Dear Parent Who Invites Me To Their Kids Games,
I’m not mad at you, let’s get that straight first off. I’m not. I’m not mad at your child(ren) and I’m not mad at anyone really. It’s not that I don’t care, or that your child(ren) aren’t important, they are, its something else entirely.
You see, as I battle (and yes it IS a war inside my head) infertility things in my life are skewed. I cant see much further than my grief and I’m swimming in regret, anguish, sadness, pain, and maybe even a little jealousy. The anger I hold inside isn’t towards you or anyone, its towards God for gifting me with a great love for children, and then telling me I am not to have any of my own. It is a difficult glob of sticky, nasty emotions that I can’t always pull apart and I don’t fully understand. But it changes how I see the world in the now. That will change, I’m told by others who went through this. Right now, I can’t seem to bring myself to see past my grief.
I want so much to go to your child(ren)’s game(s). But when I look at your family, when I see any family right now, I see what I have been denied. I see what God has said “no” to, and it hurts. It hurts in ways I can not fully express in mere words, and I’d never wish on anyone. When your kid kicks a ball down the sidelines I imagine what my kid would have looked like and how all of the things that go with it might have been. It hurts. (I’m choking back sobs as I write this)
When I hear your infant cry, and see you snuggle your toddler, I am reminded of my empty womb. When your children are running about with their friends and cousins, I can’t help but to be tortured by the knowledge that I will never house a ruckus like that because our bodies betrayed us.
If we had the money or the resources or the ability or a million other factors, we’d adopt, or do IVF or something. But not this. We wouldn’t grieve the death of a dream that we watch played out all around us. We wouldn’t cry ourselves to sleep after each doctors report or negative pregnancy test. And I wouldn’t rot from the inside out with envy every time I have to go into a toy store.
Please understand the pain I feel is not going to last forever. When we get the “final” say on the matter, as it were, from the doctors (aka only unaffordable IVF is an option) I will grieve, but then I will have closure. I will be able to move on. I am isolated not by my choice, but because of the intense pain that being around children makes me feel right now. We are doing all we can just to remain functional. We are doing all we can just to make it from one day to the next.
Eventually I’ll be okay again. I’ll be full of fun and life and be back to teaching your kids silly habits. I won’t cry every time I see a pregnant woman (like I am now as one passes my office window), I won’t avoid family time or events, and I won’t feel so anxious and stressed around children. At some point I will no longer be angry at God and I’ll move on.
I’m not mad at you. I’m just unable to deal with my emotions right now.