I don't understand my train of thought on how I'm getting to anger.
It's looking more and more that DNA wise, my husband and I aren't meant to have kids together. That our chromosomes just don't line up together. Isn't that lovely? So Liam, our son, would truly be a medical miracle.
I look at him and I weep. I cry because he's perfect. Beautiful and brilliant. And then I cry harder because we may not be able to have more that is half Lou and half me. I have no doubt I would love children that are only a product of one of us, but it would still be a lot to process. Can we afford ART? Is donor sperm or eggs covered?
And then, because the cart is already ahead of the horse, how will they diagnose us? We're looking at driving two hours away for assistance, so we'll have to come up with gas money, hotel, food, and copayments. Why is this so hard?!
Can't I just throw a big ass pitty party for myself?! Shouldn't the FIRST doctor done a full work up? Shouldn't they of found something instead of saying 'you're fat' and helped us?! it's been FOUR YEARS of suffering! Four years of watching people have babies and be happy for them. Four years of begging and pleading with someone, anyone, to help us. Four years of wanting children. And we were blessed with our son. I should be happy, shouldn't I? I should be happy he has a loving family and that he's here, right!?
Maybe I should give up.
Maybe I should give up on people even kinda understanding what we're going through. I mean, is that fair for me to expect them to understand. For them to know I want to talk about it, I want to cry and feel loved and supported. That I NEED to talk about it?! I need to hear 'this shit is fucked up!'
But no, I'm stuck being quiet. . . .trying to not lash out at people because I'm starting to bottle this up. I'm starting to stop answering honestly. 'How are you?" "Oh, I'm fine." Which is a big fucking lie. I'm not fine. I'm angry. I'm upset. I'm pissed off. I'm lashing out at people I love and I should be thankful that they understand it, they have an empathetic ear . . .
I just feel really alone.
