I am falling apart, and need a way to express myself. I am not a writer by any means, but for some reason putting my thoughts down through this process has been cathartic. The thought of others reading every thought, every emotion that I feel during crazy life I lead is somewhat terrifying. Then I remember the times that I let my husband stick a 1.5 inch needle in my tush and somehow baring my soul to the world isn’t really that scary.
I am going to be intentionally omitting certain details from this blog in order to hide identifying details. Forgive me if at times you are confused, I cannot record my feelings so publicly if I even have an inkling that someone would be able to figure out who I am. I’m sure someone will if this continues for long enough, I will ask that if you do, please respect my privacy. If you suspect you know who I am, well I hope your wrong, because that most likely means that there is another woman like me who is suffering through unbelievable torment. There are more woman going through infertility than you can imagine and while some manage better than others, I find the loneliness to be one of the hardest parts. Every day you go out into the world and are expected to ignore this pain you feel in your heart. A pain so strong that you wish you could take something for the pain, but you can’t because that could ruin your chances of a healthy baby.
The title of this blog was chosen after a bit of thought. I wanted something that would make me smile, but at the same time expressed what I feel. Every time I give or my husband has given me an injection aka shot I have this whisper of hope that this will be the moment that makes a difference and soon we will have success.
I want to mention that I will not be editing my posts if I do I will end up changing things, I don’t use comma’s correctly, and often will use punctuation that only makes sense to me. I apologize to all of my English teachers, you did your job, I just have a tendency to ignore what you taught.