I feel like I’m a big fan of the analogies lately.

One of the (many) things I dislike about this experience with infertility, besides the obvious, is the emotional ups and downs. Generally, I love roller coasters, especially the high ones with the steepest hills. Unfortunately though, as I’ve gotten a bit older, I can’t run from ride to ride without feeling a little vertigo or spin around too many times without feeling slightly nauseous. I love the rides but have less tolerance.

As the months tick by, I have less tolerance. And the rides are getting old.

I have meant every word of the last few posts about living life more fully, letting go and doing things for Bryan and I.  I’m still super (nerd) excited about installing the floors and washing 21 towels  (I don’t even own 21 towels but I’ll find some!)  in our new super big high efficiency washing machine. I can’t wait to see if the allergen cycle really does remove pet dander and for fun I’ll probably throw a decorative pillow in the dryer’s steam cycle. The last several weeks, I’ve been more relaxed than I have been in over a year, and for me that is a big deal. I plan to continue this trend. By this point I get that  the disappointment, like the hills of a rollercoaster, are just temporary. At the same time, though, its still  part of the ride.

Another blogger posted recently about wishing for an off button. Though it isn’t in the same context, I get it. Sometimes, I want a hope off button. Because when hope doesn’t pan out, it leads to depression, jealousy and brief moments of wanting to admit defeat. (And wine drinking – but that one’s not so bad) Sometimes, hope sneaks up on you in the form of disappointment, because you don’t even realize until you’re disappointed that you were hoping in the first place. Sometimes, hope is the hardest hill to climb, the part of the ride that leaves you dizzy. But it’s also what keeps you getting back on the ride.

While I know logically that each dip isn’t forever, I still dread them, wondering if it’s ever finally going to work. If month after month of this kind of collision with disappointment is really worth it. If I”ll ever get to do more than just watch everyone else get off the ride. If I’m going to be left alone on this one-washing 21 towels used by 2 people and 2 dogs. I just want to enjoy the next ride with (what feels like) everyone else. Is that really too much to ask?

Regardless of what I think or say now, though, you’ll see me again in a few days, standing in the same line to sit in the same seat, hoping this time I’ll be in the front of the line.

Because I’m crazy, I love rollercoasters, and hope is what helps me get back on.

Wave to me as I climb up the hill.

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