This post may be difficult to read if you are in the trenches, so please feel free to skip it if you aren't in the mood. I completely understand.
With that being said, I have thought about this post for quite a while, and have finally decided to go for it. This was never meant to be a blog that had one specific arc. I wanted an outlet for what I was dealing with, which was infertility at the time the blog began. But I enjoy writing about other things in my life. And this is still my blog space, after all. So here it is.
As many of you long-time followers know, Buster and I started trying to get pregnant before we were married. And this past June, we celebrated our four-year anniversary. So the road to pregnancy was long, arduous, and painstaking.
In the beginning, I didn't yet have the tunnel-vision that I developed later. Early on, we were able to live life without it being affected by infertility. We didn't even know we were infertile at that point. We just had lots of sex and hoped that we would get pregnant.
Once we realized that it might be taking us longer than the typical couple, we started the fertility testing. This was Fall of 2009 -- two + years since we started trying.
And soon we were fully immersed in our struggle with infertility. It's amazing how quickly you can go from
"Hmmm, maybe something is wrong."
"I'm so depressed. We'll never get pregnant. I'm such a failure."
Buster and I had two really, really tough years. As most of you know, infertility wreaks havoc on a marriage. And we were not immune. Those were really some very unhappy years for us.
I hate admitting it, but it's true. Infertility made me into someone I didn't want to be. Jealous. Bitter. Resentful. Unhappy.
I would not have wanted to be married to me.
But Buster stuck it out. Sure, he wasn't always the most patient. But I wasn't always the most sane.
And then, through the miracle of science, we became pregnant. I started to morph back into that person I knew was still in there. The happy version of me. Only to be struck down once again, when we suffered the miscarriage. Three and a half horrible months crawl by. We survive, but barely.
Science once again came to the rescue, and we were again pregnant. Only this time, my little boy was here to stay (yes, I know he's not here yet, but it's not too much longer!).
And it happened.
I became me again. I laugh now. I spontaneously smile. I am genuinely happy with my life as a whole.
Two years ago, I would never, ever have thought I could be me again. And be so happy with my life. But when you are in the dark hole of infertility, there is barely enough hope to sustain you one more day, let alone years.
My relationship with Buster has never, ever been better. And I feel that we deserve this, considering infertility stole so much happiness from us so early in our marriage.
You know when "they" say that having a baby won't solve your relationship issues? They definitely weren't talking about infertile couples.