Meltdown

It was the adult version of toddler behavior. It was not pretty. If there had been stomping of the feet, I would have called it a tantrum. Just in case I ever gave the impression that I have this IF thing under control, the following episode should burst that little bubble.

It started off like any other normal day. I was in a good mood. “Fertility” had begun the day before. (I put it in quotes because my body has yet to prove it’s fertile when my chart says it should be fertile.) ;) We were off to a good start for the cycle, TTC-wise. There were plans to continue the TTC efforts at bedtime.

But first, we were meeting up with some acquaintances in the evening. One of the attendees was pregnant. It’s very early in her pregnancy, and she hasn’t told everyone (my DH doesn’t know), but I know she has told a lot of people. She’s a sweet girl. She doesn’t know about our IF, but she’s never said anything remotely insensitive or even asked why we don’t have kids. She has never been anything except super nice to me. But seeing her now reminds me that there’s a thorn in my side. I see her about every week or so. (Up until now I've been pretty much isolated from encounters with pregnant women or women with babies on a regular basis, other than seeing them occasionally--and from a distance--at Mass or at the mall.) Now all I can think of when I see her is some variation of, “She’s pregnant. We’re IF. IF hurts.” I’m trying not to be envious, but usually there’s at least a healthy dose of jealousy when I see her. (Envy=sorrow at another’s good or wishing another didn’t have her good; jealousy=I wish I had that particular good. Big difference.)

Anyway, I didn’t talk with her much that night, but just sitting near her really started to stir up some ugly feelings. I could feel the tension and anger building up inside me. At the end of the evening DH and I walked back to the car. The minute we shut the car doors, I exploded.

Normally I have some sort of filter for my brain, but not then. I said every single negative thing I was thinking. Most of it amounted to "It's not fair that we have such a heavy cross (IF and DH's lack of job)." I tried to ignore the small voice of reason in my head that countered each and every negative thing I said. I know it's really not a good idea to compare crosses, but I did anyway. I named a few things that would be worse than IF and declared that everyone who didn't have to face those things had a much easier life than us and it wasn't fair. DH tried to tell me that we don't know what hidden crosses others face or what difficult suffering might lie in their future, but I wouldn't hear any of it. It's not like God (in His permissive will) makes sure everyone gets equal doses of suffering; it's quite obvious to me some people get more than their "fair share."

I was angry and half crying. It was all because I hate infertility, and it hurts so much. It really had nothing to do with the pregnant girl. She was (figuratively) in the wrong place at the wrong time. I guess anything could have set me off? I was surprised that I went from 0 to 60 on the anger scale so quickly given that I should be ovulating soon. This reaction would be more understandable and expected during PMS time, but near the beginning of the mucus cycle?

By the time we got home, I had run out of angry rant and just sobbed on DH's shoulder...half the tears were because IF is so painful and the other half were because I felt awful for my angry outburst...embarrassed, ashamed, disappointed in myself, etc. Needless to say, all this ruined any TTC attempts for the rest of the evening. DH is on his way to sainthood based on how he handled my meltdown. I know as his wife I'm supposed to be helping him get to heaven, but I'm not sure this type of behavior (on my part) is the ideal way to get him there... ;)

I hope this doesn’t turn into a PTSD-esque reaction. 1. See pregnant woman acquaintance. 2. Feel emotions begin to boil while in the same room. 3. Enter into a fit of rage after having the privacy of the car.

Of course things looked much brighter in the morning, and I couldn't figure out why I overreacted so much. I'm really looking forward to the infertility retreat this weekend that Rebecca is organizing. It really couldn't come at a better time. A fresh perspective on infertility, fellowship with others carrying the same cross, and some sacramental grace are just what I need.