An explanation

I read a blog today that made me realize I may owe all of you an explanation for my current attitude. If you want to read the blog that inspired this post, go HERE.

Her latest post made me realize that my lack of enthusiasm for all things baby and pregnancy may be confusing to most people. I think the expected reaction from me was to see me jumping up and down, loving every single symptom, picking out nursery bedding and posting it here, and posting every single ultrasound picture ever taken. And I haven't done any of that. At least not all out in public.

To clear a few things up, I find ultrasound pictures ULTRA-boring. I find it beyond annoying when someone shows you a picture of their unborn child at around, say, 7 weeks, and says, "Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?!" Um......No. Sorry. I didn't even think MY child at 7 weeks was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I thought it looked like a blob, and that's when I finally figured out which blob I was supposed to be looking at. Ultrasound pictures aren't exactly clear-cut that early. Two weeks later, I thought it looked like a hamster, and I honestly don't want to see another ultrasound picture until it actually looks like a PERSON, because the hamster thing totally freaked me out. Now, if you choose to post pictures of your ultrasound or show them to people, more power to ya. I'm not judging others, just telling you how I feel. But you will probably never, ever see a picture of an ultrasound here on my blog, unless we decide to do the 3D one (which I'm undecided about). I will most definitely not be posting pictures of my child's gentiles, regardless of how blurry and indistinguishable they are to a layman, on the Interwebs. I think my child should be allowed to maintain some level of privacy, and I also don't want anyone referring to said gentiles as "cute." Because....ew......

I've also heard, "The heartbeat was the most beautiful sound in the world." Huh? Reassuring? Yes. Fantastic to know the Kiblet was there and healthy? Absolutely. Made me cry? A little. But beautiful? Eh. If it's beautiful to you, again, awesome, but that just wasn't the way I would describe it. That doesn't make me more or less excited than anyone else.

And just because it took me four years to get pregnant, doesn't make being pregnant any more fun. It also doesn't exclude me from complaining about it -- although I realize I complain more than the average person probably does, and for that I apologize. But if I hear, "Oh, but it's ALL worth it," from one more person, I might snap. Of course it's all worth it. But that doesn't make almost throwing up when I brush my teeth any more fun. Seriously.

Oh, and I have been looking at bedding, I just haven't found what I love, and we're actually going to end up having my cousin Joche make the crib skirt once we find out what we're having and find some fabric we like. I decided to avoid using a bumper altogether unless we have an issue with limbs getting stuck between crib rungs, and then we'll get a breathable bumper. I also don't need a quilt. So all I wanted was the skirt and sheets, and you can't pick apart sets and buy those things separately, which I find incredibly annoying. I refuse to spend $500 on a bedding set when I'm only going to use two things out of it.

We have purchased paint for the nursery (grey, and it's awesome), but haven't painted yet. Because we're a little bit lazy. We also ordered new windows for that room and are waiting for them to come in.

I have made registries already, so as not to forget the important things my sister and others were telling me they found most useful. That registry also has our crib on it. I've also been researching a bit about reusable diapers and car seats. And we have daycare all set up.

So I'm enthusiastic, I'm just not sharing every detail. I'm not gushing over socks and onesies and baby toes and blah, blah, blah.

Why?

Because after four years of infertility, it's hard for me to be too enthusiastic in public for fear that the bottom will fall out of all of this. Of course that's pessimistic. Of course I should just enjoy this time because I may only get to do it once. But that doesn't make it any easier to look past the leftover scars infertility has left on Brian and me.

Infertility steals something from those who go through it. You never get to feel a twinge or stretch or pinch without thinking, "Oh my God, here it comes. I knew this wouldn't last." When you're a member of the infertility community, you hear too many stories of stillbirths, early miscarriages, late miscarriages, children born with birth defects that can't be corrected no matter how good the neonatologist is and how hard they try, and even children who make it to four or five months and then die suddenly of SIDS. I've heard two stories of SIDS deaths in the last month, and we have friends who this happened to a few years ago.

There's the added bonus for us of knowing how quickly life can end. When Maidul died Brian and me, along with all of our friends, got a severe wake-up call about the fragility of life in general. Our strong, healthy, 27-year-old friend, who I'd never even seen with the sniffles the entire time I'd known him, died so suddenly in an accident that someone else may have walked away from. It's fucking scary.

All of this has left me paranoid (more than usual), scared, worried, TERRIFIED. And I don't know when those feelings will go away.

Of course I'm excited. Of course I've never been happier in my entire life. I can't wait to meet my baby, to hold him (we're totally convinced it's a boy), to finally figure out what his name is, to see him with my family and friends and know it's finally all over and we don't have to worry about never having children again.

But we will have to worry that our child will never have a sibling, because there's a good chance I'll never get pregnant again. We no longer have insurance coverage for infertility treatments, and the price of IVF is certainly out of range for us right now, and won't get any closer with an infant in the picture.

So, you see, for those of us who experience infertility, it never ends. It's never over. Infertility leaves gashes while you're going through it that can't be stitched, and massive scars when you've finally found your way through it that just never go away.

Infertility has also given me the gift of perspective and made me a different parent than I would have been had I never been through it. I've said it a million times that I both love and hate my infertility. The fact that I hated going through it doesn't negate the fact that I NEEDED to go through it.

So I just wanted to explain that to those who may think I'm being grumpy and unappreciative of what I've been given. I'm not, I swear. If anything, I'm the exact opposite, and knowing how close we came to never having what we have makes me appreciate things much, much more.