Just breathe

source

Just a little reminder to myself...

Stop

Breathe

Take it all in... 

It's going to be OK

Mental health and Infertility

I've talked a little bit about my experiences with anxiety here. I think I can blame it on my occasional type A personality and my everlasting curiosity to always be in the know. I want to know what's going to happen, I want to know about the future, I want to hold the answers to all the questions in my life. Unfortunately we all know how well that turns out. It is impossible to be on top of everything. With time (and some help from meds) I was able to let go little by little of my anxiety and everything seemed OK again. I was living my life as carefree as I could.

Enter infertility (imagine ominous music, horror movie style). With every passing month of me not being pregnant, red flags started to pop up everywhere. I tried to put it in the back of my mind but it was obvious that there were deeper problems that we had to address. We were going to have to put heart and soul (and our savings) into our baby making dreams. At first it was exciting, we were doing something, we were being proactive. When months kept passing by, one after another, without the much awaited results, my old friend anxiety was waiting in the shadows to come back. It started creeping slowly until it made a full blown appearance after my first miscarriage. Since then I've been struggling with it on and off. Sometimes I am completely fine. I can go weeks and even months without a hint of anxiety, but then... BOOM there it is. It is a never ending thing. I've come to accept it and deal with it, because what else can I do. I don't think I will ever get rid completely of it.

I've have often asked myself if it is possible to go trough this infertility/loss journey without loosing your mind, even just a little bit.

Since infertility is a topic that is hush hush in our society and even taboo in some cultures or circles, imagine adding to that a mental health component. They are both personal and intimate topics, so talking about it openly is difficult... for some even impossible. I am guilty of keeping it silent. I haven't shared my struggles with many people in real life, only close family and a couple of friends know. Even then, they don't know the full extent of my emotional struggles. I don't expect them to understand completely either. This is one of those things that, unless you've been there you can't really comprehend. How it toys with your mind, the emotional and physical impact that it has. The insecurity and loss of control that comes with it, amongst many other things.

By opening up I've been offered support and words of wisdom, but I've also received rude comments or simple minded solutions to my problems like the well known "relax" or the "if you adopt you will be able to get pregnant, it's just stress". I know it comes with the territory, you gotta have patience and be able to take deep breaths to keep the urge to smack people over their heads under control. Insensitive comments and the inability to connect with other women left me unsure of myself. I was scared of sharing too much and them thinking that I was going crazy... I was ashamed. 

It wasn't until I started reading other infertility blogs and learning about other peoples stories that I felt right at home. The more I read the more I felt like I wasn't alone. There were thousands of women going through the exact same thing at the exact same time as me and that was comforting to know.  That has helped a lot to keep my anxiety in check, to think positive and be more open with my feelings. I'm very grateful for it.

Knowing that there is so much support out there in this community has left me with a yearning in my heart. I want to be able to support others in their journeys as well. Where I live there are no support groups for infertility or miscarriages. The only option is going to a Psychologist or a Psychiatrist, which are great and necessary resources many times. They have helped me on countless occasions. Although having professional help is amazing, there is nothing compared to having someone who is walking through the same road as you, who can relate to the loss of control, to the ups and downs and everything in between. Whom have felt deep inside their souls the same type of heartbreak or joy. How many women are silenced by their fears or their shame? Where are all those women going for support? Are they even getting support? Are we passing each other by on the streets wrapped up in our own struggles? 

Since online support has been a big help for me, I've been playing with the idea of starting a local infertility support group. I don't know if people are even going to come, but I have to at least try. I don't have all the answers to all the questions, I don't have a magic solution, I only have my experiences and my desire to connect and be able to help each other... so I hope that is enough to guide me along this path.

*If someone has had experience with infertility support groups (good or bad) and want to share it, you are more than welcomed to do so in the comments.

Sans Apologies

Many times I find myself doubting my responses to others when it comes to the direction my life has taken in these past few months. I've found myself over explaining my feelings or over simplifying my thoughts. Why? Just to make others feel comfortable?

