The waiting was hard. The uncertainty was maddening. Three years trickled by, peppered abundantly by nearly countless joyful pregnancy announcements from family, friends, and acquaintances. I patiently watched their bellies swell with tiny lives, and watched as those tiny lives grew into rambunctious toddlers with minds and personalities all their own. I constantly struggled against my own pervasive feelings of stagnancy, monotony, and envy; for this is the ugly reality of the human response to infertility. I knew in my head that I was genuinely happy for the super-fertiles surrounding me, and I was capable of expressing that happiness most of the time. But so often my heart just wanted to sink into the undercurrent of depression and hang out there for a while. Some days were fine; I could babysit, attend baby showers, and knit baby hats for dear friends... all with genuine joy in my heart. But other days, triggers sat on the surface of my sk...
Peace and mess in the absence of control