Confession time. I’m grateful that I have a full time job but not for the usual reasons. Yes, it helps to cover our operating expenses, provides some personal satisfaction and ensures that I’ll have something to live on in my retirement years, but my job may — more importantly — be responsible for keeping my sanity (nearly) intact.
Seriously, the last few days AF has been my constant companion and with her comes an exaggerated version of the most annoying thought loops — thoughts I’d love to turn off permanently. A lobotomy, however, does seem a bit of an extreme solution. Instead I have the following echoing in my head:
My uterus is useless, totally and absolutely useless
How is it possible that obese woman over there could get pregnant and I couldn’t?
I’m never going to experience pregnancy? Really? No, that’s right you’re not…
This hole in my heart never seems to mend; will it always be such a chronic ache?
Phone calls, meetings and presentation development can and do occupy my thinking for the better part of the day, tabling those annoying thoughts, but only temporarily. Even when AF is no where to be found, they lurk.
When I’m alone with my thoughts they inevitably steer back to some variation on the infertility theme even when I’d like to be thinking about something else. Even my trashy reading has been hijacked. Have you noticed that People magazine has become “Celebrities and their Babies” magazine??
I caught myself driving back from a business lunch today wondering what on earth I would do if I didn’t have work to take my mind off of the nagging and ever present “how is it I wasn’t able to get pregnant” thoughts.
I even found myself going off on a mental riff this morning during my jog trying to imagine how women like me throughout history were able to go about their merry way in the world not feeling like they were walking around in a broken body. How did they cope?
Now that I’ve had some distance from the infertility treatments, that intensive, full-blown medical intervention stage of my life now seems like a bad dream — like it actually happened to someone else. Yeah. Weird isn’t it? I guess I’m left feeling a bit shell shocked by it all.
UPDATE: I just stumbled upon this interesting discussion on the NYT blog about psychotherapy.
P.S. I’d like to formally thank the very kind reviewer who pulled the Coming2Terms assignment in the Blog Roundup Extravaganza. I was very touched by what you wrote as well as by reading the moving posts that others highlighted across the infertility blogosphere.