Monday, July 1, 2013

Roller Coaster Ride.

Sorry I haven't written in awhile, life has been beyond crazy...and to be perfectly honest, I likely won't be writing again anytime soon.

Tonight, though, I needed to write. I can't sleep, and I can't quit the stinging in my eyes. I'm sure you all have whiplash from my infertility journey by this point, I sure do. I mean one day I'm mad at the world and I hate everything, and I'm angry with God, but still love Him, that will never change, and the next I'm fine, happy, and embracing this journey. It's a roller coaster ride. The good days are really good, and the bad days....well, when they cause my friends to tag team and make sure I always have a listening ear available, and someone willing to drive thirty minutes to have their shoulder cried on, I'm sure you can guess what they're like.

I don't know from one day to the next what's going to happen, or how I'm going to feel. It's so hard and so confusing. But, I think that's just part of this journey. I know one day I'll understand every climb, drop, twist, and turn...but right now I'm just hanging onto the safety bar with all I have, and hoping the ride I'm on makes sense soon.

It's the little things that turn my good days to bad ones. The weird things, the things that wouldn't affect a normal person that have me on my knees crying out to God, or clinging to my Bible with all my might. A pregnancy announcement. Someone asking me about how many kids we want. A baby in the store. A pregnant woman walking down the street. The list is never ending.

Some days I feel like I can't enjoy my life as fully as I should, no matter how hard I try to "just not think about it" no matter how well I'm doing, there is always something around the corner waiting to jump up and remind me...maybe I'm journeying through a haunted maze and not on a roller coaster after all...either way, it's scary, and unpredictable, and sometimes I don't like it I almost never like it.

Three stupid, little things set me off today. First, I was rocking a little one to sleep and in her half asleep/half awake state I looked down at her and smiled, and she smiled back, a big, lazy grin. I cried. It was so sweet, and so perfect, the look on that little angel's face when she smiled at me pierced right through my heart. It made me happy, and sad, and so full of longing. It's indescribable, that feeling of want. You want that so badly, to have those moments with your own children, you pray so fervently that they will arrive soon. It hurts so bad, it feels almost like you're being teased with the tiniest littlest snapshot of what could be. But at the same time, it's so perfect, you don't want to let it go, you just want to cherish that moment forever and never let it fade.

The next two fit together and are much more petty and silly. Pictures. My sister changed her Cover photo to this:

Almost like the one that I had: 

Except now I don't have one at all because I deleted it in a moment of self pity. You're probably looking at this and wondering what the big deal is. They might not even look that different to you, but to me they point out what I'm missing.

In the top one is four generations. I took that picture, and several more of my sister and her baby, my grandma and my sister and my niece, my mom, my sister, and my niece(Amelia) get the picture. It was Mother's Day. I was taking pictures of the mothers, and their relations to each other, and of course, my beautiful niece. My step dad came up and grabbed my camera and told me to go sit down, and smile. 

I don't really belong in these pictures. I look out place, and tacked on at the end. I feel it, too. As petty as it may be, these pictures bother me because I'm missing something. I don't have a four generation picture. I didn't get that picture of my grandmother, my mother, and myself...because I don't have an Amelia. 

I don't get near as many phone calls from my mom. My mom doesn't visit me near as often as she does my sister. I don't get the extra time, and the extra bond with my mom and grandma that she does. Instead, infertility has pulled us apart. Now I'm just the awkward fat chick at the end, tacked on so she doesn't get her feelings hurt, and ruin another day with her tears that just won't quit. 

This may all seem petty and selfish, but these pictures remind me of the giant hole in my heart. And of the relationships I'm missing out on. 

The third thing is another picture. A picture I will never, ever have:

Five generations. My great grandma passed away in February, and the most recent photo I have with her is from my wedding. It's the last picture I'll ever get with her. She'll never get to hold my baby. She will never sit and pose like this with me and my child. I was there that day too, off in the background somewhere. Where I always am. I know it's selfish, but it hurts. It tears me up to know I will never ever have this opportunity, it hurts a little more because I'm the oldest, I was married at the age of twenty. I should have this picture, and I don't. I never will.

It's those little things. Those little reminders that something big is missing that can throw your whole week off track. No matter how hard I try to stay at the top of the hill, I always plummet right back to the bottom...just to start the long climb again. 

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