Tuesday, March 25, 2014


It's almost midnight and I can't get to sleep.

I tried, and failed.

I'm usually not an insomniac; I usually fall asleep peacefully and sleep soundly all night, so I'm always perturbed when I can just not my mind to stop racing long enough to drift off to dreamland.

At least I know why I can't sleep. I came home in angry, no, furious tears after a church event where I felt absolutely swarmed by all things pregnancy and baby. Three of the other ladies were very, very pregnant, and there were many jokes and half-complaints about baby-carrying. Many expressions of interest and concern for the expectant mamas.

An entire aspect of life - namely, pregnancy and childbearing - that not only do I not feel a part of, but I want to run away from as fast as I can while screaming at the top of my lungs.

At this point in my blog's life, I feel like I could recycle any number of posts:

I felt extremely jealous tonight. Just like last Lent (and many times between).

I felt angry at my childlessness and others' (unintended) insensitivity. Just like I wrote about here.  

I felt vulnerable and exposed as I was the only one (seemed to me anyway) not laughing at the pregnancy jokes or rummaging in my purse instead of engaging in pregnancy-related conversation.

I have to trust I'm moving forward with increased acceptance and peace, but sometimes it just feels like I'm in a sickening vortex where the same emotions and challenges keep getting dredged up again and again, except with even more intensity as the babies around me and my months of childlessness keep multiplying.

The worst of it is, no one seems to hear my heart-cries of pain. (Kind of what I wrote about here.) Of course that's not entirely true - my dh would remind me immediately of all the wonderful, caring, supportive friends who have rallied and prayed for us, of course including blog friends!

But sometimes it just feels so darn lonely. Like I just want to say, "Can we all not talk about pregnancy? Because it feels like daggers to my heart. Honest." (An impossible plan) Like I crave someone to just get it before I have to spell it out for them.

Frankly, I just really want the pregnant belly or the child in my arms. It is just so hard feeling like an outsider in woman-land, feeling like the wierdo who isn't able to conceive and birth a baby already! I know there's ultimately no answer to the pointless question "Why me?" but that doesn't mean I don't ask it sometimes.

I should really try to fall asleep. Last thought: I appreciated this post by "All You Who Hope" so very much. Not because it gave me hope that one day I may indeed look back on this time as a horrible bad dream - I'm not really in a hopeful mood tonight - but because of its acknowledgement that infertility is blazingly, mind-numbingly, soul-crushingly, depressingly hard.

Jesus, I trust in you. Jesus, help me.


  1. Yes, IF is hard....and it does rear it's ugly head at times when you least expect it. It is not good when it keeps you up at night too. I've had many sleepless nights or nights where I wake up in the middle of the night and there is no going back to sleep. I just try to pray and think about something more positive like lying on a beach somewhere warm (I live in N.IL...it's been too cold for too long). I've been living with IF for a long, long time...I don't know if there will ever be a day (for me) where I will look back.

  2. "I just want someone to get it before I have to spell it out for them"

    Oh my word - yes!!! Yes!!!! YES!!!!!

    I'm having a sleepless night myself, just struggling to make sense of all of this, wondering how it is that this many years in it still makes no more sense today than it did that first month. Not even a little.

    Offering up this sleepless night for you my friend! (((ecce fiat)))

  3. Ugh. I could literally feel my heart twisting as I imagined what the evening was like with all those pregnant bellies staring you in the face. And the jokes/half-complaints...why women feel it's appropriate to share these when gathered in public situations is beyond me. It sounds like your church/work environments are similar to ones we find ourselves in. Everyone is a "good Catholic" who has a honeymoon baby and so many other kids you can hardly keep track of who's who anymore. Yup, that's my constant reality and pretty much sole social group outside of single friends (thank God for them).

    Perhaps IF has made me more sensitive or emotionally aware...but for example if a single gal is in a group of several married women, I really try to stear the convo away from our hubbies. It's just kind to make group conversations relevant to all parties present, not just a hone in on one topic relating to a few. I could write an entire blog post on that alone!

    You will be in my prayers. I hope the Lord multiplies your sleep tonight and you sleep soundly and peacefully.

  4. So sorry, friend. Sleepless nights are never fun, especially when the thing causing you trouble sleeping is something so painful. I, too, find myself cycling through a lot of my old feelings from time to time, mostly after situations like the one you encountered last night. I really like what Amanda said... "It's kind to make group conversation relevant to everyone." Surely they could see that the room wasn't filled with pregnant women, right? I hope you got to sleep soon after posting this! Sending up prayers for you!

  5. I've had a few nights like this recently.. So much going on in my head, I just pray that I can quiet it all for a bit, so I can get some rest. Many prayers your way.

  6. Ugh, that sounds like a horrible evening!
    It still bothers me when I am in situations like that, and I've been frustrated a few times lately at people complaining about pregnancy. Hopefully that is a feeling I will always remember.

    I hope you got some sleep last night! Prayers for you.

  7. :( So sorry. Sending you prayers and (((hugs))).

  8. I feel like DM and I could recycle so many posts too! IF reminds me so much of waves on the ocean... One wave of grief, the it goes and anger comes in, then acceptance and then out of nowhere anger come back and ruins whatever progress made... I so wish all us IF couples lived closer to go out together on all the hard nights to just have fun... Being so separated makes this path harder to comfort one another through the tough days.

  9. Yes. You are so right. This is all soul-crushingly depressingly hard. I am so sorry you had to face that scene. I so get it. It is awful beyond words. "it just feels like I'm in a sickening vortex where the same emotions and challenges keep getting dredged up again and again, except with even more intensity as the babies around me and my months of childlessness keep multiplying." It feels like you stole my thoughts. Thank you for giving me some language for my own pain. Many hugs and prayers. You are not alone.

  10. I wonder if anyone who has not felt could understand how those lighthearted comments can hurt so much that they become physically painful? I'm sorry it was such a rough night, my friend. I hope yesterday was better!

  11. I agree, it's just sooooooooi tough. All you who hope's post came at the perfect time for me too. I think you are right to trust that you are growing through all of this, God works in our darkness. I wish so much that you didn't have to experience the pain of those mommy discussions, it seems like the status quo among friends these days.

  12. I am new to your blog, but just reading this post now...thanks for your honesty and vulnerability. Having just opened up my blog to other readers after 8+ months of blogging 'just for me,' it is still difficult to be honest with myself when writing, because to me, that makes it so much more REAL. If that makes sense. As you said, sometimes the pain and sheer loneliness of it all is truly unbearable. Like you, I've spent many nights awake, too sad to sleep. It is so very difficult for others to understand, and in one sense, this is good--the fewer people that need to walk this path, the better--but it also increases our loneliness, feeling like we are suffering in solitude. Well, as all of the comments above prove, and I'd like to add my voice in there as well, you are not alone! All women carrying the cross of infertility carry it together, even when it feels like a lonely journey. You will be in my thoughts and prayers!