nothing without children.  I hate women who think everything can be fixed by having children.  "If I can't find a job,  might as well have a baby!"    "To save my marriage, I gotta be pregnant."  "Everyone else is pregnant, so if I am not pregnant, I'm a freak."    I hate 'em.  

I am angry that I didn't get a say in having children or not.  I am angry that everyone else around me is able to pop babies out, except me.   I am angry about the woman who had killed her unborn baby a week before its due date.  I am angry at the world for moving on.  I'm angry at idiots who feel women should keep their legs crossed, blaming the woman for rates of pregnancy when clinics providing birth control, one by one, are shut down in name of  "religion."   I am angry at people who want small government, yet is fine with the concept of having government in our bedrooms, even in our beds (or bathtub or car or on the beach.) I am angry that I am infertile.  

I am also bitter at ex friends who claimed they were friends, but when they found out I couldn't have children, they dropped me like a hot potato.  Such pals I had...  Bitter at folks who said they'll be there as they did a week after my surgery, and then they disappeared off the surface of the world, basically blocking me, not explaining- nothing.  At least I'm entitled to an explanation, wouldn't you think? Now I find them on another page under a different name (while a friend left a comment on my page), brown-nosing someone I knew.  They had fed on each other, being supportive of each other on the surface, yet being so hateful behind each other's back, being angry that one copied one other, "She got that idea from me, I'm sick of it!" and "Can't she be original, why does she copy me in everything?"  I could tell one other about what they had talked about each other behind each other's back, and me trying to stay neutral all through it, with ugly truths, but why should I open a can of worms?  I have enough on my own hands without dealing with their drama.  Beside if they could do that to someone (me) who trusted them during a vulnerable time, I wouldn't trust them again, as far as I could throw them.  Burned once, lesson learned.  

I am tearful here and there.   My eyes fill up with tears looking at a baby announcement I got in mail.  I wipe tears away as one new grandmother joyfully shares a photo of her holding her grandson. I reach for a tissue as I finish a movie 'Bride Wars' with such dismay, as two characters look at each other, "you're pregnant?" with excitement. I struggle not to cry as a co-worker talks with other about their babies.  Tears go down cheeks as I touch my hand on the monitor, aching to have my own baby, not even liking that photos of babies are found on Pinterest inadvertently. 

I am sorrow filled.  I grieve that so many things had happened horribly.  I am sad that some folks are dastard, that they would go low to hurt when someone is already low.  I am lying on bed, saddened that sometimes truth hurts, even leaving wounds behind.  

So..I'm better.     That has to be the biggest lie one has to live with in the world of infertility.  


  1. (((HUGE HUGS))) It takes time to grieve fully. Infertility is oftentimes so unexpected and the grief may shock us at our core, even when we think we're doing OK. It's OK, though...when you need to grieve, just grieve fully and let it all go...don't deny it and don't keep it all in. It's better to just let the storm wash you over...because then you'll learn to dance in the storm/rain and know that you'll be allright once it subsides. The storm may come again and again, but you know it won't last forever...

    YOU ARE PRECIOUS and WORTHY just the way you are!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    1. Thanks, Amel- for your kind words... Sometimes, even when I know it, I just need reminders that it is okay to grieve fully, to let go instead of holding in.

  2. It’s ok to be angry. It’s part of the process to heal, although it may not feel that way right now. It is hard to have to put on a shell and let everyone else think you are ok. Let it out here, we know that it’s not ok and that it is hard. (Hugs)

    1. Oh yeah, you said it, it's hard! And exhausting too. One of many reasons why I'm on vacation now, away from everything, to be with my dear friend in NYC.

  3. The others have said it all. It is okay to feel like this. It won't always feel like this - but it's perfectly normal that it feels like this now.

    And I'm so sorry that your friends have let you down so badly. That's a huge hurt on top of all the other hurts. So I'm sending hugs too.

    1. Yes, that's something I didn't expect- and I suspect that's what is complicating the grief as well, the hurt 'on top of all other hurts.' That's why I'm right here with my dear friend- she has been there through low and high for many years, being on vacation away from reminders for a while.

  4. Hey Wolfers!!! Wish I could give you a hug in person!! Any chance you live in South Florida?? If not, I hope a cyberhug will do. I think when we are unable to have childre, we tend to find out way too quickly, that far too many of our friends don't really understand, or don't know how to manage being sensitive or supportive. I don't know that it is not that we don't get better about it. I think we do, but there are always moments, triggers. Had one just a little while ago with the Shakira pregnancy announcement. Pregnancy announcements are the worst for me!!! They make me feel left out at a very basic level, the experience of seeing a BPF, just once. :( But, then there are days and moments when I am happy and content with my life... I remind myself that we never know what good life might have to bring around the corner, what happy surprises... so yeah, wish you were in South FL.

    1. :) Hello Iris! Alas, no I do not live in Florida. I'm in the redneck state of Kentucky, with the big families and conservatives preaching women are nothing without babies. :P
      You're very right during crises, that's when we find which friends stay or flee.

      Actually with the triggers lately, it had provoked me to write another blog post- as in an attempt for moms to put themselves in our shoes... At least, I feel much better after writing that.

      Yeah, I'm wishing I'm in Florida too... At least I am more comfortable with hurricanes than pregnancy announcements. :P

    2. Would love to visit Kentucky one day... I keep visualizing rolling hills and horses!! :) It's pretty flat around here. :) Big hug... off to read your latest post! Glad you are feeling better!!

  5. I felt I could have written this a couple of years ago. This is EXACTLY how I felt after my hysterectomy. Angry, sad. Very angry. Very sad. Trying to pretend to be OK. Of course, I wasn't smart enough to write about it... I just was ANGRY and then tried to hide it and pretend I was OK and it wasn't healthy and I took it out on my now husband.

    And it seemed like so many people got pregnant right after that. Which hurt. Because I was like I am barren. I didn't get to choose. I had to do to this to save my life. And it sucked. A lot. A lot. A lot.

    Go at your own pace. It took me 14 months to start to really be OK. And to start feeling some real happiness. and it took longer than that to be actually be good. So go with what you feel. I think it took me so long because I was ignoring what was really going on.

    Hugs to you. Please email me any time or we could chat online. I know how hard this is. Thinking of you and sending you lots of warm fuzzies and love.