If
you saw my post on Instagram last night, you may know that yesterday was a particularly rough day. The strange thing about dealing with infertility this time around is that it tends to hit me in waves, as opposed to the constant empty ache I felt the first time. Sometimes I can go weeks and not really stress about it, but then it’ll blindside me out of nowhere and I’ll wallow around in a fog of self-pity and doubt for days. I’m not sure whether it was the long detailed message I had to leave on my RE’s voicemail telling her that it’s not working again that triggered these feelings or the fact that it’s been exactly two years since we got pregnant with Mac and I can’t help but think back on that time in our lives and how excited and happy we were. Either way, it hit me hard yesterday and I just want to thank everyone who left a comment or said a prayer for us.
When we were trying desperately to get pregnant with Mac, I used to get so angry when I’d read about women struggling with secondary infertility. What right did someone with a child have to complain about wanting another one? Why couldn’t they just be thankful for what they had? Why be so greedy when there are so many people that don’t even get one? And I have to say, I still feel that way to a point, but now that the shoe is on the other foot (isn’t that ironic how that happens), I understand. I understand the desire to give your child a sibling because I know how special that is. I understand the longing to have another baby and the desire to experience pregnancy, birth and the miracle of life all over again. I understand the fear of thinking you might not get the chance to do the baby days again. I understand that having one child doesn’t mean that your family is complete.
I can’t say that dealing with secondary infertility is any harder or easier than dealing with it the first time around, it’s just different. On the one hand, it is easier because I have Mac. I have a perfect, beautiful, healthy baby that was the answer to all my prayers. I am so incredibly blessed and thankful for him. It's also easier because I know now that I can get pregnant, which eliminates a lot of the uncertainty and fear I had the first time around. It gives me great hope to know that it’s happened before (twice), which means it could happen again. But there are some things that make it harder this time around, too. It’s harder because I now know what I’m missing. I’ve experienced pregnancy and birth, first steps and first words, cuddles and kisses. I now know how incredible it is watching my body grow a baby. I know that indescribable feeling of your newborn sleeping on your chest. I know what I’m missing out on if I don’t have another baby. The thought of not getting to experience those amazing things all over again breaks my heart into a million pieces. But then again, at least I got to experience it once.
Lately I feel like I’m once again sliding down that slippery slope of infertility-induced anger and jealousy that I had such a hard time with the first time around. I told myself over and over that this time, if it happened again, I’d be a better/stronger person - I’d have more patience, I’d be more gracious, I’d be easier on myself. But sometimes I can’t help but feel jealous when a friend announces that she’s pregnant with her second or third child. I can’t seem to let go of that last bit of anger that I have to go through all this again. Why me? And most of all, I feel guilty for wanting this so badly. Guilty for wanting another when there are so many more people out there that are more deserving and are still waiting for one. The anger and jealousy are feelings that I really struggled with the first time around. I went to a dark place for a while where I really couldn’t see past my own sadness and couldn’t be happy for anyone. I don’t want to go back there. Guilt is a new emotion for me this time around that I wasn’t expecting to feel. It's like not allowing yourself to hurt because you don't feel like you are worthy of the pain, which makes you feel even worse because you can't properly hurt. It’s basically the perfect trifecta of misery.
Part of me is hesitant to put any of this down in words; especially the part of me who still feels like wanting another child is getting greedy. Opening myself up and talking about my struggles has been incredibly scary, but also cathartic. There’s something very healing about putting your thoughts into physical tangible words. I know this post will probably draw a lot of “just be thankful for the one you have” comments, so I want to address that right up front and say that not a second goes by that I’m not eternally thankful and grateful for my child. He is my world…and if I can’t have another baby, then my story still has a happy ending. I know how lucky I am. But I also know deep down in my heart that I have so much more love to give. I want to share my life with another child. I want to be a mom again. I want a house full of chaos and disorder and bickering siblings. I want to love another baby.
I know it’s a sensitive topic and a very hard thing to talk about, but if there’s anyone else out there going through this too, please feel free to contact me if you ever want to feel a little less alone. My heart goes out to anyone wishing and hoping for a baby, whether it’ll be your first or your fifth. I’m right there with you...again (and us bitches gotta stick together).
Love.
When we were trying desperately to get pregnant with Mac, I used to get so angry when I’d read about women struggling with secondary infertility. What right did someone with a child have to complain about wanting another one? Why couldn’t they just be thankful for what they had? Why be so greedy when there are so many people that don’t even get one? And I have to say, I still feel that way to a point, but now that the shoe is on the other foot (isn’t that ironic how that happens), I understand. I understand the desire to give your child a sibling because I know how special that is. I understand the longing to have another baby and the desire to experience pregnancy, birth and the miracle of life all over again. I understand the fear of thinking you might not get the chance to do the baby days again. I understand that having one child doesn’t mean that your family is complete.
I can’t say that dealing with secondary infertility is any harder or easier than dealing with it the first time around, it’s just different. On the one hand, it is easier because I have Mac. I have a perfect, beautiful, healthy baby that was the answer to all my prayers. I am so incredibly blessed and thankful for him. It's also easier because I know now that I can get pregnant, which eliminates a lot of the uncertainty and fear I had the first time around. It gives me great hope to know that it’s happened before (twice), which means it could happen again. But there are some things that make it harder this time around, too. It’s harder because I now know what I’m missing. I’ve experienced pregnancy and birth, first steps and first words, cuddles and kisses. I now know how incredible it is watching my body grow a baby. I know that indescribable feeling of your newborn sleeping on your chest. I know what I’m missing out on if I don’t have another baby. The thought of not getting to experience those amazing things all over again breaks my heart into a million pieces. But then again, at least I got to experience it once.
Lately I feel like I’m once again sliding down that slippery slope of infertility-induced anger and jealousy that I had such a hard time with the first time around. I told myself over and over that this time, if it happened again, I’d be a better/stronger person - I’d have more patience, I’d be more gracious, I’d be easier on myself. But sometimes I can’t help but feel jealous when a friend announces that she’s pregnant with her second or third child. I can’t seem to let go of that last bit of anger that I have to go through all this again. Why me? And most of all, I feel guilty for wanting this so badly. Guilty for wanting another when there are so many more people out there that are more deserving and are still waiting for one. The anger and jealousy are feelings that I really struggled with the first time around. I went to a dark place for a while where I really couldn’t see past my own sadness and couldn’t be happy for anyone. I don’t want to go back there. Guilt is a new emotion for me this time around that I wasn’t expecting to feel. It's like not allowing yourself to hurt because you don't feel like you are worthy of the pain, which makes you feel even worse because you can't properly hurt. It’s basically the perfect trifecta of misery.
Part of me is hesitant to put any of this down in words; especially the part of me who still feels like wanting another child is getting greedy. Opening myself up and talking about my struggles has been incredibly scary, but also cathartic. There’s something very healing about putting your thoughts into physical tangible words. I know this post will probably draw a lot of “just be thankful for the one you have” comments, so I want to address that right up front and say that not a second goes by that I’m not eternally thankful and grateful for my child. He is my world…and if I can’t have another baby, then my story still has a happy ending. I know how lucky I am. But I also know deep down in my heart that I have so much more love to give. I want to share my life with another child. I want to be a mom again. I want a house full of chaos and disorder and bickering siblings. I want to love another baby.
I know it’s a sensitive topic and a very hard thing to talk about, but if there’s anyone else out there going through this too, please feel free to contact me if you ever want to feel a little less alone. My heart goes out to anyone wishing and hoping for a baby, whether it’ll be your first or your fifth. I’m right there with you...again (and us bitches gotta stick together).
Love.
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