There's been something eating away at me lately. Although I want to be excited for all the ladies in my support groups getting preggo, but it's hard. A lot of them have been getting preggo without 'trying' - they took their focus off getting pregnant and it happened. But instead of being happy for them, it just depresses me even more. We don't get that opportunity. We will always be 'trying' to get pregnant, because we have to use a donor.
It sucks. It feels as though we are worse off than a lot of other couples going through infertility. In a way, we are. We are, without a doubt, 100% not able to have a child that is biologically related to Hubs. (Unless we use a family member as a donor - and that's just creepy to me. The thought of having to tell my child someday that Dad is really a brother or an uncle is a conversation I never want to have.) We don't have the options for him that I do. I can help improve my fertility with supplements, exercise and diet change. He can't. He might be able to get his issue surgically corrected, but that doesn't guarantee that he'll actually have functioning little soldiers. He could take supplements if he had a low count, but there is a big difference between low count and 0. We have 0. Zip. Nada. Nothing.
It's situations like this that further deepen my belief in the lack of God. How could something all-knowing, caring and loving put two people together, who so desperately want to be parents, only to throw multiple infertility problems our way? If God was out there, listening to the thoughts in my heart, He'd know that I've wanted to be a mom since I was 5. I have literally always wanted to be a mom. And Hubs, he really wants to be a dad. I know he's wanted kids for at least 4 years now. Please, if you disagree with me, good. You have your own opinions. But don't try to tell me that this is all in God's plan. Saddling us with something that causes debilitating and crippling depression is not His plan. Fuck that. It's not in his plan to make drug addicts ridiculously fertile. To watch thousands of children get placed in foster care, hoping for a family to love them.
And yes, someone is thinking 'Why don't you just adopt?'. My response - I would if I could. Adoption fees are outrageously high. Like down payment on a freakin' house high. We are excluded from international adoption because Hubs will always have to rely on a mobility aid. A diagnosis of bipolar disorder and depression also excludes us from qualifying. We are too young to adopt in the States. Granted, we only have a year and a half before we qualify age-wise, that's a lifetime to us. Finding a pregnant woman that wants to have an adoption plan is difficult when you have a small circle of friends/family. It's not like we have a church full of people to ask for help in spreading the word. In all honesty, I'm fairly certain that even if any of my family or friends knew of someone that wanted to give a baby up for adoption, they aren't going to pass along our information.
I know I shouldn't expect other people to care about our problems. I have friends I've known for years, who I've told on many occasions about our issues, that still don't remember the next time the child subject comes up. I can't tell you how much I hate the questions like 'Do you have kids?', 'When are you planning to have kids?', 'Do you want to have kids?' If I wouldn't get in trouble for it, I'd probably punch someone. Sometimes I feel the need to wear a shirt saying 'Warning: you will regret asking me about children.'
I wish these rants made me feel better. It feels good to get everything out in the open, but it doesn't make the thoughts or the pain go away. I don't feel one iota better now than I did when I started writing. but maybe, this may help just one person more sensitive around me. Maybe I wouldn't get text messages of sonograms announcing pregnancy (which really drive me crazy when the father has been home less than a month out of the entire year and still manages to get pregnant. If the friend I'm talking about reads this, I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you. I'm just really depressed that you are getting something I really want without even trying. That's why I don't ask about the pregnancy when we talk.) Maybe someone will stop and think before asking me about our future kids. Maybe my dad will stop telling me he's too young to have grandchildren. Maybe my mother-in-law would stop saying she doesn't care if we have kids or not because she 'already has grandchildren.'
Or maybe life won't change at all, and I'll just continue ranting when I feel I'm about to explode.