Ever since my last miscarriage, I have felt as if I was smack dab in the middle of a crossfire. Dramatic, I know. But really, I know that I am being judged by people who know what happened. Some people may wonder why have I changed or why I don't seem as upbeat anymore. I have been approached in more than one occasion with a barrage of questions or with dubious looks. How do you proceed to explain, really? Is it my responsibility to teach everyone I come in contact with about infertility or loss? No. It would be exhausting. Is it my purpose in life to talk my head off, bitching to others about the shit fest that we've been trough. Nope... that's why I have this blog : )

I have watched myself apologize for stupid things, in order to make myself look better... in order to not appear too sad... not so torn. The other day I caught myself talking on the phone with my mother in law in an overly chirpy tone (mind you, I have never in my life been described as chirpy). "She must not detect sadness or pain in my voice, so she doesn't start to speculate or worry"- I told myself mid talk. Ugh! Who am I fooling with this behavior? Only myself, obviously. I know better than to live my life trying to please others, but it is so difficult to not go in that direction. We are social beings, we want to be accepted, so we pretend many times, in order to fit in.

I was perusing a forum recently, where someone said that infertility was the hardest thing she had ever had to go through. That it had changed her to her core. It really struck a cord with me, because I felt just as she did. I wanted to reach over the computer and hug her, because I identified so much with her words. This experience really changes you. It has changed me for sure. It's not that I'm a ball of sadness 24/7 or that the only thing prevalent in my life is my infertility... or the fact that I've lost two pregnancies. But lets be real, when you go trough this kind of stuff, you are changed forever.

I am OK with not being the same person anymore. Experiences mold you. Granted, they don't define you, but they have the ability to reshape your character... to redirect goals... to change perspectives. There is no magic pill to erase what you've lived trough. It's better to embrace it. For better or for worse.

So I... just as I am, will have to be enough. And that's that.

Anxiety

It's a horrible feeling. You are drowning in your own thoughts. Your fears get the best of you. You start questioning yourself with every breath you take. At the same time your breath becomes shorter and more labored. Yep, you are experiencing a freaking panic attack. Throughout my life I have been acquainted with anxiety. Nothing serious but noticeable enough to keep it in check with the occasional meds. Unfortunately this infertility roller coaster has brought up the worst out of my once controlled anxiety.

Infertility seems to be so much about loss, no? Loss of control, loss of the opportunity to get pregnant each month the "natural way", the loss of experiencing the joy you see in expecting mothers. And in many cases pregnancy loss. Sometimes it's like you are in a constant mourning state.

After experiencing my last miscarriage those feelings of loss were heightened. It became more tangible. I was able to feel that smidge of joy I so many times envied. But it was all taken so forcefully from me. I remember waiting in the doctors office after the suspected ectopic pregnancy was confirmed- everything was so matter of fact. They explained to me the next step which was the dreaded methotrexate shot. Shock was an understatement. Was I doing this? Was I putting an end to this myself? Even tough I knew the pregnancy wasn't viable, in those moments all reason goes out the window. There were two lines in the HPT, I saw them. I had the cravings, the morning sickness- now they were telling me that it had to be terminated for my safety? I was living my worst nightmare. It seemed like a cruel joke.

I became a robot in the days waiting for it to be over. Just going trough the motions was enough to convince the people around me that everything was OK, when in reality I was falling apart inside. Once the bleeding had stopped it was as if the mental barrier I had put up to separate myself from what was happening came crashing down. A spiral of pity, sadness and panic awaited me. What if this was it? What if I wasn't meant to be a mom? What if.... what if? The uncertainty and pain clouded all my rational thoughts. The nights were particularly bad. There, without anything to occupy my mind with I was left alone with my racing thoughts. Even though I had all the support from A and my family, it wasn't enough. Nobody could feel my physical loss, the emptiness. I was alone.

It's been almost four months since then. Everyday is a struggle to keep the memories at bay. It's still hard to think about where I would have been if the pregnancy hadn't ended. My world would consist of buying baby stuff... planning for the birth. Occasionally I catch a glimpse of my body in the mirror and imagine how the growing belly would've looked like. It's still hard, but I can manage. The anxiety isn't so bad these days. I sought help, and slowly started picking up the pieces.

We women facing this treacherous road are strong... so strong. Maybe we don't realize it until it's happening, but the strength and will power it's always there. If it weren't for it we wouldn't be able to go trough it all, time and time again, hoping for our silver lining. May that strength hold us all up trough our journeys.