when in rome.

The subject has absolutely nothing to do with anything. It was the first thing that popped in my head and made me giggle, so I went with it.

I’ve been MIA because it’s been a HELLUVA year so far. I’ve been numb, I’ve been a zombie, I’ve had several trips to LA, I quit my job of nearly 8 years and I am currently…. resting. I’m resting. I’m taking care of my body, mind and spirit. I found some new ways of coping with infertility (including a new therapist who has been beyond anything I could ask for). I am also doing freelance design work, which I love. And for the first time in about three years I’m starting to feel steadily like myself again.

For the record that above paragraph was incredibly tough to write. Admitting to myself that all of these things actually happened and infertility got to me. I hate that. It makes it feel as though infertility has won. But… this is part of the journey. It’s real. It’s brutal. And I hope it helps someone else out there dealing with this same thing. My heart has been shattered, my body and mind have been exhausted and I have had to do what was best for my health. My life. And my family. In the end I refuse to let infertility win. It won the last few battles, without a doubt.

But believe you me, WE WILL win this mother-effing war. Infertility is messing with the wrong girl.

The thing is this. Infertility is brutal. And there are definitely several ‘levels’ to infertility. I’ve gotten to that unbelievable-as-high-as-you-can-get-is-this-really-happening-to-me, level. Some people handle it like champs, some cope… some stuff everything down so far and so deep for years and years on end that when things finally come to a head they kind of explode.

Coughahem; that last one is me.

I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.When I planned my life out I never thought I’d be HERE. However, my story will be used for good. We still have hope. And I still want to share all the things and what is going on. But if I spill now the story will be ruined.

You know what I do wish though? Is that people could know what this feels like. The weight, the grief, the mental and physical toll, the anguish… all of it… I wish for a day or even an hour others could be in these shoes. I don’t know why that would make me feel better, it just would. Maybe because while I try my best to deal with infertility well, at the end of the day I’m still human. I want others to understand. To get this pure SH!T that Edder and I are going through and have been going through for what feels like years and years on end (going on six to be exact). To know for a minute that others can see it all from our perspective. Have empathy and GET IT.

I guess somehow that would make it easier?

Maybe not.

The good side for us is that while no one can truly know the hell we have endured, our support system, the love, our family and friends keep us hanging on. And they are the very ones who will help us build our family. Here’s to our amazing Team Baby Robinson: YOU get a t-shirt and YOU get a t-shirt and YOU get a t-shirt, EVERYONE GETS A T-SHIRT! I’m feeling  very Oprah-ish today.

Also, because I’m still just a human ‘as infertile as they get’ girl… this year? Mothers day can SUCK A BIG ONE. Now, where’s my wine?

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2 thoughts on “when in rome.

  1. Oh man, sounds like things have been rough for you lately! Infertilty is a stupid biatch! But I have faith that you will beat the crap out of it sooner than later. 🙂 Sending you hugs!

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