This past week has been tough.  And now I feel like a broken record.  I can’t remember when a week wasn’t tough over the past 17 months, but lately they just seem to get worse.  I am a type A very motivated person.  In every single aspect of my life.  Independent, Type A, outside the box thinker, quick problem solver and planner extraordinaire.  There has NEVER been a task in my life that I have set my mind to conquer that I wasn’t able to do so.

Because of this I have learned that when you fail, you try something different and work harder-and to simply not quit until you’ve achieved your goal.  Failing along the way only meant you didn’t research enough, you weren’t aggressive enough, you didn’t try hard enough-but most important that you weren’t able to stop.  I have been rewarded by this behavior through out my life, it has made me successful in any endeavor of my choosing.  I suspect, it is this wiring that is behind ever successful person in life.

Due to the success I have had with this work pattern, it is ingrained into the very fiber of my being.  I now view becoming a mom to a healthy baby as my ultimate goal and planning to achieve this goal is all I have done for the last 25 months of my life.   Now granted I have been doing so all while managing my normal life as well as my full-time career and my commute to and from work.   Because it’s not like you can quit your job, and devote all of your energy to a goal of this nature…because here it is ladies and gentlemen…here is my horrid fear…

 

That if I give this ultimate goal my full attention and give up everything else in my life, what if at the end it is not in the cards for me to reach my goal??

 

And then I can’t help but wonder, is that truly the bottom of the pit?   Is that as far down as I can possibly go?

And if so, can I recover from that depth?

I envision sitting down there in the bottom of that pit as a 40 something year old who has worked so hard for almost a decade to achieve an impossible goal and not only did I fail but I am a failure with nothing else left  in my life.

VOMITOUS.

I shudder to think.  But would be lying if I said this thought doesn’t consume me.  The thought that I am doing this half assed and that’s the reason I keep failing.  But with a self-preservation mechanism built in-I can’t let go of everything in my life “just in case” because I know that the answer to the question of recovering from a depth that low is not a “yes”.

I shudder to think about that too.

So now I am here to say I am fucking exhausted.  I can feel the rope in which I am hanging onto for dear life is giving way.  It is completely unfair, BUT BEYOND MY CONTROL, to be thrown into a war that no matter how hard I fight, research, sacrifice and plan-I can’t be victorious.  Victory can not be guaranteed no matter what.  I repeat, because this is seriously the hardest thing I have ever had to wrap my mind around…

THERE IS NOTHING I CAN DO (OR ANYONE ELSE ON MY BEHALF) THAT CAN GUARANTEE THAT I WILL EVER GET PREGNANT AND CARRY TO TERM A LIVE, HEALTHY, TAKE HOME BABY.

This is crushing me. I don’t have the tools for this battle.  But I also don’t have the ability to just let go and have faith that by doing nothing it will all work out in the end.

All along I have been focused on each cycle-my battle was only 28 days in length-and at the end I would win.  Crushing defeats take a toll on one’s soul after awhile though.  After a year long loss of battles, my epiphany is this-I’m going about this all wrong.

Since I can’t give up everything in my life to focus solely on becoming a mom, I need to prepare for a long drawn out war and anticipate that each cycle’s battle will be a loss.  That will be the tricky part-how does one prepare for endless defeats in a war that could span another 5 years?

That’s why I said it’s an epiphany of sorts.  It isn’t a complete epiphany exactly, otherwise I would be able to answer that question, so it’s more like a quasi epiphany.  Or an epiphany under construction?  I guess I’ll go back under my bed and think on this some more.

p.s.  I hate the nursing staff AND my doctor.  I want to punch them all on their ovaries.

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