Infertility is tough, but what can make it even harder is holding onto that small shred of hope. The hope that maybe the countless doctors are wrong. The hope that maybe just maybe you could be part of the small percentage of people who prove everyone wrong. The hope that one day you’ll get to hold your own baby in your arms. Sadly though I’m beginning to think that holding on to that hope is pointless.
There’s a quote I’ve seen online a lot since being diagnosed – “there is a unique pain that comes from preparing a place for a child that never comes” Back in 2014 I never really paid much attention to it, but recently I’ve come to realise just how accurate that statement is.
When you decide to start trying for a baby, you open your heart to the idea of there being another person in your life. You start to love a someone who isn’t even alive yet, doing everything humanly possible to get the opportunity for them to be a part of your world. Unfortunately with infertility, that day never comes. You wait and you wait, you try everything and anything, but time after time nothing happens. Your baby never arrives, no matter how hard you try.
I can only explain the pain from negative tests and long doctors appointments as completely and utterly gut wrenching. Honestly, it’s a pain I’ve never experienced before. I feel alone, like I’m a failure, and find that I’m constantly questioning whether there was anything I could ever have done to have prevented this. The answer there is obviously no, no there is not a single thing I could’ve done to change this. Deep down I know that this isn’t my fault and I most certainly am not a failure, but sometimes the heartache is too much and I can’t stop myself feeling this way.
I’ve been through some tough things so far in life and I’ve always come out the other side with a smile on my face, but preparing my heart for a baby that doesn’t come is one of the toughest things I’ve had to go through. Every part of me wants to scream and shout that it’s not fair, or curl up in a ball and cry until there’s nothing left, but I realise this wont get me anywhere. I have to stay strong and keep holding on to that hope that one day it’ll be my turn, because if I don’t I may just fall apart.