Another thing to add in the file called "I never knew this would be hard"...by "landmarks" I mean those days or times of year when I think back to one year, two years ago, remember what I was doing, and am reminded that yes, I'm still childless. It's like an anti-anniversary, I guess. Instead of looking back and celebrating, I'm looking back and lamenting the time gone, under the bridge and lost forever.
A year ago, I attended a conference for work. An out-of-town friend who also attended told me she was pregnant. I still remember crying in my hotel room that night. (We had just reached the one-year mark of trying.) This past week, I attended the same conference. Still not pregnant. (It's CD2 today, by the way. Bummer.)
A year ago, I had my first appointment with my Creighton instructor. She reminded me of the fact at our latest meeting - oh, look! It's been exactly a year since we first met! - she said. All I could think of was - a whole year of trying and failing. A whole stinking year of learning and practicing Creighton, and I'm still not pregnant.
Two years ago, we got married. One month almost to the day after the royal wedding...you probably know where I'm going with this one! Today the royal baby was born. And I'm still not pregnant.
How to deal with these anti-landmarks, anti-anniversaries? They keep on comin'.
I need to not dwell on them as much as I do - I know that. But it's hard, because so many memories are deeply rooted in my brain - memories of our wedding, of other people's pregnancy announcements, of month after month of disappointment. It can be really hard to keep looking forward and not back.
The only way out I see is when those anti-anniversaries come, choose to love. Choose to do something for someone else instead of moping. Choose to make an act of faith in God's providence. Choose to accept the pain of waiting, the pain of lack, the pain of feeling stuck in childlessness while so many others move forward into mothering. I can't think of any other antidote, even though choosing to love is pretty darn hard when I'd rather grumble and whine and generally be cantankerous with the world.
The other thing is, if I'm honest with myself, it's not as if I'm exactly the same person as I was a year ago. That conference I attended - this year, I had some very blessed one-on-one time with a fellow IF sufferer - a friendship that never would have happened were it not for our shared sorrow. And I know there's been growth in my soul through all of this heartache, even if outwardly it seems like nothing has changed. So I'm not as "stuck" as I sometimes feel - the landmarks are just more hidden, maybe.
(Bad night of sleep - can't think of anything else to conclude. So, the end =))