Yesterday truly was a Wicked Wednesday, I, for one am very glad to have that day and my miserable, whiny assed, self pitying mood behind me. I’m wondering how my friend, Maritzais feeling? She had a negative result after her first IVF yesterday. I remember my first failed IVF, I thought the world was coming to an end, I even had to take time off work. Because of the PGD we knew we lost little boys, little boys I’d mistakenly named, little boys who’s pictures I couldn’t bring myself to part with for months afterwards. Little boys that I loved so much even though they were only little blobs of dividing cells, I thought my heart would break knowing I’d never get to meet them. The first of anything is always the scariest/most exciting/toughest/hardest to get through or recover from. So Maritza, the best assvice I can give you is to give yourself time. I know it sounds so cliché, but please don’t make the same mistake I did. I felt that the only way I could recover from my failed IVF was to try again as quickly as possible, in a way it was my way of having to avoid the pain of the loss, because lets face it, an IVF is a far bigger deal than timed cycles or IUI’s and a failed IVF is far tougher than a failed timed cycle or failed IUI. In fact thinking about you last night gave me some perspective and I realized how my self pity was totally unfounded in th face of what you are going through.

I also read my friend, Elize’s blog yesterday and she had a very interesting topic, one I’ve been thinking about for months now, but one that I’ve been to terrified to verbalize because I don’t know the answer to this question for myself and I’m afraid of the consequences, and the question is this: Do we really want children? There I said it! But am I brave enough to face it? I don’t know. But it’s a question that has been milling about in my mind for months now. In the About Me section of my blog I describe myself as determined, compassionate and sensitive. Those are some of my good qualities, there are some pretty ugly ones as well, determined for starters is according to my husband the greatest understatement in terms of words that describe me. I’m quite possibly the most strong willed person I know. I know what I want and when I want it and if I want something now, you better darn well give it to me right now or you’re going to pay dearly until you regret it soo badly that you will give it to me anyway. Ugly I know, I’m capable of throwing tantrums that most 2 years old would be envious of, I could teach them a thing or two about tantrum throwing. Another ugly characteristic is I’m EXTREMELY competitive, now I know in some context’s that’s actually a good quality, but not in others and perhaps my overly competitive nature is what has made my infertility so much tougher to deal with. Because everything is a race and the more of my friends that go and fall pregnant and have babies the more I feel like I’ve lost the race and in loosing that ugly monster jealousy raises its very ugly head. My competitiveness is also what I believe has led me to have an “unnatural response to anxiety” according to my FS and the therapist I saw and the Specialist Physician that I saw. I put HUGE pressure on myself to perform, to be the best, to do the best, to win at all costs and when I see that I’m not the best, being the best or loosing what I perceive to be a race I get extremely stressed by it and then the tantrums start. So now that I’ve painted this very attractive picture of myself, let me explain why I believe those qualities are relevant to the question of do I really want a child?

I’ve always wanted to be a mother, from the time I was a little girl, my dollie was my baby and when my mother took care of my little brother, I took care of my dollie, her name was Bonnie. As I grew up I dreamed of the day I would be a Mommy, when I got married the first time, my ex and I tried for a baby, but thankfully I never got pregnant. Three months before Walter and I tied the knot, I came off the pill and started preparing to TTC. We got pregnant on honeymoon, we were over joyed, but it was short lived. I had a miscarriage. From there we started trying immediatelyfor another baby, I wanted to get pregnant again so that I wouldn’t have to feel the pain of the loss and so began a truly vicious cycle of getting pregnant, having a miscarriage, running from the heartache and trying again and so it went. I became to obsessed with running away from the pain of the loss that somewhere along the line I think I’ve forgotten about why we started withthis in the first place. I don’t know if the reason I want to fall pregnant now is because I want to have a child, or I don’t want to deal with the pain of my miscarriages. I don’t know the answer to that anymore. It really scares me, if I don’t know the answer to that, then how do I know that I really want a child. Maybe one of the reasons I want a child so badly is to show everyone who went before me, look I finished the race, look I beat infertility, look I am worthy of being a mother and of raising a child. Perhaps the reason I push so hard and fall so hard into the depths of dispair every time I get my period is more because I feel I have failed and not gotten what I want and has less to do withactually having a baby.  Is my overwhelming desire more about my ugly personality traits than it is about maternal instinct and wanting a child? I know I started off with the right reasons for doing this, I’m just not sure I’m carrying on for the right reasons.

I spoke to Walter about this this morning, it really scares me to put this into words because I’m afraid of making the wrong decision and having to deal withthe consequences further on down the line. But what if I don’t really want a child? I mean sometimes I question if I’d actually be a good mother. For example, another wonderful personality trait I have is that I’m the most miserable person if I have not had a good 8 hours sleep, how will I cope witha little baby? I’m terrible with anything that I perceive as dirty or smelly. For example, this morning I got some mud stuck on the bottom of my Crocs while hanging washing on the line. From the second I noticed the mud stuck under my shoe I started gagging and dry heaving so loudly and uncontrollably that Walter almost choked from the way he was laughing at me, because I convinced myself that even though I had lifted the shoe to my nose and it had no smell, it must be poo. When I told Walter it was mud as it had not smell, he responded: “Ja its Dog Butt Mud” well that’s exactly where the gagging and heaving started. How will I change a pooynappy if non smelling dog butt mud makes me gag? Also, I LOVE our lifestyle, we can drink as much wine on a Saturday night at a dinner party with friends (childless friends I should add) and not worry about who’s going to get up for the baby. We go out whenever we feel like it, do whatever we like. I spend a fortune every month on manicures, pedicures, facials, highlights and hairdo’s, clothes, shoes, bags etc etc. Will I be happy when baby comes along and I can’t do any of those things? Oooh, and there’s another ugly personality trait, I’m clearly pretty selfish.

So as much as it scares me, I think I need to spend sometime thinking about do I really want a child?