It’s been almost 9 years since our struggle with infertility and recurrent pregnancy loss.
And I can tell you with absolute certainty, I’m still not over it. I don’t think I’ll ever be. I’m fundamentally changed, the very fiber of who I am is forever changed by that experience. I’ll never be who I was before I learned to live without hope and before I learned that worst-case scenarios and medical intervention and love and faith and God’s will and and and, are sometimes just not enough to overcome.
So why am I telling you this?
This morning, I went for a run, after I finished reading Colleen Hoover’s new book, All Your Perfects. Running is my quiet time, it’s when I do a lot of my thinking and this morning, I thought a lot about those 7 years and what we went through and the tears streamed down my face. I can’t lie, my eyes are leaking, even as I type this.
I thought about what infertility did to my marriage. It nearly ripped us apart. It’s ironic, that we only really realized the full extent of the utter destruction of our infertility after Ava was placed. She was a year old when my husband decided to move out. It was only then that I was shaken enough to rejoin the world and stop living in my bubble of absolute hopelessness.
Infertility and even more so on some levels, recurrent pregnancy loss, nearly destroyed me. It nearly destroyed my marriage, it almost took my life. And though it all, my husband stood by me, he hurt for me, he watched as I retreated further and further into myself. He felt helpless to help me. And the more we struggled, the more I resented his presence. The more I wished he’d leave me and find another woman who could give him what he deserved. I fought so hard and for so long and it exhausted me. But more than that, it nearly ended me. But still, he loved me.
It was during my 6th miscarriage that I attempted suicide for the first time. I was out of my mind with grief. The physical pain, resulting from the emotional devastation was just too much to bare and I tried to kill myself. My husband was there. He loved me through it. At the lowest moment of my life, when I was at my ugliest, he loved me and he gave me a reason to live.
The pain of the recurrent loss was unbearable. There are no words to adequately describe to you what we went through. How I felt. The utter chaos and destruction to wrecked on our marriage. I remember one night, we had just found out two of our best friends were pregnant. And I knew, I knew there was no way I could emotionally cope with not one but both of my best friends at the time being pregnant. Their husbands were my husbands best friends. After I told him the news, I was overcome with rage by the unfairness of it all, by the pain of it all. I went crazy, I am convinced today it was one of the first time that my mind snapped, my brain just switched off and I lost touch with reality. I started screaming like a woman possessed, just screaming and screaming and screaming my grief and my pain. When my voice was gone, I lay into the kitchen door. I punched and I punched and I punched that door till there were holes in it, till my fists bled and I was collapsed on the floor. All the while, my husband stood by me and watched silently. When I was a snotty, bloody heap collapsed on the floor, he took over. He vented his frustration and his pain and his anger on that door too. Pummeling it, pounding it, kicking it, headbutting it until it was nothing but a splintered mess, then with his bare hands, he ripped it off its hinges.
Our next door neighbor came pounding on our front door, convinced there was domestic violence happening, she demanded to see me and refused to leave. Clearly, all the noise of the door being beaten to death had sounded like domestic violence.
And through it all, he loved me.
He saw so much more than what I thought were my failures. He saw my perfects and he loved me in spite of the horrid person I’d morphed into.
So why am I sharing this?
Because Colleen Hoover’s new book takes a very REAL and very IN-DEPTH look at what happens to couples experiencing infertility in the most beautiful, gut-wrenching way.
If you’re struggling with infertility and it’s taking its toll on your marriage, read this book so you know you’re not alone, if you know a couple who are struggling with infertility, read this book so you can understand the utter devastation of what they’re going through.
About the book:
Quinn and Graham’s perfect love is threatened by their imperfect marriage. The memories, mistakes, and secrets that they have built up over the years are now tearing them apart. The one thing that could save them might also be the very thing that pushes their marriage beyond the point of repair.
All Your Perfects is a profound novel about a damaged couple whose potential future hinges on promises made in the past. This is a heartbreaking page-turner that asks: Can a resounding love with a perfect beginning survive a lifetime between two imperfect people?