I haven’t blogged in a long time. That’s unusual for me. I’ve been in this sort of mental conundrum and I’ve been trying very hard to give myself time and space to process this whole experience with secondary infertility. And the fact that it defeated me. And that my life will never be the same. And that I will never be the same. And that I have to find a way to start healing and get past just breathing because anything more is too hard.
Many things have happened in the course of my non-blogging. Including generosity that I cannot begin to fully or appropriately articulate. A dear friend, who has been one the people I have been closest to for my entire adult life, and her wife, offered to donate an embryo to us. Another friend, reiterated her offer to be a surrogate for us. Those people, those kindnesses, those are the things that take the emptiness of this experience and fill it up with love. I do not know if we will take up our friends on the embryo, but I do know that we will not use a surrogate. I don’t know if we will try again at all. Accepting the donated embryo is a door that I am not ready to close. I get peace from knowing that option is there, regardless of the mental process I am going through right now.
I have to tell myself that we will not try again. And I have to believe it because that’s the only way I can start to heal. I have certainly made some progress on the acceptance front, at least on a logical level. Emotionally, well, it’s still a long road. But if my mind isn’t constantly railing against this reality, then my emotions have no choice but to follow suit, albeit they will take their time.
I will get there. And the ability to state that, and even partially believe it, is progress. I have to believe that all of the meaning and purpose and relevance I have, my entire life, planned to come from having a big family – and my life centering around that family – will come from something else. And I have no idea what else could give me the sense of meaning, fulfillment, purpose and relevance I need – but I have to figure it out. And even getting to the point where I accept that I have to change, I have to figure out Plan B for my life – well, that’s progress. I’ve talked about it before, but never really accepted it.