Originally posted January 14, 2008

I’m not really sure how to start this. As the title implies, this will be the sad tale of my struggles with infertility. And when I say struggles, I mean struggles. Not like something that’s a slight inconvience, or something that kinda cramps your style. I mean something that flat out kicks your ass. Something that makes you feel worse than anything else that you’ve ever experienced.


It’s a title that we just recently acquired. And I say we because any infertilty literature that you read will tell you that fertility is a combination of both partners fertility. Our combined fertilities have earned us the highly sought after title of “infertile.” The definition of infertility is having unprotected sex for 12 months without any pregnancies. We’ve been trying for 13 months, and are in the middle of our 14th cycle. 13 tries, 13 failures.

Since this blog is brand new, you don’t know who I am. Who I am is a control freak. I love to be in control, I love to know what’s going on, I love to do all that I can to make any situation turn out exactly how I plan it to.

Infertility has crushed who I am. I have no control over this. I have done everything possible to aid us in conceiving, all to no avail. Month after month of disappointments have made me realize that I will NEVER have control over this. For months I would look for ways to improve our chances each month. It started with charting, then taking vitamins and supplements. Acupuncture and massages. Special lubricants designed for baby making. For every great new thing I found to try, the thing that will make this month THE month, there was more heartache and disappointment. And realization that I cannot control this process.

More importantly, infertility has taken away my spirit. I find myself to be a shell of who I once was. I don’t look forward to seeing friends or doing social activities. I have no drive to do anything anymore. I just want to mope around the internet and read infertility blogs not unlike this one, in hopes of finding someone who can relate and understand what I’m going through.

But reading everyone else’s struggles doesn’t make it any better, nor any easier.

It’s as though I can’t seem to find what I’m looking for, which is probably hindered by the fact that I don’t even know what I’m looking for. I guess all I want is some peace. Some peace inside my head so that I’m not thinking about my fertility or infertility every minute of the day. I want to go back to the days when I was blissfully unaware of what infertility was. When I didn’t monitor my fertility signs every time I got to the bathroom. When I didn’t research for hours on end ways to boost our chances on any given months. When I didn’t have to obsess about every twinge in my body and wondering if maybe, just maybe, this was our month.

I just want to let it all go.