You will burn out.

I am angry at infertility.

I am anxious, stressed, bitter, and lonely. The extreme loss I feel everyday is absolutely unfathomable to someone who's never known the struggle and setbacks. 

My infertility is not the same thing as a miscarriage, but I know their tracks run parallel together. The emotions they project on their victims are real, and poignant. Even if there happens to be a 'prize' at the end of this maze, the scars you have still resound loudly in the back of your mind, and make your heart ache. 

I've spent all of my twenties and yes, even my last year as a "teenager", working on creating the family I ALWAYS saw for myself based on the remarks of my first OB.

"It's going to take awhile for you to become pregnant. I'd suggest starting as soon as you're comfortable with the idea."

How is it even possible to become 'comfortable' with infertility? Comfortable with the thousands of dollars, the countless appointments, the invasion of privacy? Comfortable with the possibility that you might never have that child you so clearly see in your mind, actually sleeping in your arms at some point? 

Here I am waiting, once again, on another doctor to try and figure out why traditional medication isn't working, and what our next step will be at this time. I am SO furious with how long this has taken. The amount of money we've thrown at hope and wishes and the belief that "this is IT, I can feel it," hasn't given us answers or gotten us any closer to an achievable solution.

I usually pride myself on the strength I've had through all of this. I pat myself on the back for not breaking down the minute I see a pregnancy announcement on social medias. I applaud my many emotions for not wreaking havoc on me at strange hours of the night when I see the first photo of a newborn one of the new proud parents uploads. I try to push down my anger at the single mom who says "Do you want one of mine?" while pregnant with her 5th child. I do my best to not be bitter at the bragging parents, and the raving grandparents, aunts and uncles. 

But I'm human. I'm angry. I wonder everyday what it is that I've done that has burdened me with the price of infertility. What did I do to deserve this? 

Nobody deserves this. Infertility is not racist, sexist, ageist, etc, etc. 

Apparently, shitty things just happen, and it really is up to you how you deal with them. 

Today, I prefer to deal with it by throwing things and hating infertility with every ounce of strength I have left. 

-J