In an attempt to stir my muse I've been reading through my old journal entries from a year ago when we were living in a cookie-cutter sub-division on the East Coast. I didn't remember how tragic all my writing was. I wrote about nothing more than the pain and anger I was enduring.
June 27, 2008 - Mowing in Pleasantville
My optimism has turned to anger like innocence to cynical. This month after month of not getting pregnant has worn me down. I do my best to show a sunny face, but down beneath I am a violent storm. A squall of frustration, jealously and anger. I want to spit at my neighbor who happily hosts a neighborhood playgroup in her back yard. I avert my eyes as I push my loud lawnmower along the property line. A sight like this makes me as hot and bothered on the inside as I am on the outside from the hours of physical labor. There are my peers smiling and socializing together, each with their own baby and what am I? Not a mother like those women, that’s for sure. I feel like the lonely, baron neighbor who doesn’t fit into her community where everyone has children. It's just one more glaring reminder of our fertility struggle.
November 5, 2008 - Obama's Election Results
We set out from the first day of our marriage trying to conceive a baby…like being on a campaign trail. So many ups and downs as we thrived on hope. The vote is in, after 18 months, we're dubbed infertile. Our doctors told us that we cannot do this on our own. We need their intervention. Instead of Obama’s, “Yes. We. Can.” all I hear in my mind is “No. You. Can’t.” I feel like I lost this election. I was not elected ‘Mother,’ and the feelings of loss are immeasurable.
After reading these, and many others like them, I allowed myself to cry big, fat tears this morning. It could be the drugs I'm injecting or the fact that I'm on my period that has me feeling so emotional. I'm sure it also has a lot to do with the fear I have of loosing the second IVF round too. It also could very well be the beautiful sounds of The Concerto for Viola and Strings in G Major I have playing throughout the house. Ever since I was a small child, at the symphony with my father, I've known that classical music has that 'pulling on your heart-strings' effect on me. It's like I'm playing the sad and dramatic sound track to my miserable journal entries...why am I doing this to myself?
As masochistic as it seems, I believe it is important not to loose track of where I am coming from and how much I've been through emotionally. I have learned a lot about myself throughout the process and right now I'm standing on stronger emotional footing because I have allowed myself to feel the ugly, and scary stuff.
Denying emotions, other than excitement about undergoing IVF (yet again) is unreasonable. Of course fear and anxiety are lurking around so eventually I will have to address them or they could rise up at the wrong time and ultimately throw me way off center. By allowing myself to feel scared and cry today I am preparing myself to be be strong and positive when I need to be...like when I'm sitting in front of my doctor asking important questions. He's a scientist not a therapist (I've learned this from our previous experiences with him) so it's best to only rely on him for the technical medical stuff and save myself the heartache when he isn't able to meet my emotional needs.
Live it, learn it!
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