I Thought That Would Be Me

This is probably the hardest blog post I've written. In this journey of Infertility, vulnerability is the hardest part. One of the things I think I express in every blog post and that I want to reiterate here, is that I never want people to think I'm sharing these things for pity, or because I want people to feel bad for me. I don't want anyone to feel like they can't do or say things around me because they're afraid of saying the wrong thing or hitting a nerve. One of the biggest things I've learned in this journey is that Infertility is no one's fault. It isn't our fault we haven't been able to have babies, but Sally got pregnant her first try, and Suzy's husband can get her pregnant just by winking at her. I never want anyone to mistake my pain for anger or frustration towards them. I can be happy for you, and still be sad for us! 

I was the first in my group of friends to get married, in fact, I was one of the first in my high school class to get married. I assumed we would have babies before everyone else since we got married so much earlier than most of my friends. But, time passed, and even the friends who got married years after we did have started their little families. It seems like there is a pregnancy announcement on Facebook at least once a week. I remember thinking, "I'm fine. She hasn't had a baby yet and neither have they. I still have lots of time." But now, I can count on one hand the number of friends I have that haven't had a baby or aren't pregnant, and every time I see another pregnancy announcement my heart breaks a little more. Because I thought that would be me.

In December, my little sister announced that she was pregnant. I remember we were unpacking, and we were taking boxes from the kitchen into the garage. I stopped and sat at the bottom of the stairs and told Brandon I needed a minute. I started crying and he knew immediately what was wrong. But I was so conflicted. I was so excited! I have been looking forward to little cowboy and cowgirl babies since before my sister even got married. But how my heart ached. I cried myself to sleep that night. The next morning, I started to think about everything else that her pregnancy meant. We were married 4.5 years before my sister. I was the first of my siblings to get married and logically, I figured we would have kids before they did. I just knew that I would be the one to make my brothers uncles, and to tell my parents they were going to be grandparents. I had this vision in my head of the way it would go and how exciting it would be. But instead of me, my little sister got to do that. This crushed dream welled up inside and my heart broke all over again. Because I thought that would be me.

I struggle to go out at all. Church is hard because nearly everyone has babies and little kids. Even places like the zoo are difficult because all I can think about is how much more fun it would be if we had an excited little boy running around roaring at the lions. It seems so silly, sometimes, to dream of a life I don't have. It seems silly to wish a moment was different, even though that moment is good. But every time we go out, I look at the little families and my heart sinks. Because I thought that would be me.

Last August, I went to Kauai with my mom, sister and brother-in-law. There was this adorable turtle onesie that we saw everywhere. It was one of those onesies that was customized to the location and that you buy your baby as a souvenir. I ended up sending a picture to Brandon and asking him if I needed it. He told me no. I knew I probably didn't, but I wanted it anyway. I didn't buy it because, well, who buys a souvenir onesie for a baby they don't have? In February, some of my family came to visit. We went to the Polynesian Cultural Center and, lo and behold, there was that turtle onesie. My mom picked it up and walked to the counter with it, to buy it for her grand baby that came along for the trip in my sister's belly. I had to walk outside. I sat on a bench next to my husband and cried behind my sunglasses. Because I thought that would be me.

There are so many things about Infertility that are hard. The realization that you have to let go of a dream, or at least let go of some of the details, is so difficult. I have always had this vision in my head of how my family would be. I wanted a family young, so that my kids could grow up with lots of cousins and could have time with their grandparents and great-grandparents that they really remembered and cherished. I wanted to make my parents grandparents. I want to share all these beautiful places that we get to live with my kids. I want to watch my cousins hold my babies at the family reunions. I want my kids to remember my grandparents, because the memories I have of my great-grandparents are memories I will cherish forever. And I know, we have time. I know, we're still young. But we aren't getting younger, and if the next 4.5 years go as quickly as the last have, we truly don't have as much time as we'd like to believe we do. I know that just because some of the things I dreamed of can't be a reality, that doesn't mean that some of them can't. It doesn't mean we won't have kids, or that I can't make my parents grandparents again. But letting go of those hopes and visions can truly be heartbreaking. Maybe it's naive to get so worked up and hope for things that you don't know will happen. It's unfair to put this expectation on ourselves when we have no control over whether or not it will happen. But without those hopes, without those dreams, what else do we have?

I'm not sharing this so you feel bad for us. I'm sharing this because I'm hoping it will reach someone else who is struggling. I'm writing about our struggles because I hope that it will help someone else feel comfortable sharing theirs. I'm talking about our feelings because no one should be embarrassed or ashamed to talk about their struggle with Infertility. I'm trying to Flip the Script, because I never thought this would be me.


Love, Harmonie