Its Not Just a Case of the Mondays

Today is a stay-in-bed-and-eat-your-feelings kind of day.

Unfortunately, I absolutely had to go to the grocery store this morning or we'd have a heaping plate of nothing for dinner tonight.

But you can bet that as soon as I came home, I crawled right back in to bed, unwrapped my embarrassing yet craving-satisfying Taco Bell burrito, and resumed the way my morning began---in tears. Of course, I had to go to work a couple hours later. And now I sit at my desk, eyes burning, swollen, and red from crying, praying I can just hold on for four hours and then I can go home, away from everyone.

Its one of those days where I wish I could just sleep forever, because that's the only true moment of solace and escape from the heartache. 

Not every day is this bad---some days I go on with life.

And then, something happens that brings you right back to reality---broken, barren, a failure. 

Everyone tells me that this isn't a punishment from God, but it sure feels like it. 

Everyone says that its not the right time, but then I think about all of the teenage girls, the women who have one night stands, the irresponsible, the abusive, the drug addicts, who are pregnant. Is it the right time for them? 

I got an education. I got married in the temple. I did everything I could to be someone that would make a good (or at the very least a decent) mom. I married a good man who is trustworthy and kind. We can actually afford to care for a child. We pay our tithing. We go to church every Sunday. We fulfill our callings.

But its not the right time for me? For us?

I sound horribly dramatic. But,

Studies have shown that women dealing with infertility experience the same stress, depression, and general negative feelings as someone with cancer or the loss of a loved one. The grief of infertility is no less than the grief of illness or death. 

So every 33-42 days, I'm left mourning the loss of a child that doesn't even exist yet, a dream that once again didn't come true. I'm mourning my failure as a female, my inability to perform the greatest privilege God gives to women. I'm mourning my stupidity for getting my hopes up every month and thinking 'this could finally be it'. I'm mourning being mocked by my body that lies to me and makes me think the nausea, tenderness, headaches, bloating, and initial absence of a period are all signs that this pain is over. 

I've done ten months of this. 

And though that might seem like nothing to some, 

its been an eternity for me. 

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Despite all of this, I'd at least like to say that I'm touched by those who reached out to me over the weekend and who encouraged me through blog comments, Facebook messages, and emails to tell my story. I'm grateful for your support and love.

***update 3/21: Saying that the grief of infertility is similar to the kind that comes with cancer or death is not meant to offend anyone or make those trials less painful and horrible. It is not saying that they are the same experience. They aren't. It is saying that the level of grief is similar. This doesn't lessen the pain people feel during the death of a loved one or through cancer. Likewise, the grief of realizing you miss a child that never existed, isn't to say that you know exactly what its like to lose one of your actual children. It is simply mourning the loss of a dream, every month. As Resolve, the National Fertility Association explains, 

"Infertility is, indeed, a very painful struggle. The pain is similar to the grief over losing a loved one, but it is unique because it is a recurring grief. When a loved one dies, he isn't coming back. There is no hope that he will come back from the dead. You must work through the stages of grief, accept that you will never see this person again, and move on with your life.The grief of infertility is not so cut and dry. Infertile people grieve the loss of the baby that they may never know. They grieve the loss of that baby who would have had mommy's nose and daddy's eyes. But, each month, there is the hope that maybe that baby will be conceived after all. No matter how hard they try to prepare themselves for bad news, they still hope that this month will be different. Then, the bad news comes again, and the grief washes over the infertile couple anew. This process happens month after month, year after year. It is like having a deep cut that keeps getting opened right when it starts to heal."***