Hurting, Passing Woman, Pregnancy, Volatile bodies

Crying Over Nothing

When we came back form the countryside last weekend, I felt somehow relieved. I mean staying in the cottage with all my family was relieving, because we didn’t even have to think about sex. Which is something to think about on itself, isn’t it? Not even being able to initiate sex shouldn’t come as a huge relief.

To the same end, Wonderboy told me today that he had a dream where my vagina was sealed somehow. In the dream we could never have vaginal sex ever again, only anal. He said the dream left him somehow unsure was there really something barring him from my pussy. Well, yeah. Our hopes and fears. It’s not easy to separate sexual desire from the overwhelming need to have a child. They are biologically intertwined, and so also emotionally very much so.

My period started right when we left the cottage, a week early. Kind of a relief, and kind of a let down. I thought I was handling things well. I didn’t really let myself be brought down by it. And then my older sister came to visit me and told me that they had stopped using any protection. I had just told my sister T, how I had a conversation with a friend, who has three children and who had a rough time with a serious illness her youngest had. I told my friend to try to appreciate, how lucky she was to have her children. I hadn’t told her before, but I told her then, that we had been trying in vain, and she was really graceful about it.

But when I mentioned this to my sister she was obliviously like Of course you told her about it. Of course you talk about it with everyone. It took my by surprise, because I started to cry even when I was trying to tell her about telling my friend. She still doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get how much it hurts. She keeps saying stuff like Well, some people just are more fertile, when I say that it hurts when other people get pregnant, even though I try to be happy for them. How can she not see, that that’s the last thing I want to hear? So, I am not fertile? Thank you for pointing that out. My body is useless, but hey, some people have able perfect bodies. Funny, huh?

I held myself together remarkably well until we were eating with Wonderboy. I tried to tell him about my sister T deciding to finally, well not actually start trying for a baby, but letting down the barriers so to speak. I could barely get the words out of my mouth. Tears streamed down my face and my voice just disappeared. I’m crying now, just writing about this. I hadn’t felt devastated in the situation. I still didn’t. But my body responded to the thought of my sister having a baby that way. It was just too much to bear.

The tears wouldn’t stop. I cried an hour or so, and it left me feeling fragile and week and exhausted. There’s nothing I can do. I can do nothing to get pregnant. And I can do nothing to shield myself from other people’s damaging ignorance. I’m going to visit my friend soon, one who I think has been trying to conceive too. I have to try to talk with her. Maybe she’ll have more grace and understanding.


3 thoughts on “Crying Over Nothing

  1. jnakabb says:

    Rogue, my dear. Your body is far from useless, just because what you want hasn’t happened in the couple of days this month that you could conceive. Nor is a baby-delivering mechanism proof of a perfect body.

    Statistically, a woman of childbearing age has AT BEST a 20% chance of conceiving any one month. This is discrete, so 5 months does not equal 100% chance – just like buying tickets in 5 different lotteries. Conversely, a number of people who have been declared unable to conceive (due to history or medical sterilisation) do so anyway.

    More long hugs to you.

  2. Thank you, Jnakabb. It would be easier, maybe, to just wait and see, if my little sister hadn’t gotten pregnant for the second time, while we are still trying. And now I’m afraid my older sister will do the same. I love my sister’s kid(s), I really do, and it just makes everything that much more exhausting, when I don’t get my own. I’ve wanted kids for years, and I have one break up behind me because of it. I just wasn’t prepared to wait after I’ve waited already for so long for the right time for Wonderboy. (And before that with my ex.)

  3. …And somehow I’m losing faith. Rather than believing in the possible treatments I (we) are going to get, I am very superstitiously losing faith on ever getting pregnant. Because it is such a small chance anyway. I’m left to ponder, what might be wrong with my body. Wonderboy probably feels the same, but maybe not as strongly as me.

    We even had a conversation about how neither of us are meant to reproduce, because both of us had to be asssisted to the world. My mom had blocked fallopian tubes that had to be opened, and his mom would’ve died of giving birth (and him also), because he was so big, if it wasn’t for the modern medicine.

    Maybe things will clear up next month, when we hopefully will start the treatments or the examinations and get the test results for Wonderboy. If they are okay, as all my hormone levels were, that could help with feeling so inadequate.

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