I was reading some different blogs from the infertility blogging community and came across this post from Katie at from if to when. This list sums up exactly how I’ve been feeling for the past 3 years. Don’t get me wrong, I’m overjoyed and happy for all those friends who are pregnant and/or have children already. However, I’m still sad and jealous that I can’t experience what so many others have had the chance to experience.
the pain an infertile woman feels when she wakes up in the morning to an empty uterus, empty arms, and an empty heart.
why we keep the doors to our spare bedrooms shut – because we can’t bear the thought that one of those rooms should be a nursery by now.
that we would die to experience her morning sickness or her swollen feet, just to know what it’s like to have a baby growing inside of us.
how badly we want to have sleepless nights with a colic-y baby, more so than we want to go out drinking with our girlfriends.
that we go grocery shopping early in the morning, just to avoid running into her pregnant belly or her adorable toddler.
that while she is jealous of our latest vacation, we envy her messy house, her unwashed hair, and her stained T-shirt.
how difficult it is to sit through a baby shower when all we can think about is, “Will I ever experience one of these?”
the tortured feeling of not being able to give our parents grandchildren or make our husbands fathers.
why we dread going to family functions, change the channel when we see holiday commercials, and avoid the baby aisle at Target like the plague.
what it feels like to be trapped in a room and be the only woman in that room who has not experienced motherhood.
what it feels like to be trapped in a world where the only thing that makes a “real woman” is the ability to birth a child.
the pain an infertile woman feels when she lays her head on her pillow at night, and all she can think about is her empty uterus, empty arms, and empty heart.