You would think the pain of each miscarriage would compound, but it’s almost gotten easier to cope. Every time it happens it’s a little less shocking. I feel almost numb to it now. When I found out 10 days ago that our FET was a chemical pregnancy I cried for an hour or two and I haven’t cried since then. I feel like I don’t have any tears left to cry. I’ve even started opening my mind, just a little, to the possibilities I refused to accept before, like using a gestational carrier, or living child-free.
It’s not that I want to go down those paths. I desperately hope that I don’t have to. It’s just that I realize now I realistically may not have a choice. I always believed having a child was a matter of when, not if. But it has finally sunk in that there are definitely no guarantees, and my odds of carrying and birthing my own child are not looking great.
In the meantime, I feel like I just can’t waste any more time mourning the loss of all my dreams. Not only has infertility robbed me of the family I wanted, but it’s robbed me of the enjoyment of my newlywed years. Too much time has been spent crying and refusing to pick myself up to do the things we should do together as a married couple. Don’t get me wrong, I do still need to avoid triggering places and people (Children in our family, places and events geared towards children, etc.) I think that’s necessary in order to maintain my mental health. But I do need to get back to doing the more carefree stuff we used to do together.
Today, for example, we went to the beach. It was a gorgeous hot day and the sun always makes me feel better. We picked up some food to grill for dinner and more flowers for our deck on the way home. My brothers will be joining us for dinner later. It’s been a lazy carefree summer day, and its this type of stuff I should be doing more of.