Daydreaming

I used to daydream all the time about babies. I would start at the beginning, planning out just how I would tell my husband when the wonderful, long awaited, positive pregnancy test came along. I would then look forward to all our conversations planning for the future, telling our families, picking out names, setting up a nursery... every detail until the moment we brought that beautiful baby home. And then I would daydream some more. About teaching Baby colors, shapes, words, and all the wonderful "firsts." I can't wait for all these experiences and for the incredible joy, honor and opportunity of raising a child and watching them grow.

The past couple months I have been more successful than I thought possible in shutting the daydreaming down. I thought that "getting my hopes up" every month lead me to be more devastated in the end. And it probably did. So I stopped hoping and I stopped daydreaming and I stopped planning. Of course we kept trying,  but I worked hard to convince myself that there was no real hope because a) I believed that, and b) it was too painful being continually let down.

But the past week or so the daydreaming has slowly crept back into my thinking, and I've let it. I think I'm finding that I far prefer the daydreams and hopes to the bitterness of having no hope. Sure, it may not be likely, and sure, I may be disappointed. But I love the idea of having kids, and I am thrilled and beyond excited about it. And one way or another, this IS going to happen. Maybe not how I think it should, and clearly not in my timing. But it will happen. If it never happens naturally, we've already decided that we will adopt some day. So I WILL be a parent some day. And I am going to look forward to that day with excitement. Sure, I might spend a few days of each month devastated. But I think I'll be happier overall than being just moderately miserable all the time.

I don't want to give up hope. I want to learn to trust God to guide my path. I want to rely on His promises that He loves me and He has a plan for me. It is hard, but I think allowing myself to daydream could actually be one small step toward living out that trust.

And daydreaming is fun! I can't wait to have a baby!

As Anne Shirley says, "I can't help flying up on the wings of anticipation. It's as glorious as soaring through a sunset... almost pays for the thud."

The One Year Mark

Infertility is defined as the inability to conceive after one year of trying. 

My husband and I hit that one year mark just over a month ago, and I still cannot say the word infertility out loud in reference to us.  Hitting that mark was mostly devastating, but there was also a small dose of comfort.  It felt devastating because I realized that we were almost certainly not going to "just get pregnant."  There is a reason the medical community defines infertility as trying for a year - it's because if it has been that long, something is wrong.  It's as simple as that.  In one frustrating day I moved from just trying to conceive to this horrible label of infertility.  I went from optimistically thinking that any month now I would be pregnant to knowing that unless we figure out what is going on and manage to get it treated, my odds of getting pregnant in any given month are very, very slim.

Hope versus The Odds

What is frustrating to me is that even with this knowledge that it almost certainly cannot happen until something changes, I still get hopeful that this will be it.  Every month I tell myself that this time I will truly hold my emotions at bay, and this time I will not expect anything and will therefore not deal with the sadness and disappointment.  After all, if I can just keep myself from hoping, I won't be so devastated, right?

Well, one problem with that plan is God.  God makes it impossible for me to lose hope.  After all, God is the one who creates all life and who gives the gift and blessing of children.  I know this, and I know that God loves me, so every month, even if I know that statistically speaking my chances are slim to none, I pray to God and ask him for a baby, and then when I do not get one, I am surprised.  Every time.  I know that God not giving me what I want should not be surprising, but I have such faith in God's goodness and love for me that I keep thinking that it will happen and God will answer my prayers.  I think that maybe he was just trying to teach me patience, and maybe I've learned enough for him.  Maybe he was just waiting for the perfect timing and maybe its here.  I cannot see into the thoughts of God, so I have no idea when he will answer my prayers.  But every month I manage to rationalize a reason why God is probably going to answer my prayers with that YES that I so long for.

While hope in God is usually a great thing, in this context I hate it.  I know that sounds terrible, but it is true.  I sometimes feel that it would be easier if I had no reason to hope, because then I would not get these hopes up and I could avoid such crushing, recurring disappointment.   But I do know God, and I do know he loves me, and so I do hope, even when I try to remain realistic.

So how do I handle this conundrum? How do I balance my hope and faith in God with the fact that it probably is not going to happen this month?  I have no idea, but each month is a fresh opportunity for me to try a new approach. 

Dealing with the Label

Along with hitting that lovely one-year-mark comes another issue.  As much as I run from it, that term infertility is probably not going anywhere.  We could still get pregnant this summer, but more likely we are going to struggle with testing, doctors appointments, expensive treatments, and so on for at least a little while if not much longer.  So I struggle with the fact that only two people in my life other than my husband have any idea that this is going on.  If this is going to be an issue for us, maybe we need support from our families.  Maybe they should know.  But for some reason it is hard for me to figure out how to tell them.  And I do not even know if I want to.

When we started TTC we were firmly in the camp of "This is very personal, and no one needs to know that we're trying until we're 12 weeks pregnant."  I think this would have been my attitude at any time in my life, but especially since I am pretty young to be TTC, I did not want to deal with questions or judgments about our life choices.  We did not start this journey without careful thought, months of waiting, and both feeling ready.  The fact that we are young is not relevant to us, because we are emotionally ready and financially able to take care of a child.  I knew that people would question our judgment, and I did not want to deal with that.

But now that a year has passed and this dumb infertility label has shown up, I have no idea how to approach the topic, and I still do not know if I want to approach it.  It seems horribly weird and awkward to bring it up, but it also seems weird to not have people know.  Any other medical issues that J or I have are shared with our families, so omitting this one feels almost deceitful.  But I think a part of me is still afraid that the judgment I feared initially might still be there.  And what I absolutely do not want to hear is how we are young and we have plenty of time.  Time will not fix this if nothing else is done.  Also, even though I know we have lots of time, I am still sad and struggling.  My life dream was to be a mom of a large family.  I wanted at least eight kids, and I wanted to have them while I was young and have lots of energy.  Even though I know that we will still have children one way or another, I feel this dream slipping away from me.  I find it very hard to believe that we will have that many children, and I am saddened at the potential loss of my dream family.



So these are two of the issues that passing the one-year-mark has brought to the surface for me.  I hate labels, and this one is my least favorite of all.  I am still in the process of figuring out how to deal with it.