Reminders

I wonder how people in wheelchairs feel when they see someone walking. Or how someone who was widowed or divorced feels seeing a couple holding hands. Or how someone who is unemployed feels hearing a friend complain about their job. I'll bet that they feel at least a twinge of jealousy and sadness. Maybe sometimes more than a twinge. I feel that with all of the many, many reminders around me of my infertility. Here are a few: 

• pregnant women 
• babies
• kids
• moms
• babies, children or families on the covers of magazines or books at the store 
• babies, children or families on tv or in movies
• the baby food and diaper aisle at the grocery store
• that awful monthly reminder
• seeing the pregnancy tests on the shelf right next to the ovulation predictor kits at the store
• coming across my stash of unused pregnancy tests in my drawer
• being asked if I'm pregnant or could be pregnant at the dentist or the doctor
• baby clothes or toys at the store 
• my dog - sort of our "consolation prize" for not being able to have children; the next-best thing
• yet another Facebook post about being pregnant
• blogs with baby pictures 
• blog posts about the cute things someone's children say or do
• the strollers sitting in our garage 
• the neighbor kids playing outside 
• our savings account (much smaller right now thanks to the many fertility treatments and tests we've done)
• doing our taxes - "no dependents" 
• the stack of books on fertility sitting next to my bed 

It's impossible to escape all of these reminders! I doubt that I could live one day without encountering at least one of these reminders. Even when I try to focus on other things and forget about my infertility for awhile, it's impossible to avoid. This reminds me of something I read on  RESOLVE's website:

"Infertility is, indeed, a very painful struggle. The pain is similar to the grief over losing a loved one, but it is unique because it is a recurring grief. When a loved one dies, he isn't coming back. There is no hope that he will come back from the dead. You must work through the stages of grief, accept that you will never see this person again, and move on with your life.

"The grief of infertility is not so cut and dry. Infertile people grieve the loss of the baby that they may never know. They grieve the loss of that baby who would have had mommy's nose and daddy's eyes. But, each month, there is the hope that maybe that baby will be conceived after all. No matter how hard they try to prepare themselves for bad news, they still hope that this month will be different. Then, the bad news comes again, and the grief washes over the infertile couple anew. This process happens month after month, year after year. It is like having a deep cut that keeps getting opened right when it starts to heal."