I know you guys aren't priests, but, this is what's on my unexplained female infertility heart this morning.
I have a really, really difficult time mustering up excitement for pregnancy announcements. Sometimes an inordinately difficult time. And I am having a really, really difficult time with them this morning especially. (Before I come across as especially cold hearted and cruel, please know that I genuinely am eventually excited for all of these new babies. Very sincerely.)
Facebook has handed me an
But it is truly work for me to stay centered in the *absolute fact* that these pregnancy announcements have nothing to do with me and to stay grounded in the fact that my unfortunate lack of success in conceiving is absolutely unrelated to others' successes. And I spend quite a bit of time trying to rest in that. What's also true is that sometimes (not all the time) I spend 45 minutes weeping in the bathroom until I realize I'm engaging in the Fallacy of Fairness (it's a cognitive distortion I teach when I facilitate DBT groups.)
I won't go into detail about the specific announcement that brought this on this morning (this morning I am actually very glad that there are a few readers who would have seen the same pregnancy announcement that sent me over the edge - it is keeping me discreet and appropriate.) But oh. How I have thoughts. And how, how I am trying my best to give those thoughts over to Jesus. The mature, loving part of me knows, I have no place to judge and our journeys are our own. The immature, very sad part of me who really just wants to start my own family thinks, This is absolutely ridiculous. How on earth are they expecting and I am not? (This one is all types of complicated in all the ways and has to do with my experience in the church, my experiences with my Former Husband .... Actually, as I'm typing this out, it's becoming very apparent to me why this one is hitting me so hard.)
Fallacy of fairness, my friends. Fallacy of fairness.
A short update on where we are with family starting right now: (I'm not sure if I shared this before; time became a little crunched and confusing with the holidays, going to Europe and getting back to work afterwards.) We are currently working on our adoption application and, oh dear hearts, the questions. All the questions. They make sense; If I was setting up an adoption I would want to ask all of those questions as well. But let's be clear: I'm having to go into details about my former marriage I haven't thought about in years. And it's triggering. And I'm also having to give a detailed account as to why there's a separation from my biological father. Very triggering as well.
As we work on that, I consented to four rounds of Clomid. Just to see. That's really the subject of another post altogether, but suffice it to say Clomid is a tricky beast of a medication. And it is really tricky when I spend all day counseling children and families -- including foster kids who have been through the worst of the worst (I really have to recognize the fallacy of fairness during those sessions.)
So there's my confession. I'm not always a loving or a nice person. But I'm trying. Good sweet Jesus, how I'm trying.