I still cannot accept I'm infertile! Back in 2008 after I had my second and last remaining fallopian tube removed, I remember feeling totally panicked every morning I woke up. It was like losing a loved one and having to re-remember the horror of their absence every day.
Five years down the line, I STILL feel that way. OK, it has got easier. Time subdues those raw emotions. And not to mention the fact that we now have a beautiful little girl who has just lit up our life.
But I am still infertile. I sometimes feel very scared that I am never going to be able to accept it. Like most people, we do want more children - another sibling/siblings for our little girl. Am I being greedy or ungrateful for wanting this privilege?
Infertility "wreaks havoc upon your sense of identity as a woman and as a couple" (as written in my profile). Who am I as a woman if I can't jump into my bed with my man and 'make babies'?
Sex, sex, sex!! It's why we're all here. It's how we all continue to be here. It's what makes mankind live on & on in this vast universe. I know, I'm getting a bit existential here.....but it's true. And being infertile does make me think about these things. It makes me feel like a useless cog within the wheel of life. We have our baby only because others were able to 'do it' for me...for us!
I'm convinced the key to my accepting infertility and being able to live with it is to come forward and to talk to people about what it means to me. Rather than cowering in shame because I feel it should no longer matter to me, I need to tell the world, "No actually....it bloody does matter - and this is why...."
I have spent hours upon hours trawling the net looking for blogs and forums to make me feel connected to other women going through the same thing. God knows, in desperation to alleviate my sense of isolation, I have googled just about every permutation of the emotional aspects of infertility, particularly for women who are point blank infertile (no ifs or maybes) and who also may be suffering in silence as they mother their one and truly cherished miracle baby. It's a tough old job being an infertile mother and I know I am not alone.
This is my way of reaching out. I am determined that through honest and open communication with fertile and infertile people alike, I will beat this insidiously debilitating disease.