Infertility & Grieving the Loss of How Things ‘Should Be’
“This is not how things were supposed to be.”
That’s what I was thinking/praying as I sped down the highway to get a lovely test done where dye was shot into my uterus leading to DEAR-GOODNESS-THESE-ARE-AWFUL CRAMPS to see if my fallopian tubes were working. Followed by my leaking a tarlike substance into a pad for the next few hours.
Yeah. It was a good time (insert sarcasm here).
I couldn’t help thinking that phrase then — and over and over again these days as I go to the fertility clinic or have another doctor’s appointment or get more bloodwork done or face another period.
Or, in a bonus unexpected test, as I get saline shot into my uterus because something looked slightly abnormal in the dye test. (Thankfully, everything was OK, but seriously … eww.)
The Unending Journey of Infertility
The longer that “not how it should be” thought rattles around in my mind, the more another question presents itself: How long do I want to continue down this road? I mean, yes, I want to know if something is wrong. But if something is wrong — if we need “help” to have biological children — how far do we want to go?
It’s not that I think fertility treatments are wrong or sinful as a Christian. I don’t at all!
But the idea I had of making a child with my husband was more a dream of us loving each other and spending time together enjoying sexual intimacy. Not him ejaculating into a container and me getting (basically) a baster shoved up me, preceded and followed by countless ultrasounds and tests.
So even though fertility treatments aren’t wrong, it just feels … sad. Like the death of a dream I didn’t know I had. After all, I’m not sure prior to this lovely infertility journey I *really* thought about how I wanted conception to look.
I didn’t think about it because I assumed everything would work out fine. We would get pregnant within months of trying.
And now that it’s been three years, I can’t help but ask that question: How far do we really want to go to have a baby?
Honestly, I’m not sure what the answer is. But I know whatever we decide, I’ll have to continue to process the grief of a journey that is not “as it should be.”
And quite frankly, that’s a hard pill to swallow.
Originally published at http://diaryofchristianinfertility.wordpress.com on February 19, 2022.