Monday, November 25, 2013

My infertility has a song

She'll lie and steal, and cheat, and beg you from her knees
Make you think she means it this time
She'll tear a hole in you, the one you can't repair
But I still love her, I don't really care

When we were young, oh, oh, we did enough
When it got cold, ooh, ooh, we bundled up
I can't be told, ah, ah, it can't be done

It's better to feel pain, than nothing at all
The opposite of love's indifference
So pay attention now, I'm standing on your porch screaming out
And I won't leave until you come downstairs


So keep your head up, keep your love
Keep your head up, my love
Keep your head up, keep your love

And I don't blame you dear for running like you did all these years
I would do the same, you'd best believe
And the highway signs say we're close but I don't read those things anymore
I never trusted my own eyes

When we were young oh, oh, we did enough
When it got cold, ooh, ooh we bundled up
I can't be told, ah, ah, it can't be done

"She" is my infertility.

Infertility has lied to me and stolen from me. She made me think that there was a cure that I had a chance, that all I needed was a doctor's help. 

She stole the intimacy from my marriage when it comes to the "traditional" form of baby making. 

She has made me beg for a child and for my body to work. She has made me think that with each new cycle there is new hope; that this cycle might be the cycle. She taunts me with her hope. She is something I can't give up on. 

She had made us think that if we spent our money on fertility treatments we would get pregnant. She made us think that all we needed to do was spend the cash, take the shots, and the doctors would get us pregnant. She lied. 

She made me think that my body could work if we treated it and tricked it with medications. She tricked me; she cheated me.

She stole my optimism. She made me doubt myself, my body, my doctors and my ability to be a mother.

She has shown me that is is better to feel pain than nothing at all. I've believe this because of the stories I've read. Infertility is mean, cruel and heartless. She doesn't care who you are- she shows little mercy. But, the people who feel and deal with her wrath are better people because of her; even if they don't see it now.

She makes me think of Holly, Erika, Liz and Risa. She makes me think of those who have been so close, yet so far away from achieving their dream. She has shown me that even in the darkest hours, in the deepest of pains, it is better to have a memory than nothing at all.

I can stand up to her, no matter how dark the road gets and no matter how far I want to run; I just have to remind myself that it is better to feel pain than nothing at all and if you keep fighting, you might beat her. But. You. Must. Keep. Fighting.

She hasn't won yet. She's torn a hole in me; one I can't repair and that is okay- because just like her, I am stubborn and I can't be told it can't be done!

Tag: What is your "(in)fertility song"?

6 comments:

  1. Couldn't have said it better. She did it to me, too. That bitch.

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  2. Don't you just love how powerful music can be to match the emotions you are feeling? At one point my fertility song was "Dream" by The Cranberries (http://sensitiveginger.blogspot.com/2013/09/oh-my-life-is-changing-everyday.html).

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  3. I had no answer to this yesterday, but I just put it in my recent blog post: http://www.theicingonourcake.com/2013/11/are-you-kidding-me.html

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  4. You are amazing, my dear friend.

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  5. She's a bitch. I'm sorry you have to fight with her.

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