I lurk on some subreddits regarding TTC and fertility, and well, this post really touched me. I’ve reproduced it below with the writer’s permission as sort of an anonymous “guest post”.
Disclaimer: I believe that every parent has the right to moan. But this is sometimes how our brains work when we’re in this mess. I thought some of you might relate to it.
I see your posts about your kids and how you need wine to get through the day while I skip wine with dinner on the hope that this month will prove luckier than the last.
I see your posts about how no one understands your exhaustion from raising two bright and beautiful children as I’m sitting in the bathroom because the medication used to make me ovulate caused nausea and I haven’t slept in three days.
I see your posts on how your little one is starting soccer and how much you hate watching them kick a ball while wondering if my potential child would have their father’s love for computers or my love for art and music.
You post while at the salon saying how lovely it is to be without your child and get your hair done, while I’m losing mine, accepting that it may at least grow back if I get pregnant.
You call your child a brat and complain that they cried in the store while I cry in the doctor’s office, when they tell me that we need more tests.
Then, you ask when we’re “having a family” and I smile around the pain that question causes because we are a family, we just want an addition to it.
You ask “What are you waiting for?” and I walk away because we’re waiting for hormones to balance and luck to be on our side.
You ask why I don’t want to be a mother when the answer is that I want nothing more but nothing is working.
And then you point out that maybe it’s for the best because of all the reasons you come up with that we shouldn’t have children. Then, you count everything you despise about parenthood, not realizing that it’s every reason I want to be a parent.
Then you wonder why I get angry and snap out at the posts and the questions. Why is my language vulgar and so harsh? But when I answer honestly you tell me what I’m doing wrong because scar tissue can be cured by relaxing and eggs are released based solely on level of enjoyment. You tell me that specialists are just out for my money because when the resident held my hand during a painful exam, she was just thinking about my pocketbook.
And then you wonder why infertility is spoken about behind closed doors and in whispers. Why we don’t seek support and why we fear it being common knowledge.
Well, this is my reply.