I've been neglecting my blog lately. Yikes! This semester just started biting back and I've been stressed. However, despite having an exam to study for and a million things to do, I've got words flowing through my head and fingers right now, so I am writing.
The infertility community is... interesting. It can be life-giving to find your tribe, to realize you're not alone in your struggle. On the other hand, becoming involved in infertility groups or even just conversations about the journey can make you crazy. The questions. The comments. The need to justify your decisions. The feelings of comparison and jealousy and sometimes the one-upmanship. I feel the need to say something important and that is: You're allowed to be sad. Yes, you.
If you've "only" been trying six months, or one year, or five years. No matter how long you've been trying, you're allowed to be sad. It's hard.
If you haven't tried everything, and even if you're not sure whether treatment is for you, you're allowed to be sad. It doesn't mean you want it less or you're less deserving of a child.
If you don't want to pursue adoption, you're allowed to be sad. There is no law that infertile couples must adopt. It isn't for everyone, and just because you don't want to go that route doesn't mean you don't want a child enough.
If your spouse isn't on board for treatment, you're allowed to be sad. It's lonely to feel like you're not on the same page. Just because you won't strong-arm them doesn't mean you don't want it that badly.
If you have told everyone in your life about your infertility, you're allowed to feel alone (and sad). Having people know what's happening doesn't mean they truly know your struggle.
If it's a happy occasion for someone else, you're allowed to be sad. It doesn't mean you aren't excited for them. You can be happy and sad at the same time. It's called being real.
If you've already had children and are having trouble conceiving another, you're allowed to be sad. You don't feel like your family is complete, and that doesn't mean you don't appreciate your existing children.
The bottom line is, don't let anyone tell you that you aren't allowed to feel. This is your journey. These are your emotions. Infertility is lonely and hard and soul-destroying, and you're allowed to be sad about it. One day, when you're further along this rugged road, someone will come to you with tears in her eyes, and spill her story, and it will be your turn not to judge or to invalidate her story, but to simply say, "It's okay. It's okay to feel sad."