Yesterday, I attended a support group hosted by my RE's clinic.
I did not expect to get as tearful as I did during the session. I didn't even know what to expect on my way there. It was very carthatic and encouraging. Part of me felt guilty that this good feeling was from knowing that I am not alone. The thing is, no one wants to go through the infertility ups and downs.
I hate the self-pity and the obsession that never ends.
That excessive constant listening to your body. I hate this monster that has consumed my life.
I would rather enjoy life and have things come as God intended them to do.
But I am not sure that is an option for me.
Hubs seems to be deluded into thinking that the "elusive hope" will pop out of hiding as long as he maintains steady sperm presence in my deserty womb (TMI). He claims that even in the desert, you do find wells and rare vegetation. Of course I go along as I have nothing but hope... no matter how elusive.
I know my journey has not been s long as some people's, but that does not make it less distressing. It just makes it scarier because it is the unknown.
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