Dear Infertility,

When we first met I didn’t really know you existed. You were like a quiet follower, tip toe-ing around in soft slippers while I went about my life. You were there but I never saw you, didn’t really understand what you were or how you were about to turn my life upside down.

We met a bit more formally a little over a year later, when I found myself feeling slapped in the face by life and what felt like my own consistent misfortune, watching others’ so easily get what I was finally realizing I wanted so badly. You ceased tip toe-ing around me then,  and appeared suddenly in front of me with the same kind of shocking impact as someone who interrupts what is clearly a very personal and private conversation with their own agenda. You were rude and uninvited.

I hesitantly started a relationship with you with our first visit to the RE, and somehow, without my fully knowing it, you began to take over my life. I gave up  my control to you and watched myself become hurt, bitter, and sometimes jealous. I was moody and distant and began to lose what I liked most about myself. I got some of it back by starting my blog, but my focus turned to attempts to save every penny and control every aspect I could about my cycle and my life, as if you were going to really allow me that.

Maybe it was the two thwarted IVF plans, maybe it was the news of hubby’s latest sperm count, maybe it was something spiritual. Maybe it was some combination. Maybe it was none of that. But for whatever reason, I am ready to finally separate from you. Over the course of time, our relationship has become toxic.  I refuse to remain in a relationship that doesn’t allow me to grow. I’m tired of putting off projects, of surrendering my quality time, of putting life on hold.

An unplanned trial separation turned out better than I could have hoped for – with a fun weekend with my family and permission to myself to spend some of the money I couldn’t bear to part with. I went away and enjoyed myself. We spent money on a fence for the yard and I don’t regret it one bit. In fact, today hubby and I started looking at flooring (!!). I’ve learned from our time together and in the long run wouldn’t change it, however, I’m ready for it to be over.

It’s time we break up.

Today I’m moving on to a healthier relationship Trying to Conceive – with two functioning (albeit not perfectly) reproductive systems, I’m declaring next cycle as Cycle 1. You remember – the time when just starting was exciting, where you could simultaneously attempt to add to your family and enjoy life. Where it’s not a big deal if it doesn’t work right away, because there is always next month.

Worst case scenario – we meet again in Barbados in the fall/winter.

For now, and hopefully forever – goodbye and good riddance. Please let the door hit you on the butt on the way out.

No Love,

Me

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