the face of infertility.

disclaimer:  this isn't a "feel bad for me" post.  or even a "this is really why we don't have kids, so stop asking."  this is for my other sisters, friends who know just how much it hurts, who have the pain deep inside, and to know that you aren't alone.  

the face of infertility.

where do you even start on a topic so tender, so close to home, so very real?  how do i tell you what it feels like without offending the majority of you who think, "did i ever say something like that to her?"  or "who does she think she is..."  how do you answer when someone asks you when you're having kids without telling them the truth and probably crying?  how do i tell you, without getting too personal?

i've avoided this post for months, although it's always in the back of my mind.  always on my mind. but lately i just keep thinking, i never want to forget.  and if i can let one other person know that she's not alone, i'll write it again and again.

what it feels like:
heartbreak, hope, sadness, bitterness, wondering, relief, anxiety, judged, loneliness, jealousy, and lots and lot of tears.

i could tell you stories about the times i've felt heartbroken.  the times i felt judged.  the times i've cried in my room feeling so very alone.  you try to move on and get past it, but it's as though each of these emotions, these situations are little tiny pin pricks, that are incredibly slow to heal.  more often than not, they get pricked again and the healing process starts over.  

it's as though you always have your guard up, the "just-in-case" moments.  it's being hypersensitive to anyone talking about anything pregnancy or baby related.  particularly around "that" time, which means no for another month. it's the 'be strong. don't cry until you're alone' situations.  and sometimes, it's trying to say something nice even when you want to answer their question with a really snarky answer.

but it's also the moments of quiet reassurance.  the friends who reach out, when they really don't know what to say.  it's the tender mercies, that are so small, but mean the most.  it's staying hopeful and happy.  and sometimes it's just crying to feel better.