Please head over to Tammy’s blog and go show some love! She could really use it right now. They’ve just had the crushing news that their GIFT has failed and there aren’t a lot of alternatives left for them. When I read Tammy’s SMS yesterday morning, I couldn’t help but get this revolting sinking feeling inside as my eyes started to burn from the tears. That horrible, familiar feeling, the one I’ve had so many times in the past, was there. In an instant, on hearing the news of a friends failed cycle, I was thrown back into my days of treatment.

How did I do it? How did I get through that? Survive it? Of all the truly shitty things that can happen to a person, of which there are many, infertility has to rank up there with some ofthe shittiest of the shitty!  That feeling of utter hopelessness and despair. Of wanting to give up. Of wanting to make the pain stop at any cost. It’s all too familiar for me, it’s still all too painful.

I got to thinking back on my years of treatment, on all the disappointments, all the despair and especially on the nature of this type of grief. It’s an odd type of grief and we infertiles seem to grieve our failed treatments in pretty much the same way. Or a lot of us do in any case.

I recall how I hated myself and my body so much after a failed cycle or miscarriage that I wanted to punish myself in some way and the only way I could do that would be to deny myself the one thing that kept me going….. hope. To crush my hope was the strongest form of self flagration. I would spit venom at how pathetic I was as a woman, my useless ovaries, useless uterus. What was the point? And I’d crush anyone in my path that tried to give me hope as well. Anyone that said it would work out one day, we could try again, we had frozen embryo’s…. after my IVF in March last year failed, after a 2 year break from treatment cos after my 3rd IVF failed I swore I’d never do it again, I wanted to give my frozen embryo’s up for adoption. I didn’t want them put back in me, my useless crappy uterus, my shitty body that was a not a baby grower/baby nurturer, my crappy body that was a baby killer. I wanted my frozen embryo’s to have a chance at life, I felt the only chance they’d have had if they were given to somebody else. On many occasions I wanted Walter to leave me, I wasn’t deserving of such a husband, he was deserving of a better wife.

But then time would pass, and despite my self flagration & best efforts, hope would start to spring a new again in me. Hope has got to be one of the strongest emotions, no matter how you try to crush it, someway, somehow, sometime it ALWAYS sneaks back into our hearts.

So, because I remember what it was like when I was walking the path, when a woman with a baby would try to offer words of encouragement, the bitter or rather perhaps broken infertile in me would think: “What a smug bitch” and I never want my friends to think that of me now, because the words I’m trying to use for encouragement are not meant to sound smug, I simply want to say this.

Sam, Tam – I am still believing for you both even when you can’t believe for yourself. Allow yourselves time to grieve without making any plans, just feel the emotion and in time, the answer will come to you. In time, you will know how to proceed don’t try to find the answer now.

I promise you this…. as empty as it may sound… the sun will shine again!