August 31, 2009

Support System

It's been six weeks since the world spun out of control. Six weeks of tears, anger, rage and questions. Will we ever be able to have biological children? Why isn't there any sperm? Where do we go from here? Are we strong enough to endure this hell? How is it that our life has become centered around sperm?! Six weeks to think about what this means and what our options are. We use to talk a lot about our future children and the things we would teach them, places we would take them and the life we wanted to experience with them. We don't talk about that anymore and we don't daydream about our future either. We are stuck because we just don't know enough at this point. I am super anxious for the 17th to get here so that our minds can be put to ease. I know that if it's bad news, we will grieve and be devastated but I also know that we will also be able to focus on the bigger picture. We will find a way to build our family, that much we do know.

I have been talking a lot about this with my best friends and my Mom. It makes me sad that they don't understand and they often end up saying hurtful things to me. My two best friends get exasperated with me because I am so depressed about not being able to have biological children. They tell me that adoption is the same thing and that at least I have that available to me. Why can't I just be happy about that? My Mom has morphed into a super cheerleader and is always telling me that miracles happen. She just doesn't believe that we won't have biological children and she thinks it's all a mistake. C is much too young and healthy to be sterile. When I start to get upset, she changes the subject so quickly that I just give up. I've explained to her, again and again, that I just need her to listen but she never does. It's incredibly frustrating to not be able to get the support I need from my loved ones.

There is only C that gives me the support I need and of course, that makes sense. Only he knows the agony we are experiencing, the right thing to say or not to say and when to hug me or when to walk away. I am glad we have each other to lean on, he keeps me sane. But it sure is lonely to have nobody else understand or at least be sympathetic enough. It hurts to be around anything pregnancy related, it hurts to walk by baby sections in stores and it hurts that I can't share my feelings without the fear of being judged. Infertility is a lonely road. My friends suck right now. Well, actually, my ovaries and C's testicles suck too.


  1. I'm so sorry you're hurting and don't have the support you need IRL. There is no way our friends and family can understand how devastating this is, because it isn't happening to them.

    I hope they come around. I'll be thinking good thoughts for you and C. I hope you get wonderful news in a couple weeks((hugs))


  2. I'm so sorry that you're going through this. You and C are in my thoughts and prayers.

    I have had a difficult time finding people IRL who have been supportive of me and my DH as well, I only have one close friend that I have been able to confide in who understands and is supportive. I think that because so many people don't know the facts about infertility they just don't understand or know how to respond. That doesn't make it any easier, I know.