Unspoken Tolls

So today was hard, and I got angry. I sat in the bath and got really angry and cried. I was angry and resentful and mournful. And it was for a number of reasons.

I hate infertility. I hate this thing that seems to have so much control over my life and my emotions. I hate it, it makes me angry, and I resent it.

I resent that people I care about have to go through discomfort and pain for me. My husband - no matter how hard he tries to hide it - is killing himself with anxiety about blood work he has to do before we can move ahead with this procedure. He hasn't had blood work done since he was 16 years old, and it took 6 nurses to hold him down. He is pathologically afraid of needles, and he'll get this done for me (for us, for the chance for a child), but it's horrible for him. I know that although OWD is willing and knows what she is getting into, the egg retrieval process will not be a cake walk. It upsets me that a woman I love so much has to go through that for me. It would be so much easier if everything were being done to me.

So that's what is floating around on the surface.

But there's something else that has been going on for a long time that I haven't addressed in this blog. I haven't even spoken about it with Dr. G, now that I think about it. I've talked about it with one friend, and I couldn't even make it through the conversation without breaking down.

Infertility has changed the way I relate to some of my friends - particularly friends who became pregnant after I found out that I couldn't. I hate this. There are no words for how much I hate it. I miss these people, I love them, and it kills me that I can't talk to them the way I used to. It's my limitation, not theirs, and I am managing to somehow alienate people I love because of infertility and I hate it.

And what scares me is that more friends will eventually get pregnant. Does that mean I won't be able to relate to them? Am I going to gradually cease to be able to relate to most of my friends as they move on in their lives and start families? And what if this procedure works and I do get pregnant? Will I end up alienating the few friends I have who have chosen to be childless?

That's as much as I can say about this right now. But it's been there, for a long time, weighing on me. And I hate it.