Each time I sit down to add to this burgeoning blog, I over-analyze my chosen topic. I’ve done it since day one, and, as the posts pile up, I’m doing it even more. Right as I was beginning to get so deep into my head that I worried I might never come out long enough to post again, the ALI (adoption/loss/infertility) blogging community came to my rescue. Thank you, dear strangers, for the much-needed reinforcement and clarity you likely have no idea you gave me.
Looking at the small collection of posts I’ve completed, there isn’t much range in the concepts, emotions, and themes discussed. Anger. Jealousy. Frustration. Bitterness. They are, for the moment, the four corners of this blog. Each day as I put virtual pen to paper, I wondered what these cornerstones said of me, said of my journey, said of my worth as a blogger, said of my suitability to be even one of the many voices of infertility. I am infertility, but am I the infertility that should be out there for public consumption? No matter how hard I tried to self-affirm my point of view, I still felt like a whiny, self-indulgent, infertility stereotype.
Then, I found this Tuesday’s tandem posts from Cristy of Searching for our Silver Lining and Josey of My Cheap Version of Therapy. The posts discuss the stark differences between healing and finding resolution from infertility and developing infertility amnesia. I’ll leave you to peruse Cristy and Josey’s fuller discussions on your own; their thoughts are far more developed than mine. But, I will add that two very important observations jumped out at me from their posts that I find worthy of repetition and further elaboration.
First, Cristy writes,
The truth is, those who are unresolved (in the trenches, so to speak) are going to have a very hard time distinguishing between healing and infertility amnesia. I know I most certainly did. After all, you’re in survival mode and one rarely is at their most reasonable and rational when they are fighting for their family.
Perhaps this will come off as yet more uncritical self-affirmation, but this comment resonated with me. It went a long way toward granting me peace and helping me recognize that – as I sit here very much still in the trenches – my options are limited. Yes, my current self-reflection rests on a bedrock of negativity, but, no, that doesn’t mean it always will. I owe myself no expectation of rationality today as the battle rages, but do hope that time will bring greater clarity once the war is over. I can strive to achieve what Cristy calls, “a genuine effort to move beyond.”
Josey hit even more to the heart of what I’ve been feeling when she reflects on the act of blogging/journaling itself. She observes that,
[Posts of substance] are easier to come by when your life – your world – is full of turmoil and pain. At least for me, it has been easier to sit down and write deeply about the times that have made me cry in life than the times that have made me rejoice. I don’t know if it is because as children we are taught that gloating is bad and we shouldn’t rub it in, or if it’s simply because I often feel the need to work through my painful times with words and journaling but during the joyful times I tend to just revel in the moment. For whatever reason, I have to make a conscious effort to chronicle the good times as well as the bad, and slowly by surely, that is becoming easier.
It’s not lost on me that the moment I decided to go through with starting this blog was the moment we learned I’d be in for yet another drawn-out wait to try and conceive again. We’re in a total standstill, and that standstill brings greater pain to my life than my miscarriages, my diagnoses, and my infertility. When there are no daily injections, no trips to the doctor, no hard decisions, no second opinions, all that remains is the worry and the what if. Is it any wonder that my daily self-reflection in this time of inactivity rehashes the same themes again and again? With nothing new to add to the conversation, I just keep picking the same old scab. I hope I find it in me to also reflect on the good, but for now the bad is front and center and it seems disingenuous to pretend it’s not. Unless I want this blog to become a thing of fiction, I think it’s best to continue on in the current trajectory.
Yesterday over breakfast Mr. But IF and I realized that, should we ever get the all-clear to return to treatment, some hard decisions will have to be made about my blogging behavior. Do I continue on with these grand highfalutin substantive posts alone, or do I provide nitty-gritty play-by-plays of the current cycle? As hard as it might be to believe, when I started this blog I never considered that question. I was so in need of an immediate outlet, a one-click venue to vent my anger and frustration at another delay, that I never considered that one day the delays might end, the realities of our lives might change, and the purpose of this blog might evolve. For an aggressive over-planner like myself, this mental blind-spot is astounding.
Seeing as this blog was created in a moment of base raw emotions, why should I step back from those raw emotions solely because they might reveal a pregnancy or miscarriage in live time? I will blog our journey as I need to blog it, safe in the knowledge that these acts of sharing might likely be a long first step on the path to healing.