I realized something about myself today. Something I don't like so much, something that infertility has created. I am secretly an Infertility Nazi. I don't like it when others around me have children, while I still wait for even the chance to conceive mine. I honestly thought I was past that, the jealousy, the envy, the little green monster on my shoulder. I was able to go out in public and see families without crying, although there always was that sense of wistfulness that would fill me...the question of "why not me?".
My beloved sister-in-law, whom I adore, emailed me today because she was having a dilemma. You see, she's due to give birth to my niece in 9 weeks. Her first name has been chosen for some time, but SIL was having problems in choosing her middle name. She had mentioned a couple of times that she loved the name Catherine, but she knew that if I'm ever fortunate enough to have a daughter of my own, that I want to name her Katherine, so she backed off the name, worried about my feelings. Instead, she choose to use her own middle name for the baby. Well, apparatly, she was still very much in love with using Catherine, and she asked several sources, including my husband ,whether or not she should go ahead and use it because unbeknownst to me, she has been in love with name since she was a girl. She so desperately wanted to use this name for her daughter, that she finally emailed me to let me know that she did not want to hurt me in any way, but could she please use the name?
I felt so ashamed. How could I have made her feel like this? Who am I to hog a name for Pete's sake!? Why do I expect those I love to stop procreating, just because I can't? Besides, the spellings would be different, and it wouldn't be my niece's first name. And I would call my daughter Katie or Kate for short anyway. I gave her my blessing (which she felt she needed) to use the name. And I'll admit, I did shed a couple of tears in doing so. But, just a couple.
I hate this feeling of despondency. The feeling that I'll never get to be a mother. I've been in a holding pattern for years and I feel so helpless. I'm genuinely happy for those of my IF friends who have gone on to become mothers. I'm even happy for those who are fertile myrtles. If you want to create a child, and are fortunate enough to do, I'm happy for you. But, I'm also jealous of you. I want to be the one who sees the two pink lines, have morning sickness, back pain, labor. I want to hold my child in my arms, feed her from my breasts, rock her to sleep, and soothe her hurts.
Why have I let my pain block me from experiencing all the joy there is in life? What have I become? Why does my empty uterus rule my every waking thought? The sad thing is, that even if I am fortunate enough to have a child, I'll never really be the old me. Infertility will always be a part of who I am, I will always carry these scars and memories. I will always be a little jaded, a little cautious, and a little jealous. I hate that. I wish I could magically wake up one day and not feel this way, but I can't. There's not a pill I can take, no therapy I can undergo, nothing that will completely heal me.
At what point do we stop grieving what never was or could be? Will I forever feel cheated? Will this hinder me from fully enjoying the experience of motherhood, should I ever have the opportunity? If you have the answers or experience, please, let me know. I'm so weary.