Sometimes, that little voice in my head tells me that I don't deserve children. That I DESERVE infertility because I screwed up somewhere along the line. That my life, my actions, my thoughts are so terrible that I ruined my chances. That all my attempts to be positive, generous and kind and somehow trick the universe into undoing the infertility will fail. That my overwhelming mothering/nurturing instincts were given to me as a cruel, cruel joke.
But ultimately I do 'own' this - I don't deserve to be infertile. It is cruelly unfair - and breaks my heart, again and again.
I don't deserve this.
Hear me universe?
Hubby and I have given ourselves a year to tackle IVF. A year to grow, to get organised. To save. To plan. We are planning on attending the initial appointments (and have further testing) in the coming months - and then about a year from those appointments, we will (hopefully!) tackle the IVF itself.
The path ahead terrifies me. We are planning on just one treatment (or maybe 2 on the outside). We can't spend the rest of our lives throwing our money and time into something like this.
It saddens me to think that we could only end up with only one child or none. Neither options were in my "ideal" list.
It has struck me lately all the things I might miss out on if I don't have a biological child. I might never give birth. I might never get to breastfeed. I might never get to bring up a child in the way that I want - without having to double and triple check if a decision is ok with 2, 3, or even 4 other people.
Hope is a wonderous, maddening thing. Reality bites, and it is back to the beginning again. The rollercoaster is exhausting me, terrifying me, enlightening me.