Post by annelillian on Aug 28, 2012 14:38:06 GMT -5
I have not been on these boards for years. They helped me tremendously in my first years of marriage with two miscarriages, a horrible job situation, and a shaky financial situation. MUCH has changed since then. I own a successful, award-winning business that is truly my passion. My marriage is on a solid foundation based on the friendship we formed in the hardest of days. My position makes me socially popular with a close knit group of trusted friends. I have so very much to be grateful for, but today I found myself sinking back to the pity party.
WARNING PITY PARTY AHEAD
I turn 35 in a week. That dreaded number the doctors all warn you about. We've been married for 7 1/2 years. We are happy. The ache of living in a subdivision near a school with 4 bedrooms and just the two of us has slowly been filled with job success, life, and laughter. Yet, there is a piece when I allow myself to go there that still is broken. I keep busy enough to avoid the pain and disappointment. Very rarely does the monster of "Why not me?" rear it's head.
Today ... I let myself hope. A couple weeks late for my period, I allowed myself to take a pregnancy test probably for the 100th time in our marriage. And here I am again in that dungeon of despair that ONLY the absence of that extra line can induce. I hardly even let myself test anymore because I try to avoid this feeling at all costs. But today, I hoped, I remembered the longing, and I gave in to the just maybe.
I am grateful to work from home. My asst is not in the office today so I'm curling up on the couch, taking an extended lunch, and pulling myself together before my husband gets home.
It amazes me after all this time how it can still hit me. We stopped trying and dropped all thoughts of parenthood about a year ago. The trying was killing us. We figured it was better to have US then to destroy our marriage trying. Adoption is not something my husband will consider. Buried within me is an intense hatred. We have us and for that I'm grateful. It took a year of not trying to get us entirely back.
But, every now and then I can dive quickly back to standing in the guest rooms that should have housed children. To wanting to SCREAM. I am the ONLY woman in my family to have ever had an issue conceiving. I am one of 5. My Aunts and cousins have all conceived easily. One cousin even got pregnant at almost 50 without even trying. I do not understand why I am the lone exception. Looking in on my life, we are perfect. Successful. Attractive. In Love.
There are secrets to this life no one knows like we spend holidays just the two of us because my husband grew tired and angry with the lack of acknowledgement and insensitivity from our families. He could not bare going through one more Christmas of "We're only doing family gifts and since you don't have one ... " or "If you had children, we would be there for you, but holidays are meant to be spent with children".
It is the unspoken Elephant in our living room. It is the silent haunting that makes my nights restless. It is the throbbing pain that when the scab is broken makes me want to say hateful things and the hurt makes me want to leave this man. Today, I will pull myself together before my husband gets home. I will bury this wound back to the depths of my mind. I'll have a good cry, then brush off the tears, and get back to work.
This lacking has changed me. It has made me in many ways a far kinder person. I look at those who are angry and can see their underlying pain. It has stolen my ideals, my dreams of the pitter patter of little feet, the sounds of giggles in the yard from the surrounding houses that haunt me. I will be ok, again. I will pull together and move on, but for a moment or two I will remember and allow the hurt to control me before I pull myself back up, take a deep breath, and continue on.
WARNING PITY PARTY AHEAD
I turn 35 in a week. That dreaded number the doctors all warn you about. We've been married for 7 1/2 years. We are happy. The ache of living in a subdivision near a school with 4 bedrooms and just the two of us has slowly been filled with job success, life, and laughter. Yet, there is a piece when I allow myself to go there that still is broken. I keep busy enough to avoid the pain and disappointment. Very rarely does the monster of "Why not me?" rear it's head.
Today ... I let myself hope. A couple weeks late for my period, I allowed myself to take a pregnancy test probably for the 100th time in our marriage. And here I am again in that dungeon of despair that ONLY the absence of that extra line can induce. I hardly even let myself test anymore because I try to avoid this feeling at all costs. But today, I hoped, I remembered the longing, and I gave in to the just maybe.
I am grateful to work from home. My asst is not in the office today so I'm curling up on the couch, taking an extended lunch, and pulling myself together before my husband gets home.
It amazes me after all this time how it can still hit me. We stopped trying and dropped all thoughts of parenthood about a year ago. The trying was killing us. We figured it was better to have US then to destroy our marriage trying. Adoption is not something my husband will consider. Buried within me is an intense hatred. We have us and for that I'm grateful. It took a year of not trying to get us entirely back.
But, every now and then I can dive quickly back to standing in the guest rooms that should have housed children. To wanting to SCREAM. I am the ONLY woman in my family to have ever had an issue conceiving. I am one of 5. My Aunts and cousins have all conceived easily. One cousin even got pregnant at almost 50 without even trying. I do not understand why I am the lone exception. Looking in on my life, we are perfect. Successful. Attractive. In Love.
There are secrets to this life no one knows like we spend holidays just the two of us because my husband grew tired and angry with the lack of acknowledgement and insensitivity from our families. He could not bare going through one more Christmas of "We're only doing family gifts and since you don't have one ... " or "If you had children, we would be there for you, but holidays are meant to be spent with children".
It is the unspoken Elephant in our living room. It is the silent haunting that makes my nights restless. It is the throbbing pain that when the scab is broken makes me want to say hateful things and the hurt makes me want to leave this man. Today, I will pull myself together before my husband gets home. I will bury this wound back to the depths of my mind. I'll have a good cry, then brush off the tears, and get back to work.
This lacking has changed me. It has made me in many ways a far kinder person. I look at those who are angry and can see their underlying pain. It has stolen my ideals, my dreams of the pitter patter of little feet, the sounds of giggles in the yard from the surrounding houses that haunt me. I will be ok, again. I will pull together and move on, but for a moment or two I will remember and allow the hurt to control me before I pull myself back up, take a deep breath, and continue on.
