Infertile moment (it's been awhile)

It's well after 10pm on Friday night. JB is on call. Scrubs is sound asleep. The bird is covered and hiding in her little nest. The only noise stems from the television which I inadvertently left on in the other room.

In other words, it's just me.

And I, for some reason, am having a rough evening.

I know it will pass. It always does. These "moments" used to sweep in much more frequently then they have lately. I even, naively, convinced myself that these moments wouldn't ever occur again. That I was "past all that." Sure I am barren, but I can handle that! At least it's easy to keep my house clean.

These "moments" can occur for any of a long list of reasons. Everything can be going perfectly fine when suddenly, I am flooded with a wave of emotion. Usually the emotion originates with some sort of news or some sort of image. Tonight was no different.

Well let me back up a bit.

Tonight's moment actually started two nights ago. JB and I took Scrubs to our favorite hangout on the beach. Remember the doula? Well, I didn't get into it in an earlier post because I basically was trying to ignore it, but this woman not only asked me about our life, but hit all the hard questions in rapid succession. The conversation went something like this:

Doula: Do you have kids?
Wendi: No.
Doula: How long have you been married?
Wendi: Nine years.
Doula: And you don't have kids?
Wendi: No, we don't.
Doula: Well hang out around this neighborhood long enough and you will.
Wendi: Right.
Doula: Do you want to have kids?
Wendi: We haven't been able to have kids.
Doula: Really?
Wendi: Really, yes. We are in the process of adoption.
Doula: Oh, well you know, once you adopt, you'll get pregnant.
Wendi: Right.
Doula: So, what have you done?
Wendi: Done?
Doula: You know. What procedures have you tried?
Wendi: 3 clomid, 5 IUI, 4 IVF.
Doula: Oh. Well, what's wrong with you?
Wendi: Ummm, I don't ovulate. And they don't know why IVF hasn't worked.
Doula: I see.

It was at this point that I took Scrub's leash from JB and managed to entice the dog to want to be somewhere else so I could follow. I quickly put the conversation behind me. John and I only talked about it briefly. I was okay, I kept telling myself. I didn't want to have any more moments.

And I thought it was behind me. But today, the moment continued. Today, it started with an image. The only house currently occupied on our street is occupied by a couple with brand new twins. They came strolling out of the house today while I sat on the porch. I walked by and pushed the image out of my head. I rounded the corner. Blue sign. Pink sign. Blue sign. (You know those delightful signs people stick in their front yard announcing the new addition?) The yards all of a sudden seemed flooded with them. Maybe what the woman I met the first night we moved in said was true, "Everyone on this block is pregnant or has a houseful."

Everyone but me.

Side note: If I ever do get pregnant, or heck, even when our daughter comes home from China, I'm going to buy like 50 of those pink signs and stick them all over our front lawn. Everyone will know! Everyone! Feel free to buy me a sign, please. (But then I'll feel bad if there is someone who is infertile and they see my yard. Maybe I could get a sign that explains all that.)

All right, tangent over.

The moment with the twins and the yard signs passed, and again, I thought I was okay.

But next was a pregnancy announcement for someone I don't know well. She's pregnant through IVF. Her first IVF. I talked her through the early stages of this procedure. I encouraged her. I wanted her to have success and yet, when she does, I can't help feel ... well, jealous. And don't worry dear friend. If you are reading this blog, know that my heart is happy for you. I'm actually ecstatic for you.

I'm just sad for me.

Actually the words I said out loud when I started to pray were -- "God, does it work for everyone but me?"

I honestly cannot begin to tell you how many times I have been connected with another woman going through infertility and watched as that other woman gets the two lines and I continue waiting. I remember one of the hardest cries I have had was as I suffered my fifth IUI failure and a good friend had success on her first. I should be happy for her. She doesn't have to go through this. But geezie peezie, I just wanted it to be me.

The support group I helped start in Minnesota didn't help eliminate these feelings. Either did the online support group I so routinely seek out for comfort. Ironically, the two places I have most utilized for encouragement and support are the two places that sometimes, also hurt the worst. I'm really not sure what's worse: finding out that someone got pregnant easily or finding out that someone who did the exact same treatment as you had success right away.

Aaaaahhh ... the pity party.

Thanks for listening. As I said earlier, there isn't anyone to pity with right now. I have a few people I could call, but it's 10:30. It's late. And I'm tired.

I'm just feeling a bit sad. Sad that I am 30 and still not a mom. Sad I've almost been married a decade and we still are just the two of us. Sad that this adoption seems so daunting and the paperwork so overwhelming.

But again, it's a moment. And moments pass.

Tomorrow's a new day!